Nightingale (Sequel to Solider Boy)

Twenty-Eight

"Mind your step," she warned Derrick as she kicked aside her work sneakers from the doorway. Melody had gone off to Wakanda in a hurry after Sharon had called and as a result, had not been able to tidy up her apartment before leaving. So, as a result, the space was more untidy than normal. Her glass coffee table still was strewn with last month's medical journals and in the kitchen, Melody could just glimpse a few mugs resting in the sink. "Sorry about the mess," she apologized.

"This is a mess?" Derrick asked, staring at the space. 

Melody shrugged off her coat. "By my usual standards it is."

"You have low standards for messy," he shrugged off his coat as well and reached out with one hand to take hers. Melody handed it off without comment and he hung them up on the wall. "You want some coffee? I know it's a bit late, but..." Derrick grinned at her and Melody smiled back, even with how tired she was. Coffee sounded like a very good idea. 

He took her smile as confirmation and began rummaging around in the kitchen while Melody sat down on the couch, her eyes wandering over the familiar space. Her degrees framed on the wall, the bookshelf underneath it containing thick, heavy medical books. The Hippocratic Oath, written in calligraphy, the frame barely visible in the hallway which led back to her bathroom and the master bed room. Nothing about the place had changed, but it didn't bring much comfort to Melody anymore. She wasn't sure if it was because she was so tired or because she was so emotionally worn out.

"Here," Derrick returned to her and handed her a chipped blue mug filled with steaming black liquid. 

"Thanks," she took a sip, the liquid hot, but not scalding. Derrick always had  a talent for getting the perfect temperature. 

"Your welcome," he took a sip out of his own cup. For a few minutes they said nothing, the only sound was that of the city outside and Melody sipping coffee. When some of the weariness began to leave her body, she took a deep breath and broke the silence.

"We need to talk," she said, echoing the words she'd used outside.

"Are we going to talk about us, or what made you cry?"

Melody winced, recalling the sight of her red sclera-a dead giveaway to tears. "Both, I guess. You said, before I left that you missed me."

"I do, do you miss me?"

She nodded. "Yes. You were very important to me when we were dating." It was honest. He wasn't James, but he'd brought her happiness still. "And I still care about you very much."

"But?"

"But," Melody whispered as she looked down into her coffee. "I don't know I can give you what you deserve. See, when I was I was away, I ran into Solider Boy." 

"He didn't hurt you did he? Is that why you were crying?" 

"No!" Melody nearly shouted, shaking her head at the same time, trying to get her voice back under control. James would never hurt her.  "No, he didn't hurt me, but seeing him again," she said past the lump forming in her throat. "It was just...very hard, to see him again." 

"Then what happened?"

Melody sighed, her chest constricting painfully. If only that had been possible. She ran her index finger over the rim of her cup, trying to find the words to explain this to Derrick. "No, it's just...He and I weren't together very long but there was a lot of love there. More than most people get in a lifetime." 

"You never told me that," Derrick's voice was soft and Melody winced at it. First she'd hurt James and now Derrick. 

"The wounds were still a bit raw then," she said which was true enough. James had only been gone three months  when she'd first met Derrick.