Take It All Back
“Don’t tell me I’m overreacting. You’re nothing but a stupid redneck hick.” As the words escape, Melissa regrets them, but some awful force makes her continue. Meanness molds every word.
“Final words?” Dean asks, his hurt palpable.
“Final words,” she says. “And even that’s stupid. Final words. What the hell?”
He strides out the door. The click of the lock, echoes, brazenly loud in a house where the only other sound is the hard thumping of her adrenaline-stirred heart. He’ll re-enter, say he’d forgotten something, or wouldn’t say anything at all, just look at her with that hang-dog expression that melts her heart. But he doesn’t.
His truck engine roars to life. He’s really leaving, leaving her, leaving the house he built for her.
She shimmies her feet into her sneakers and rushes out to see his brake lights as he turns the corner. Running along the drive and out onto the road, she realizes he’ll have to stop at that extra-long light at Fordham.
He hasn’t made it to the light. He’s pulled to the shoulder and stares ahead before lifting his gaze to the rearview mirror.
She slows, tries to bury the panic. He eyes her warily. Her tears come as she flings open his door and smashes her face into his chest.
“I’m so sorry. I’m such a bitch. I didn’t mean any of it. Can I take it all back?” she asks.