There’s a lengthy, deeply uncomfortable silence.

Melanie and I stare at each other. She’s quite obviously trying to figure out how long I’ve been standing here.

She slips her phone into the pocket of her cardigan, like she can hide the evidence, like her words aren’t hanging between us. Like my eyes might be so wide for some other reason.

She wipes away her tears, pressing her waterlogged lashes into the knit of her sleeves.

“Hey, Jamie!” she says, in a tone so full of false brightness that I almost wince. “I didn’t - didn’t see you, um…” The futility of this act is apparent to both of us, and Melanie stops, then tries again. “I’m sorry. I think I’m having a - postpartum hormones emotional disaster morning, so to speak.”

I know that this isn’t the truth, either, and unfortunately, I’m incapable of lying and pretending to buy it. I scramble around for a deflection, something I can say - but it takes too long, and Melanie drops her face into her hands.

“How much did you hear?” she asks, her voice thin enough to break.

I’ve been more or less immobile since I realized what I’d walked in on, but now my need to help overrides everything else. I rush up the stairs and stop before Melanie. When I open my arms, she sags into them, presses her face into my t-shirt, and lets out a sob.

I rest my chin on the top of her head, close my arms around her.

“Please don’t get the wrong idea.” Her voice is muffled against my chest, wobbly with renewed tears. “It’s - it’s not what you think.”

It is what I think, and again, we’re both painfully conscious of that fact, so I don’t answer.

For a few minutes, I just stand there and let Melanie cry into my t-shirt. By the time she draws back, her eyes are red-rimmed, she looks exhausted, and my shirt is spangled with teardrops.

“I’m sorry,” she sniffles, smoothing a hand over the fabric.

“It’s totally fine,” I answer, relieved to be able to say something truthful. “Don’t worry about that.”

Melanie nibbles her lip. “Do you have someplace you need to be right now?”

“No.”

