Pulled (26 page)

And Daniel. I couldn’t see his face; he was
looking down at her. But I could feel it; how he tenderly
held her, loved her, took care of her while he could. I could
also sense his pain, how his heart had broke as he held
her in his arms, and I realized how badly he needed me.

I couldn’t wait any longer.

July 2000

I paid little attention to what I packed as I stuffed
clothes into my small suitcase.
Where was it—that simple red dress Daniel always loved?
I would go to him in that.

Pulling it from the closet, I quickly changed into it and
slipped on my black flats.

My hands trembled with excitement. Rushing
out, I dragged the suitcase behind me. I made it down the
stairs faster than I ever had before, going straight for the
phone in the family room and calling a cab.

“Melanie?” I tensed up when I heard Mom
behind me, her voice strained. “What’s going on?”
Slowly I turned to her, bracing myself for what
was sure to be a fight. “I’m leaving.”

“What?”

“I’m going back to Colorado. I can’t stay here any
longer. I have to go back to Daniel.” I pushed past her,
looking out the window for the cab even though I knew it
wouldn’t be here for another ten minutes.

“No, Melanie. You can’t...you...you still have to
finish therapy,” she stammered, searching for a reason to
make me stay.

“I’ll do it there.” I turned back to the window,
peering out at the heat radiating from the asphalt.

“Melanie, please don’t do this. You need to stay
here a little longer. Please, for me. I’m begging you.” She
clutched my arm, trying to pull me to her. She seemed so

—desperate and scared?

“I’m eighteen now, and I’ll do what I want.” I
shrugged her off, unwilling to allow her to sway my
decision. Right then, I couldn’t care less what she thought.

It was obvious how badly she hated Daniel, and I refused
to listen to anything she said. Miraculously, the cab pulled
up, and I made for the door, dodging her as she tried to
block my path.

“Melanie, you don’t understand. Please, we need
to talk. Just wait!” she begged as I pushed past her. I
ignored her. Anything she had to say should have been
said months ago if it was so important.

I shoved my bag into the backseat and got in.

“Airport.”

The driver hesitated, unsure of what to do with
my mom trying to open the door and pleading with me to
get out of the cab.

“Just go!” I yelled at him. He looked back at me
before shrugging and driving away.

As he sped down the freeway, I couldn’t sit still as
I fidgeted in my seat. I really was going.

“I’m coming,” I whispered to Daniel’s spirit,
promising him I would soon be there.

The first leg of my flight to L.A. boarded, and
soon we were taxiing down the runway. When we landed, I
had to rush to my meet my connecting flight to Boulder.

When the plane landed, I was still soaring. I nearly
pushed through the aisle as everyone stood to exit.

I couldn’t remember one time in my life when I’d
felt this excited, this happy. I couldn’t wait to see Daniel’s
face when I surprised him. I could almost feel the way his
arms would wrap around me.

I hailed a cab and gave the driver the address.

As we got closer, I dug my keys out of my purse,
tapping them against my thigh, my foot bouncing. It was
nearing dusk when I stepped from the cab. I breathed in.

Home. My heart swelled with the few precious memories I
had of this place.

I stalled when I noticed the little, white, beat-up
car sitting on the street. I hoped he didn’t have company; I
wanted this homecoming to be just between the two of us. I
went up the two steps, dragging my suitcase behind me. I
slipped my key into the lock and swung the door open.

I was ready to run into his arms, but the room was
empty—and filthy. I was stunned. Daniel had always been
meticulously clean, but the house was trashed. A feeling
of unease swept through me as I stepped inside. I tried to
focus on the pull, relying on it to lead me to him.

Everything was silent except for the distant sound of the
shower running and the sound of pots rattling in the
kitchen. The smell of canned spaghetti sauce stung my
nose.

My attention was drawn down the hall—Daniel’s
soul called out for mine, and I started for him. I don’t know
why, but I hesitated, my curiosity winning out, and walked
toward the kitchen. My kitchen.

Walking through the archway, I froze when I saw
the blonde girl in a tight red tank top and very, very short
skirt, cooking. Her back was to me as she stood in front of
the stove. It took a second before I recognized her.

“Stephanie?” I whispered. I had a sinking feeling,
the high from just moments ago knocked out of me. What
the hell was she doing in my kitchen?

