Pulled(37)
Author: A.L. Jackson

I didn’t know what time Nicholas left for work, but I thought it would be safe if I waited until ten. It was only seven-thirty, and I was positive I would go insane for the next two and a half hours.

I picked up some coffee at the downstairs café and began walking as I all owed my thoughts to take over.

For the first time in nine years, my memories didn’t completely crush me. I was able to think of her and just love her. I loved every broken piece of her and was determined to make her whole again.

After forcing myself to wait I couple of hours, I made my way back to my complex, this time getting into my car and entering the address that I had looked up last night into the GPS. I knew this was risky, but I didn’t care. The directions popped up, and I shook my head as I read them on the screen. What kind of ass**le has a house in this kind of neighborhood and then makes his address public?

Exactly the kind of person Melanie had always run from—

one who wanted to be seen. I just couldn’t understand it.

Why did she want him? The thought of him made my stomach turn. And the thought of him touching her—I shook it off, refusing to think of it.

I slowed as I turned onto her street. It was very quiet. tall maple and ash trees lined the sidewalks, and manicured lawns framed the massive houses set back from the road.

Nearing the address, my heart fluttered in my chest. The closer I got, the more I could feel her. I passed by once. Turning around, I parked on the opposite side of the street but not close enough to be seen. At least I had a car that wouldn’t set off any red flags in this neighborhood.

“Melanie has to hate this house.” I shook my head, once again clueless as to what would lead her to this life. Did I hurt her so badly that she would do this to herself?

Yeah, from the outside, it looked like she had everything; the perfect husband, the perfect house, more money than anybody could ever spend. I knew first hand none of that mattered to her. And after seeing her last night, there was no question. Nothing about this lifestyle made her happy.

I studied the silver car parked out front, wondering whose it was. I glanced at the clock. It was just past ten. I settled into my seat. I was willing to wait forever to see her.

Even if she never came out, I was happy to just sit here and feel her. It was as if I could sense her as she moved around her house, pulses of energy slamming into me, each one Melanie.

Finally, more than an hour later, the door swung open, and Melanie and Katie stepped out, embracing each other. My heart ended up in my throat when she came into view.

I groaned; my fingers twitching toward the door handle. My girl—so close. I wanted to run to her, but I couldn’t. What if she rejected me? Yes, she almost kissed me last night, but what if she regretted it? What if she remembered what I’d done, how I’d ruined our lives? What if she told me to leave? I didn’t think my heart could take it, so I did the only thing I could—I admired her from afar. That would have to be enough for now.

I watched as she and Katie exchanged their goodbyes, and Katie jumped into the silver car and drove away.

Quietly, I called to Melanie when she turned her back to go inside, murmuring, “I love you, my beautiful girl.” I knew she heard, or rather, felt me. Her back stiffened, and she stopped. Her hand clutched the door as she caught her breath. I felt her love radiating back to me. I leaned into the wheel, clutching it to keep from going to her. Every part of me longed to hold her, to comfort her, to make her mine once again. I watched as she stepped inside and shut the door behind her. I released the breath I didn’t know I’d been holding as she disappeared from sight.

Now what? I knew I should leave and let her continue with her life, but I couldn’t bring myself to.

Shit. I was officially a stalker. But I’d take any title in order to be near her. So once again I waited and waited.

Hours later, a little before three, the garage opened, and a smal , black, four-door sedan backed out. It was newer, but didn’t even begin to look like it belonged in the garage that housed it.

I laughed. Only Melanie would be surrounded by all this wealth and drive a car like that. I took comfort in knowing she was the same girl I’d fal en in love with so many years ago. None of this had affected her. So why was she here? Because she loved him? No, I didn’t believe that, did I?

Shit. My mind was so messed up. I had no clue.

She pulled onto the street, leaving in the same direction I had come, and I fol owed. I was almost ashamed of what I was doing. I just couldn’t resist the pull. I prayed I wouldn’t scare her. I just needed to be near her.

I was nervous I’d lose her. Instead, it was easy. I anticipated her every move, my body naturally trailing hers.

We drove back downtown, the surroundings becoming increasingly familiar.

“Holy shit,” I muttered aloud. We were on the street in front of my office. She was doing the exact same thing I had done all day.

I pulled in several spaces in front of her. Through my rear-view mirror, I could see her trying to peer into my building.

She looked nervous. Her door opened, and her foot touched the ground before she hesitated, taking it back inside.

“What are you doing, baby?” I asked as I watched the panicked look on her face as her hands came up and obstructed my view, her head shaking. When she brought them down, I could see she was crying.

I couldn’t handle anymore; I had to go to her. My hand reached for the handle to get out, but faster than I could comprehend, she jumped her car back into traffic and sped away. I punched the steering wheel in frustration. How many times would I have to watch her run away from me? I sat in my car, not knowing what to do from here. It was obvious neither of us did.

I eased my car back onto the road, heading back to my apartment to get ready for dinner with my parents.

Tonight was going to be hard. I was going to break Mom’s heart again. I dreaded seeing the disappointment on her face.

And Dad, I didn’t even want to face him. I’d been so reckless. He had so much faith in me, inviting me into his practice right out of my residency, and I repaid him by doing something completely unethical.

At seven, I pulled up in front of their house, my movements weighed down with the dread I felt. The huge 1890s mansion was about forty minutes outside of Chicago. Mom had spent the last six months remodeling it; the result was beautiful and comfortable just like everything else she touched.

As I stepped from my car, Erin squealed from the doorway, ran down the steps, and threw herself in my arms.

“Hi, big brother.” She squeezed me, and I held her to me.