Author's Note: This chapter is more PG-13 than PG, but you can't rate single chapters. If you aren't 13, then I don't recommend you read this. You have been warned.
"Lynn." Every trace of her ever being in my apartment was gone. Her threats that she was going to move out weren't just idle. She meant it. I noticed a white piece of paper on the table and picked it up.
Dear Conan,
You're probably asking yourself why all of my things are gone. Our relationship hasn't been like it was at the beginning lately. We've grown apart, and there's really no point trying to save something that is no longer there. I have always and I still do care for you. I just need more personal attention that you have the time to give me. Don't misunderstand this. It isn't your fault or my fault. We obviously aren't meant to be. It was fun for me while it lasted. I hope you feel the same.
Yours truly,
Lynn
I couldn't blame her. I understood what she meant about me not giving her much attention lately. Since it was sweeps time, I had been working a lot to get the ratings up. I had also been spending a lot of time by myself. I still loved her, though. I guess I just didn't tell her that enough. The pain was numbing. I wouldn't really be feeling it until tomorrow. I was really glad I had the next week off.
Hudson, my golden retriever, came running into the room and jumped up on my legs. I leaned down and scratched him behind his ears. He followed me to the couch. I plopped down and turned on the television. When I moved over for him to sit beside me, I realized that the box the morgue worker had given me for Melanie was still in my pocket. I pulled it out. It was a small fancy black box that looked appropriate for some sort of collectible or jewelry. I debated over whether to open it or not for a moment before I did. Even though it was her box, there might be something inside she doesn't want to see.
A beautiful golden ring with three stones in it and a folded piece of paper were within it. I unfolded the paper carefully, hoping this note was more pleasant than the last I had read.
The diamond represents my love for you: resistant to time and impossible to be broken
The starred sapphire represents you: a shining star in a sea of others who are afraid to shine
The black stone with white exposed on it represents me: worthless coal transforming into something much more precious, a diamond, because of you
The gold band surrouding the gems represents what we could become if you accept my proposal: a unified band, a circle of strength and love with no end and no beginning
Reading his planned proposal brought tears to my eyes. He really did love Melanie, and I could she felt the same. Giving this to her now would make it much more difficult to cope, but this is hers. I wanted desperately to call her and show her the ring. I wanted someone to share my pain with who knows right now what it is to have lost someone that they loved. I couldn't do this to her, though.
Hudson climbed up on my lap and licked my face sympathetically. Petting him was very soothing, as I watched the television blankly. Hours passed and soon I was watching my own show. My monologue had just began when I heard a light knock on the door. I pushed Hudson off of my lap and answered it. To my suprise, it was Melanie.
"Did I wake you?" She was still wearing the same dress that she had been when I saw her last. Her face was tearstreaked, and she was trembling.
"No, I was up. Are you all right?"
"They're asleep." She gestured at the door. "And I can't sleep."
"Would you like to keep me company?"
"Very much so. Thank you."
I ushered her in. "You can watch the show with me, if you want."
She nodded, and I headed over to the couch with her closely behind me. Hudson was asleep, and I moved him so I could sit down. He woke up and laid on my lap again. Melanie sat down on the edge of the couch, as far as she could be from me without sitting on the floor. As the show progressed through the first sketch, she had relaxed and moved closer.
"I look different on television," she commented as she watched herself walk out on stage. "I'm much prettier."
"You're pretty all of the time." I often complimented women like this, but this time I really meant it.
"Why thank you." She smiled weakly before returning to her depressed state. "I don't look as nervous as I felt."
"You were great. I haven't had a guest as funny as you are in a long time."
"Thank you again. You're always very funny." She yawned and kicked off her shoes as the show went into a commercial break. "Do you have a girlfriend?"
"Why do you ask?"
"Is that ring on the table for her? It's beautiful." She leaned forward and looked at the ring.
I mentally chastised myself for leaving it out when I went to answer the door. I took a deep breath. "That ring isn't mine. The morgue worker gave it to me and said that Vincent had it. It was for you. Read the note beside it, too. It explains the ring."
She picked up the note and began to read it. Her eyes filled with tears, and she was sobbing by the time she put it down. "Why does it have to hurt so much? Why did he have to die? It was so...unexpected. And it was my fault! If I hadn't insisted that he pick me up from the taping, then he wouldn't have died."
"It's not your fault, Melanie. You had nothing to do with his death. He loved you, and even if it was your fault, he would forgive you."
"And now I'm mad at him...I think I might even hate him for dying. Everything was so perfect before, and now everything is ruined. My life is ruined. He's the best agent in the world, and he was my best friend in the world. My writing career is ruined, and my relationships are ruined. I have no where to go because I can't go back to the apartment. My life is ruined." She was slumped over, her head hanging and in her hands as she cried.
"Everything will work out. Just give it all a little time. I'm hurting like you are, too. I understand."
"You are?" She lifted her head and looked up at me.