She whipped around, startled, her hand grasping
her chest as she caught her breath.

“Shit! You scared me!” Her face went from
stunned to irritated to determined in a second flat. “What
are you doing here, Melanie?” She had her hands on her
hips as she glared at me. Was she mad?

“Daniel.” It was the only word I could form, but it
also was the only one that mattered.

She turned and started stirring the pot, my pot;
the one Erin had picked out for me.

“Did you really think he’d just be sitting here
waiting for you, Melanie? After all this time?”
My head started to spin. Was she saying what I
thought she was saying? No, it wasn’t possible. I stared
blankly at the back of her head, waiting for her to explain.

She turned back toward me, her voice

patronizing, soft, and sarcastic as she tilted her head to
sneer at me. “He really was heartbroken. You should be
thanking me. I was here to pick up the pieces you left
behind. But it didn’t take long for him to realize what he
really needed. Somebody to take care of him, somebody
to give him what he’s always wanted, something you can’t.”
Her words cut to the core as she confirmed my
deepest fear. From somewhere deep within, from a place
where souls connect, a voice screamed that her words
were impossible. He needed me as much as I needed
him.

Not her.

I watched her standing there in my spot, and I
knew she could never replace me. She didn’t fit him the
way I did. I was made for him. My head began to shake of
its own accord. “No. You’re wrong. I don’t believe you.”
She let out a small, evil laugh, my body recoiling
from it. “Then why do you think I’m here, Melanie, in
your
kitchen, making dinner for
your
boyfriend?”
I stood there, dumbfounded, unable to find an
acceptable answer to her question. Was I wrong? Had
Daniel really moved on? I could still feel him. I didn’t
believe I would still feel the pull on my heart if he had
given up on that love. He had to love me. But what if it
wasn’t enough. What if he wanted more?

She must have sensed my confusion, the
questions running through my head, rejection starting to
seep in. “Haven’t you done enough? Hurt him enough?

Let him go, let him be happy.”

I reached out to grab the wall for support as
everything she said came crashing down upon me. The
thought of him with her was like a knife to my heart. Had
she been staying here? Visions of the two of them in our
bed flashed through my mind before I could stop them. It
nearly brought me to my knees. I braced myself on the
counter.

“Go!” Her voice pierced my ears, stinging,
burning, destroying. “Get out of my house.” She hovered
over me as she spat her final words at me. I scrambled to
escape, tripped over my feet, and fell to my knees in the
living room.

I choked on the sobs erupting from my throat as I
struggled to stand, my bad leg becoming uncooperative
as I tried to get away. I crawled across the floor, clawing at
the couch to pull myself up. It was almost impossible to
stand. The pain was too great; my broken heart too heavy.

But I had to escape. I couldn’t face him. I couldn’t hear him
tell me that I wasn’t enough. It would be too much.

I made it out to the porch, slamming the door
behind me. I curled in on myself, clutching my stomach. I
was still drawn inside, my feet glued to the peeling wood
beneath me. How could I just walk away from him forever?

The notion made me physically ill. I almost didn’t
make it to the railing before I vomited over it. I tried to
force myself down the steps. My fingers curled around the
handrail as I willed myself away from this place. The hair
stood up on the back of my neck. Daniel was so close. I
squeezed my eyes and tried to ignore his pull and deny
my need for him, but it was too powerful.

Slowly, I turned, catching sight of him through the
window. His sandy blond hair was dark from his shower,
slicked back as if he’d run a comb through it without a
second thought. His dark blue shirt clung to his toned
body, his jeans hung low on his waist.

The draw was just too much. I had to talk to him,
make him see he needed me. I reached for the door but
stopped short as I saw his face as he turned toward the
kitchen.

It was beautiful and perfect, and it broke my heart
because he was grinning as he gazed into the kitchen. He
was happy—with her. I choked on the bile that rose in my
throat once again.

All I’d ever wanted was for him to be happy. Of
course, I wanted to be the one to make him that way, but I
had to accept that I couldn’t anymore. He needed more.

He deserved more. I stood staring until he disappeared
from sight.

Leaving him was the hardest thing I’d ever done,
but I had to because I loved him. I’d give up everything to
make him happy. I would do anything to bring him joy.