I stood, frozen with dread, as the moving truck rumbled up to the edge of the driveway, where Joel and I were standing. I was still gripping his arm, and I had no intention of letting go.
The driver opened the door and stepped down from the truck. He looked to me. "You Melody?"
Unsure what else to do, I nodded.
He consulted his clipboard. "Good news. We had a cancellation."
I swallowed. "A cancellation?"
"Yeah. You weren't scheduled 'til Monday." He gave his clipboard another quick glance. "But we had a note here that you wanted the first opening." He gave me a big, friendly smile. "Guess it's your lucky day."
If this weren't so tragic, it would be hilarious. Today wasn't lucky. It was one of the worst days of my life.
In fact, it wasn't even daytime. I gave the guy a perplexed look. "I think there's been a mistake."
"No mistake here," he said. "We got the call this morning."
"But not from me," I said.
The guy looked to the house and gave a low, impressed whistle. "Yeah, I'm sure you got a business manager, huh?" He smiled. "Must be nice. Anyway, the crew's a few miles back, should be here in five, ten minutes. We'll get the stuff out in a jiffy." He pointed to the garage. "Is that the place?"
"No," I blurted. "Definitely not. I’m trying to tell you, nobody's moving."
"I know," he said. "We're taking a load to storage, right?" His brow wrinkled. "You didn't change your mind or something?"
"No," I said. "I mean yes." I took a deep breath. "What I mean to say is–"
Next to me, Joel muttered, "Fuck this shit." He pulled his arm from mine and began walking to his car. Over his shoulder, he told the guy, "Load it up. Take it wherever. To the dump, for all I care."
Before I knew it, Joel was halfway to his car. Desperately, I scrambled after him. As I moved, I called out, "Joel, will you please stop?"
To my surprise, he actually did. Slowly, he turned around and waited, with arms crossed, until I caught up to him. But when I reached him, I didn't know what to say.
Stupidly, I said the only thing that came to mind. "I love you."
He looked at me like I'd lost my mind. "You think you're the first girl to say that?"
Funny, it was a question I hadn't even considered. I heard myself say, "I'm not?"
He made a scoffing sound. "Hell no."
"But I mean it," I said.
"Yeah?" he said. "Good thing you don't hate me, huh?"
"What do you mean?"
He looked away. "I mean, fuck, what do you do to the guys youdon'tlove?"
When he looked back, I swear, I looked straight into his soul and wanted to stagger back under the weight of his accusation.
In his eyes, I saw everything – the betrayal, the hurt, the fact thatI'ddone this to him.
But he had it all wrong. I had nothing to do with this current cluster. I bit my lip. Or, almost nothing. At least, not on purpose.
Damn it.
I gave him a pleading look. "Joel, please. It's not what you think it is."