"My girlfriend just left me this evening. She used to live here." I couldn't figure out why I was telling her all of this. I needed release as much as she did, but telling her wasn't the answer.
"I'm sorry." She hugged me. "I'm really sorry. Don't let it get you down, though. If it was meant to be, then you will be together eventually. If not, then you will find someone very special soon."
She had gone from unable to express her own emotions and crying to a comforting friend. It was amazing that she could think coherently after this. I instinctively laid my head on her shoulder. She was smaller than me, and in a more painful emotional situation, but was the one providing me with comfort.
"Yes, it will all be fine. Don't even think about it right now. You didn't need her." She began to cough hoarsely, apparently trying to stop the fit.
"Would you like something to drink?" I reluctantly wiggled out of her embrace.
"Yes, please," she said.
"Do you like vodka?" I opened up my cabinet of liquor.
"I guess we'll see, won't we?"
"You haven't had vodka?"
"I haven't had anything alcoholic to drink before."
"You must have a lot of self-control." I thought back to my college years. She had just graduated and had nothing to drink. "Are you sure you want to drink?"
"Definitely. Let me try some." She hopped off the couch and stood next to me. "This bottle looks interesting."
"That's..." I opened the bottle and smelled its contents. "That's whiskey."
She took the bottle from me and downed half of its contents in a matter of ten or fifteen seconds. "That tastes...weird. But I like it." She finished off the bottle.
"That's really potent stuff. You probably shouldn't drink that much, especially if you haven't had any before."
"I want something different now." She grabbed another bottle and examined it.
"That's gin." I grabbed a pair of glasses from the cabinet.
"Can we have this, too?"
"Tequila." I sighed. She seemed to naturally be choosing the most potent drinks.
"Oh! We're on TV again!" She returned to the couch with the bottles. "It's the second part now."
I poured two glasses of gin and gave one to her. We watched television, and actually had a good time, even though we were both hurting a lot. Soon, we were very drunk, her especially. Tango music began playing on one of the sketches on Later.
"Let's dance! I want to tango!" She jumped off of the couch and stumbled a bit before regaining her balance.
"I have a CD somewhere with dance music on it."
"We can dance now with the TV music. Teach me how to tango."
I knew how to tango, so I began teaching her. She was a natural, even though she tripped over her own two feet a few times. After the music ended, we continued dancing. When I dipped her, what ensued was like a movie scene. Our lips met in a gentle kiss that grew more passionate as we rose. That kiss was followed by many more, and everything soon became a blur of fervent ardor.
"Lynn." Every trace of her ever being in my apartment was gone. Her threats that she was going to move out weren't just idle. She meant it. I noticed a white piece of paper on the table and picked it up.
Dear Conan,
You're probably asking yourself why all of my things are gone. Our relationship hasn't been like it was at the beginning lately. We've grown apart, and there's really no point trying to save something that is no longer there. I have always and I still do care for you. I just need more personal attention that you have the time to give me. Don't misunderstand this. It isn't your fault or my fault. We obviously aren't meant to be. It was fun for me while it lasted. I hope you feel the same.
Yours truly,
Lynn
I couldn't blame her. I understood what she meant about me not giving her much attention lately. Since it was sweeps time, I had been working a lot to get the ratings up. I had also been spending a lot of time by myself. I still loved her, though. I guess I just didn't tell her that enough. The pain was numbing. I wouldn't really be feeling it until tomorrow. I was really glad I had the next week off.
Hudson, my golden retriever, came running into the room and jumped up on my legs. I leaned down and scratched him behind his ears. He followed me to the couch. I plopped down and turned on the television. When I moved over for him to sit beside me, I realized that the box the morgue worker had given me for Melanie was still in my pocket. I pulled it out. It was a small fancy black box that looked appropriate for some sort of collectible or jewelry. I debated over whether to open it or not for a moment before I did. Even though it was her box, there might be something inside she doesn't want to see.
A beautiful golden ring with three stones in it and a folded piece of paper were within it. I unfolded the paper carefully, hoping this note was more pleasant than the last I had read.
The diamond represents my love for you: resistant to time and impossible to be broken
The starred sapphire represents you: a shining star in a sea of others who are afraid to shine
The black stone with white exposed on it represents me: worthless coal transforming into something much more precious, a diamond, because of you
The gold band surrouding the gems represents what we could become if you accept my proposal: a unified band, a circle of strength and love with no end and no beginning
Reading his planned proposal brought tears to my eyes. He really did love Melanie, and I could she felt the same. Giving this to her now would make it much more difficult to cope, but this is hers. I wanted desperately to call her and show her the ring. I wanted someone to share my pain with who knows right now what it is to have lost someone that they loved. I couldn't do this to her, though.
Hudson climbed up on my lap and licked my face sympathetically. Petting him was very soothing, as I watched the television blankly. Hours passed and soon I was watching my own show. My monologue had just began when I heard a light knock on the door. I pushed Hudson off of my lap and answered it. To my suprise, it was Melanie.