“You - you want a cup of tea?”

~~~~

Melanie leads the way back downstairs. She’s nervous, and her hands are shaking, so I decide it’s probably better if I handle making the tea.

Melanie sits down on the couch and reaches for a box of tissues. They’re much more effective than my shirt, and by the time I join her with two mugs of chamomile, her eyes are dry, and the sniffles have stopped.

She stares at the coffee table in hollow silence, holding her tea like she’s already forgotten about it. Morning has come quietly while neither of us were paying attention, and pale winter sunlight cascades through the windows, falling over us.

Melanie sets down her tea and starts turning her engagement ring around her finger, the gold band with the red stone. I’ve never looked too closely at it, and I hold out my hand, curious. It takes Melanie a second to realize what I’m asking for, but she places her hand in mine, lets me have a look at the tiny stone set into the ring.

It’s a bright, beautiful little thing, pale rose in color. The shade changes with the light.

“A ruby,” I observe. “Passion, love, power.”

Melanie lets out a watery laugh. “Why are you so familiar with all the symbolism?”

I can’t exactly say that it’s because Aiden and I spent half the summer trying to use his mom’s gemstones to channel magical energy. I scan around for another reason that’s at least partially true, and land on:

“Working at a flower shop, you get familiar. Flowers have symbolism like that, too.”

Melanie draws her hand back, gazing down at the ring.

“I know it’s not traditional, but I’ve never been crazy about diamonds. And Raj knows that, of course, because - because he knows me so well.” She suddenly sounds perilously close to tears again. Without warning, she seizes my hand, looking into my eyes with wild urgency. “I love him, okay? I love Raj.”

“I know.” I give her fingers a gentle squeeze. “You really don’t have to - you don’t have to do that. I know.”

She turns away, letting go of my hand.

“How are you not judging me, right now? Even I’m judging me. You must be. You’re just keeping it to yourself.”

“Melanie.” I lean closer, and she shoots me a sidelong glance. “You know how great I am at lying, right? Like how I’m basically the gold medalist of lies?”

She lets out a thin laugh, shaking her head. “Yep, you’re a true talent.”

“Okay, so - listen. I’m not judging you.”

Melanie looks at me searchingly, then lets out a heavy breath. She pulls her legs up onto the couch and tucks them beneath herself, reaching for her tea.

I give her a long time to say something, but she doesn’t.

“Noah told me what happened last night,” I finally say.

“Right, and then you heard the phone call.” Melanie closes her eyes, looking defeated. “In a weird way, I’m almost glad that someone knows, now. I’ve been dying to talk to someone about this, but I felt like if I said it out loud, that would - would make it…”

“Real?” I suggest, and she nods, dropping her face into her hand.

“Yes. But that’s the problem, it’s been real the whole time. It sort of hit me in the face, last night. When Noah said that he - that he wanted to be with someone else.” Another tear escapes, and Melanie dashes it away on her sleeve. “I shouldn’t have reacted the way I did. That was so unfair of me. I’m literally engaged to someone else. And I can’t even count all the ways it was unfair to Raj, too, even if he doesn’t know it.”

“Mel…” I take a long pause, trying to figure out how to navigate this. “I think you’re coming down way too hard on yourself.”

“Am I? Because I don’t know what the fuck is wrong with me, Jamie. I'm so happy with Raj, honestly, I am, and I never felt like anything was missing, but then Noah came along, and now I feel like if he ever left, something would be missing. Even if he was just - with someone else, something would be missing.”

I know that I need to tread carefully, so I take another moment to consider my phrasing.

“Do you think....” I’m speaking slowly, hesitating over every word. “Do you think that maybe you’re approaching this from the wrong angle?”

Melanie’s eyes dart up to meet mine. “What do you mean?”

“I mean that instead of trying to ignore it or hide it, maybe you should talk to Raj about it?”

She stares at me, dumbstruck. “You can’t be fucking serious.”

“No, I can,” I answer, fidgeting with the sleeve of my flannel. “I mean - what’s the other solution? Just hope that it goes away?”

“Yes?”

“Yeah, that was my solution, when I first realized how I felt about Aiden. And you know what? It didn’t work. I thought it would go away if I waited it out, but... that just doesn’t happen when your inner voice is screaming for your attention.” I set my tea aside, and lean forward. “What’s your inner voice telling you? You’re trying so hard to crush it down, but have you actually listened to it, and thought about what you really want?”

Melanie bites her lip. “How do I do that?”

“I guess you… try to envision your ideal scenario. If you could have whatever you want, and nobody would get hurt, who would you pick? Raj, or Noah?”

Melanie’s eyes widen.

“Oh my fucking god, Jamie, how can you even ask me that? I could never - if it was my ideal scenario, I wouldn’t have to pick at all!”

I stare at her, a smile spreading slowly over my face. She stares back at me, clearly confused.

It takes her a good long minute to figure it out, and when she does, she lets out a scoffing laugh.

“What are you saying, that I should have myself both?”

I break into a giant grin, and smack her knee with the back of my hand.

“Girl, yes! Now you’re thinking! Have yourself both!”

“Jamie!” Melanie lets out a startled laugh, dissolving into giggles over her mug of tea. “Oh, man. Thank you, I needed that laugh.”

“Okay, except that I’m not joking.”

She stops laughing, her eyebrows shooting up. “Um. What? Yes, you are.”

“I’m really not, though.”

Melanie fixes me with an incredulous stare, then sits forward to put her mug down on the coffee table.

“You’re actually being serious?”

“Yeah, why not? They’re both crazy about you.”

“What?” Melanie blinks rapidly, her cheeks turning a faint shade of pink. “Did Noah say something to you?”

“No, but can’t you tell?”

Melanie’s gaze drops to the couch cushions, and she picks nervously at her sock.

“He… hasn’t said or done anything about it, if he does feel that way.”

I hesitate, trying to think of how to explain. I don’t want to expose Noah’s business, but Melanie needs some context.

“Has Noah told you what he went through, living with Ralph?”

“Sort of,” Melanie says. “A little. He doesn’t like to talk about it.”

I twist my own ring around my finger, choosing my words.

“What you have to understand is… when Noah manages to get his emotions out in the open, they go on a fucking odyssey to get there, because he’s gotta push through all the scars that Ralph left him. When someone takes advantage of it every time you let yourself be vulnerable, you teach yourself to keep your emotions pushed all the way down. That’s what Ralph did to Noah, but Noah is working really hard to get past it.”

Melanie stares at me, motionless. I give her time to answer, but she doesn’t, so I keep going.

“The other problem is, after living with Ralph, I think that Noah feels - well, disposable. That’s why he’s always looking for the exit. He’s trying to show himself out before someone can decide to drop him. It hurts less that way. But he must be fighting the compulsion to do that, this time, because he’s still here. He’s trusting you guys not to drop him. It’s a huge risk for him, and I think probably the worst thing he can imagine is fucking up and giving you two a reason to want him gone. So you can understand why he’d be terrified to say anything about this.”

I stop to take a breath, rubbing my arm. Melanie is silent, waiting for me to go on.

“The point is, no, he hasn’t said anything about it, but that’s not a good indicator. Believe me, Noah could have very strong feelings about all this, and not have said a word. Especially if he hasn’t figured out that you feel the same way about him. Which he definitely hasn’t, or he never would have asked you about Dahlia.”

Melanie makes a helpless sound, pressing her face into her hands.

“How can he not know, even after last night? The first thing I thought when I got upstairs was, there’s no way he’s not gonna realize, after that.”

Melanie is right. Noah treats love like he’s a stranger in a country that doesn’t belong to him. Like he doesn’t speak the language, and he can’t fathom why he’s so welcome there, why everyone is so happy to see him, why he feels so at home.

“Like I said, it’s hard for him to get to his feelings,” I say slowly, “Especially ones he’s maybe never had before. He told me he’s never had a relationship that was, I think he said - the real deal shit. Also, I told him once that I trust him, and like, his fucking mind was blown. I think the idea that two people could love him this much is, um. More or less unfathomable to him, to tell you the truth. He’s going to invent whatever other explanation he can think of, before he gets to the right one.”

Melanie slips into silent contemplation for a few minutes, then blinks hard and fast, as if snapping out of a daze.

“Even if he does feel the same way, it doesn’t matter,” she says, closing her eyes. “Why am I even-? I’m with Raj.”

“Okay, and now we’re back around to: have yourself both.”

“Jamie, please. Be serious.”

“I am, Mel.” I find myself speaking in a much firmer voice than I’m normally capable of. “It’s not impossible. I know you don’t see it that often in a tiny town like Ketterbridge, but that doesn’t change the fact. You’re the one who gets to decide what your family looks like. Nobody else.”

Melanie stares at me, her expression unreadable.

“I really, really think that you should talk to Raj about this,” I say, one more time.

She picks up her tea again, I think just to have something to do with her hands.

“If I do that,” she murmurs, “And Raj doesn’t respond the way - the way I hope he will, then I’ll have fucked up my relationship with my fiancé, and his relationship with his best friend, and my relationship with Noah. I could literally lose everything, and inflict the same thing on both of them. I can’t even think about the impact that would have on Nikita. Or on me.”

My heart twists in sympathy, and I offer Melanie my hand. She takes it, and we sit quietly for a moment.

“Jamie,” she says eventually. “I need time to think about this. I know that it’s difficult for you, but can you please promise me that you won’t say anything to anyone?”

I close my eyes, trying very hard not to let out a super long groan.

“Ugh, fine! You’re killing me, though. Know that.”

She snuggles up against my side, and gives me a hug. “Thank you.”

There’s another silence. Melanie shifts to look up at me.

“You really think there’s a chance that Raj would go for that?”

“You said it yourself,” I answer. “Raj has a lot of love to give.”

