Finding Melody

67: The Final Love Story

She was smiling, the brightest I had ever seen her smile. As she was surrounded with people who loved her. She was happy, to have freedom, to not feel trapped on a hospital floor.

It had been three weeks since we had arrived back, and Dallas and I had thrown her a party. A party for the masses, with her friends from the hospital visiting, even that small sweet boy who she wanted to watch a movie with. She was happy, and healthy and safe and she was responding amazingly to the medicine that she was on.

It was weird to say she was okay now, I think even Dallas had no idea what to do with himself. He was completely immersing himself in his new project ever since he's gotten back. Keeping it under the wraps for me I assume, but the mysteries behind him will unveil soon, I'm sure.

But I felt at peace, the kinks of our relationship fixed to the most we could try. He and I were like lightning every single day. The most amazing chemistry that lived beneath us.

Vi was the center of the party, she was getting excited to go back to school, to live a life of normalcy and to finally have her older brother off her back. But I doubt nothing would stop him from looking after her.

Pete was getting back on track, he took his meds regularly and he's spent so much time with both of them.

"Are you doing okay?". Natalie asked, as she fumbled through the kitchen. She hugged me softly as I leaned into her embrace.

"Yes, I'm just glad she's happy". I turned from the tinsel I had been gathering and stared out at the happy girl in the middle dancing her heart out as her brother held her hand guiding her to the music.

"And you are right?" Natalie asked, peering over to who I was looking at.

"I am very happy". I affirmed as she noticed the hint of a large smile on my face, it was far from a hint. It was outright big.

Everything had fallen into place, Dallas and I both returned to school and he's going to meetings now with his therapist, his advisors and sometimes even me. When he speaks at these meetings he holds my hand, like I give him some form of power, some form of hope. He's getting the help he needs, to deal with the stressors of life in a way that doesn't involve drinking.

It was good for him, the first week he went off to a form of rehab, shorter it was aimed to help him deal with his problems, cope with everyday things.

And when he came home, I was there waiting for him with a sign in my hand from the airport. And I was rewarded with a kiss as he lifted me off of the air. As he spun me around. And then he thanked me, thanked me with his heart spun towards me. He thanked me.

That day played over in my mind as I watched them dance.

And that box under my bed, that I hid, I finally showed it to him. The reminder of my abuse, the photos, the reports. His eyes teared as mine stared blankly. I had never shown it to anyone, no one even knew I had it. It had everything, everything from my journal entries, to the images, to his letter, to his suicide details.

I returned back to therapy, Dallas even went with me sometimes. Holding my hand and I felt what he felt when I went with him, I needed his support.

"I'm proud of you". She said, whispering so that I truly heard her words, her words of endearment. Something younger me had never heard, but here I was surrounded by it.

But I knew it was all because of her, her perseverance, her heart, her ideas, her mind. And especially her actions. She risked her life for me. She gave everything for me. She gave herself for me. For me to be free.

"Thank you for all you've done". I said, my voice brighter than ever as a year streaked down my cheek. She reached out and hugged me.

"Thank you for never stopping looking for me". I told her and she held my face in her hands, bracing as if on impact.