"Did I wake you?" She was still wearing the same dress that she had been when I saw her last. Her face was tearstreaked, and she was trembling.
"No, I was up. Are you all right?"
"They're asleep." She gestured at the door. "And I can't sleep."
"Would you like to keep me company?"
"Very much so. Thank you."
I ushered her in. "You can watch the show with me, if you want."
She nodded, and I headed over to the couch with her closely behind me. Hudson was asleep, and I moved him so I could sit down. He woke up and laid on my lap again. Melanie sat down on the edge of the couch, as far as she could be from me without sitting on the floor. As the show progressed through the first sketch, she had relaxed and moved closer.
"I look different on television," she commented as she watched herself walk out on stage. "I'm much prettier."
"You're pretty all of the time." I often complimented women like this, but this time I really meant it.
"Why thank you." She smiled weakly before returning to her depressed state. "I don't look as nervous as I felt."
"You were great. I haven't had a guest as funny as you are in a long time."
"Thank you again. You're always very funny." She yawned and kicked off her shoes as the show went into a commercial break. "Do you have a girlfriend?"
"Why do you ask?"
"Is that ring on the table for her? It's beautiful." She leaned forward and looked at the ring.
I mentally chastised myself for leaving it out when I went to answer the door. I took a deep breath. "That ring isn't mine. The morgue worker gave it to me and said that Vincent had it. It was for you. Read the note beside it, too. It explains the ring."
She picked up the note and began to read it. Her eyes filled with tears, and she was sobbing by the time she put it down. "Why does it have to hurt so much? Why did he have to die? It was so...unexpected. And it was my fault! If I hadn't insisted that he pick me up from the taping, then he wouldn't have died."
"It's not your fault, Melanie. You had nothing to do with his death. He loved you, and even if it was your fault, he would forgive you."
"And now I'm mad at him...I think I might even hate him for dying. Everything was so perfect before, and now everything is ruined. My life is ruined. He's the best agent in the world, and he was my best friend in the world. My writing career is ruined, and my relationships are ruined. I have no where to go because I can't go back to the apartment. My life is ruined." She was slumped over, her head hanging and in her hands as she cried.
"Everything will work out. Just give it all a little time. I'm hurting like you are, too. I understand."
"You are?" She lifted her head and looked up at me.
"My girlfriend just left me this evening. She used to live here." I couldn't figure out why I was telling her all of this. I needed release as much as she did, but telling her wasn't the answer.
"I'm sorry." She hugged me. "I'm really sorry. Don't let it get you down, though. If it was meant to be, then you will be together eventually. If not, then you will find someone very special soon."
She had gone from unable to express her own emotions and crying to a comforting friend. It was amazing that she could think coherently after this. I instinctively laid my head on her shoulder. She was smaller than me, and in a more painful emotional situation, but was the one providing me with comfort.
"Yes, it will all be fine. Don't even think about it right now. You didn't need her." She began to cough hoarsely, apparently trying to stop the fit.
"Would you like something to drink?" I reluctantly wiggled out of her embrace.
"Yes, please," she said.
"Do you like vodka?" I opened up my cabinet of liquor.
"I guess we'll see, won't we?"
"You haven't had vodka?"
"I haven't had anything alcoholic to drink before."
"You must have a lot of self-control." I thought back to my college years. She had just graduated and had nothing to drink. "Are you sure you want to drink?"
"Definitely. Let me try some." She hopped off the couch and stood next to me. "This bottle looks interesting."
"That's..." I opened the bottle and smelled its contents. "That's whiskey."
She took the bottle from me and downed half of its contents in a matter of ten or fifteen seconds. "That tastes...weird. But I like it." She finished off the bottle.
"That's really potent stuff. You probably shouldn't drink that much, especially if you haven't had any before."
"I want something different now." She grabbed another bottle and examined it.
"That's gin." I grabbed a pair of glasses from the cabinet.
"Can we have this, too?"
"Tequila." I sighed. She seemed to naturally be choosing the most potent drinks.
"Oh! We're on TV again!" She returned to the couch with the bottles. "It's the second part now."
I poured two glasses of gin and gave one to her. We watched television, and actually had a good time, even though we were both hurting a lot. Soon, we were very drunk, her especially. Tango music began playing on one of the sketches on Later.
"Let's dance! I want to tango!" She jumped off of the couch and stumbled a bit before regaining her balance.
"I have a CD somewhere with dance music on it."
"We can dance now with the TV music. Teach me how to tango."
I knew how to tango, so I began teaching her. She was a natural, even though she tripped over her own two feet a few times. After the music ended, we continued dancing. When I dipped her, what ensued was like a movie scene. Our lips met in a gentle kiss that grew more passionate as we rose. That kiss was followed by many more, and everything soon became a blur of fervent ardor.