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Melissa King was tired of dating. Ever since finding out her sister had a boyfriend, was having sex, she decided it was time to get her own life outside of the ER and Becca. It had been going well, she had thought. That is until she got stood up on three third dates. Mel had thought that making it to the third date was a good sign, that maybe things were going somewhere each of the men she had been seeing. She hadn’t been seeing them all at once, which is what makes her laugh now thinking back on it. Mel wonders if they had conspired with one another, planning to have two great dates and then leave her waiting on the third.
Each first date had started the same, at some old school but half decent Italian restaurant downtown. Though Mel didn’t usually spend much time getting ready, she had made herself more presentable than usual for the first dates. She tried, and failed, to curl her hair, wore some mascara and a bit of eyeliner, and pulled out one of her few dresses from her closet. A navy-blue halter topped dress that came down to just above her knees and tied in the back. She had texted Samira a picture of her outfit, asking if it was appropriate enough attire for the venue. Samira sent back a multitude of emojis, emphasizing how much the dress accentuated her figure. Mel took that as a yes, it was appropriate and decided she would call an uber for the night. She didn’t want to make herself more nervous by taking the bus.
The dinner portion of the dates all went fine, she picked the safest food on the menu each time to help her uneasy stomach, just any pasta with marinara. Her dates all had the usual conversation topics to run through; what do you do for work, what bars do you like to go to, let me go on about my finance job that is entirely not interesting to anyone but myself. Mel usually hated small talk, meaningless conversations, but she really tried to be okay with it for the sake of dating.
The second date was always a movie, Mel hated movie theaters but decided to go with it. If her date didn’t slide his hand up her thigh during the movie, they certainly did when they got into his truck or small SUV after. Mel wasn’t opposed, it’s not like had never had sex or been touched before, so she went along with it. She always made sure they used protection; she did not want some random dating app man’s baby in 9 months. More often than not, she just laid on the bed while they did their thing. She supposed the men enjoyed themselves, they certainly made it to the finish line and certainly made no fuss about her performance or lack thereof.
By the third date, each one had offered to take her out to a nicer dinner venue. Each time, she got ready, called an uber, got to the restaurant, and waited for an hour. By the third guy to do this to her, she only waited 45 minutes. None of them ever called, texted, or even remotely tried to contact her. No apology, no rescheduling. Just vanished into thin air.
So yeah, after three times she was really beginning to think the universe was pulling some sort of twisted prank on her.
Samira called an emergency meeting. She told Mel not to worry, that she was pulling together all of the best resources that the Allegheny Medical Center had to offer to help her spruce up her dead, dying, dating life.
It was a Friday, Mel’s shift had just ended, and Samira had sent her the location for the bar they would be meeting up at later that night. So far, Mel knew Santos, Whitaker, and Garcia were going to be there. Mel couldn’t lie; she had been a bit disappointed when Samira was telling her who had responded to her emergency text and didn’t mention Langdon. Mel didn’t have many friends, but Samira and Frank were probably the closest people to her that she felt she could consider friends.
Samira had made sure to give everyone time to go home and wash the shift away before this all-important meeting. Mel still rolled her eyes thinking about it, not really sure it would be productive to have all of her colleagues giving her dating advice. Still, Samira was a good friend and Mel wanted to try to appreciate the effort.
When she got home, she showered and was going to just put on jeans and a T-shirt when her phone wrang.
“Mel! Do you still have that black halter top and mini skirt I let you borrow for that sorry excuse of a date with Jacob?” Jacob was contestant number 2 on her Pranking Melissa King reality dating show.
“I do; did you need them back? I can bring them tonight.” Samira laughed over the phone.
“No, no! Can you wear that tonight?”
Mel fished the clothes in question from a pile in the corner of her room.
“Uh, I guess? I was planning on wearing jeans- “
“Absolutely not, Melissa! What about your eyeliner, do you remember how to do it like I showed you?” Yes, Mel remembered. She wasn’t quite good at it, but she had spent an embarrassingly long amount of time practicing the ‘smokey wing’ as Samira called it.
“Samira, this isn’t a date! It’s just us.” At that, Samira rambled on about how Mel needs to take this more seriously. That her next date could be at the bar tonight.
Mel listened to Samira talk as she tried, and mostly failed, at doing her makeup. When she got it to a place where she felt presentable, Mel put on the outfit that Samira had chosen for the night. When Samira hung up, she had promised to pick Mel up on her way, so Mel tried to do some breathing exercises while she waited.
She wasn’t even sure why she was nervous, but as she got into Samira’s car, she had felt a slight tremble in her hands. It wasn’t like this was anything new to her, they all went out to the bars fairly regularly. Something about Samira telling everyone about her dating woes made Mel feel more anxious than usual about it. She preferred it when she could hang out on the sidelines, sometimes when Frank would join, they would sit at their own table and chat over two diet sodas. He usually offered to take her home when the music began to get too loud, and more often than not she happily accepted his offer. When Frank didn’t join them, “family stuff”, he’d say, Mel would usually wait until Samira was ready to wrangle the overly drunk bunch and get a ride home with her.
Mel was surprised to see that Santos and Whitaker were already there. They had saved a table big enough for everyone, thankfully in a back corner of the bar where Mel could seep into her misery and embarrassment more readily when needed.
