The day Melissa left was a hard one. Luke was frustrated for obvious reasons. I was upset because, over the week we had continued exchanging letters and now I felt a bond with her. I listened as Luke and Melissa discussed if it would be safe for her to come and live closer now that my dad was in custody. Even then, it would probably take months for her to get moved somewhere in North Carolina.
This was all discussed on the way to the airport and when we finally got there, Melissa insisted to do goodbyes at the car so she could get a hold of her emotions before going into security. We all got out of the car and stood awkwardly for a moment.
"Madeline, thank you for letting your walls down for me to get to know you," Melissa told me. "I'm so glad I got to meet you. You are so special. I'm glad to call you part of the family." She told me. We both teared up and I murmured a 'thank you.' Then we hugged and she murmured something about continuing to write to each other and I nodded. Then I opted to give her and Luke some alone time and got into the passenger seat of the car. Melissa's lips moved a mile a minute before she broke into a bout of sobs and Luke let her fall into his embrace so she could feel some comfort. They hugged for a few long moments before letting go, Luke wiping one of his mom's tears off her cheek with his thumb, kissing her forehead and then helping her part of the way with her luggage before turning back to the car. Luke got into the driver's side and we both stared out the window for a while. It was well after Melissa made it into the airport that we broke the silent stare.
"Let me drive for a while, you were up early," I told him. We'd had to leave at three a.m. to make the flight and the airport was hours away.
"So were you." He protested, his voice groggy.
"I slept part of the way here." I reminded him. He yawned.
"Fine." He gave in. We switched places. "If you scratch my car-"
"I know; I'm dead." I cut him off, relaying what he told me every time I used his car.
YOU ARE READING
Stepbrother (Sequel to Stockholm Syndrome)
Ficțiune generală"I just want you to know how terrifying it is to have no control. Like, physically, no control over what happens to you. Nothing. Being at the mercy of someone else's hand." The look he gave me was glazed over with pain. "The thing is, you aren't th...