~~~~

Noah seems surprised to find me parked on Brookside, leaning against my car.

“What are you doing here?” he asks, stopping before me.

“Waiting for you. All done with the job? Installed the heavy up, whatever the hell that is?”

“Mhm.”

“Cool. I’ll give you a ride home.”

Noah doesn’t say anything as I pull away from the curb, but I can tell that he’s anxious to hear what happened.

“So, I talked to Melanie,” I tell him, flipping on my blinker. “Last night was a misunderstanding. She’s not mad at you, not at all. I don’t think that you should ask out Dahlia, though. I’ve got intel that she’s unavailable, at the moment.”

“Oh. Okay.” Noah finally breaks into a smile, breathing out a heavy exhale. “Okay.”

I expected Noah to be disappointed about Dahlia, but he seems more relieved to hear that Melanie isn’t angry with him.

I could stop there, but my heart is still aching from seeing him so upset earlier.

“Also, here’s a lil’ something: Melanie told Dahlia that you’re foxy.”

Noah twists to face me, his grey eyes wide and startled.

“What?” he laughs. “The fuck she did.”

“Dude, I’m telling you.”

“No, she fucking didn’t.”

“Oh, yes she did, I heard it.”

Noah’s giant grin lasts all the way back to the house, although it drops to a small, nervous smile when he sees Melanie waiting for him at the end of the driveway.

I leave them to it. In the rearview, I see them talking, and it looks like Melanie is apologizing. She gives Noah a hug, and he seems to sag with relief before he hugs her back.

They go up the driveway, side by side. Melanie gazes up at Noah, quickly glancing away when he turns his head to look back at her. They walk close together, though not close enough to touch.

But I’m smiling to myself as I take the turn at the end of the street, because I can see a near future where one of these three finally dares to close the distance. To reach across that gap and draw everyone together.

To love, and be loved, exactly the way they want to be.