“Are you kidding? Mel, are you sure you don’t want to play for the ladies’ team?” Santos let out an enthusiastic whistle; Mel felt her face turn to fire but let out a small laugh.
“Been there, tried that, but thanks.” Trinity smiled, playfully nudging Mel with her elbow as she sat down. Mel still didn’t understand why she had to get all dolled up for this, it wasn’t like she wanted to impress anyone at this table.
Garcia showed up not too long after they did, and the crew quickly got a round of drinks going to the table. Garcia and Santos chat flirtatiously across the table with each other. Dennis and Samira are bickering about some sort of inaccuracy in a medical drama that they were watching. Mel was contempt to have everyone distracted in their own conversation.
“So, Mel, Samira says this meeting is to discuss your pathetic dating life?” Trinity nudges her again. Mel’s face heats up.
“We really don’t need to talk about- “
“Talk about what?” Mel has her back turned to the room, so she never saw him come in but she recognizes his voice without evening having to look.
“About how much of an asshole you are.” Santos shoots him a teasing smile. Mel thinks briefly that she is happy that the two of them have made amends.
“Oh really? I heard we were meeting to talk about Mel’s love life.” Franks hand grazes her lower back as he takes the open seat at the edge of the table next to her.
“I wouldn’t really call it a love life, that would imply that someone loved her.” Trinity retorts.
“Ouch, I’m sitting right here you know.” Mel looks down at her drink; she knows that her face is permanently red now.
“Guys stop being so dramatic, I just wanted us all to get together to come up with tips for her to try to have more success with finding someone.” Samira, who’s on her second drink already, chimes in.
“I am still right here as a matter of fact.” Mel adds, her voice is quieter.
“How many guys have you tried to score, Mel?” Garcia turns to her.
“Only three, they all stood me up on the third date.” She watches their expressions as they all cringe.
“All of them?” Dennis asks from across the table.
“All of them.” Mel recounts how each date went, explaining that she felt like they were all following the same script. She tells them about how they all slept with her, how she thought that meant that they really liked her. She recounts waiting for an hour each time for them to show up for their third date, how none of them ever talked to her again.
When she’s done talking and looks up, she’s expecting everyone to be gone from how quiet it had gotten. She is shocked to find that instead, they are all staring at her with their mouths gaping open. As if everything she had just said was the most absurd thing in the world.
“Mel…” Trinity is speechless. And she’s not the only one. No one says anything for quite some time. Mel looks at Frank, and she is surprised to see how pained he looks. She wonders for a moment if his back is bothering him from the barstool.
“Can someone just say something, anything?” Mel pleads, she feels like she is absolutely on fire now.
“Mel, did you ask them to have sex with you on the second date?” Samira is the first to collect her thoughts.
“What? No, of course not. They all just, started touching me. Is that not standard?”
Dennis laughed and Trinity smacked him in the back of the head.
“Mel, there is no standard when it comes to dating or having sex. But if you didn’t want to, then why did you?” Trinity looks more concerned than Mel would have thought.
“It isn’t that I didn’t want to, I just didn’t feel particularly drawn one way or another about it and it seemed like they really wanted to. I just thought that…” Mel doesn’t even know what she thought.
She remembers feeling like maybe her desire to want to have sex with them would start as things got more heated. None of them had particularly turned her on, they didn’t really bother trying to arouse her in any way. Mel had sex a few times in college with people who she had been talking to, they all seemed interested and Mel had thought similarly back then. None of it was ever bad, but Mel supposes she has no frame of reference for what good sex could feel like. She had plenty of experience with herself, she knew how to get herself off.
“Mel, you should never just give a man what he wants so easily. On the second date?” Samira sounded appalled. To be fair, Mel did not share most of this information with her prior to this evening. She would have thought twice about coming here if she knew this was how everyone would react.
Everyone erupted into a chaotic debate about how long it should take before having sex with someone you barely know. Mel just kept her head down, a wave of shame suddenly washing over her. She had almost forgotten that Frank was there when she felt the brush of his pinky against her own.
She looked up at him, watching the pained expression from earlier melt into something softer.
“You need some air?” He asked her quietly, leaning in just enough to make sure only she could hear. She nodded, and he placed a hand on her shoulder as he guided her through the now crowded bar to the front door.
When they stepped outside, Mel finally took a breath. Frank’s hand, once on her shoulder, was now resting on the small of her back as he brought them over to a nearby bench. Even as they sat down, his hand still remained. Mel tried not to think too much about it. He was being supportive; this was nothing more than any of the comforting gestures he offered her during a rough shift. He’s still with Abby.
“They certainly are an opinionated bunch.” Frank laughed softly, and Mel smiled.
“I know they mean well, I just don’t think there’s anything they can do to fix me.” Mel’s smile turned sad, and Frank frowned.
“There’s nothing wrong with you, Mel. You’re perfect.” For probably the billionth time that night, Mel’s face felt like fire at those words.
“For the record though, do what you want with your body but try not to let just anyone touch you unless they make you feel good too, yeah?” She felt his hand press into her spine, firm, guarding.
“I just don’t know what’s wrong with me. Becca is out here having the time of her life with her boyfriend, and I can’t even feel anything for these guys.” Mel can feel the tears beginning to prick her eyes.
“Maybe you just haven’t found the right one. Sometimes it’s…less about how attractive they are physically and more about how attracted to them you are up here.” His other hand reaches up and points to her forehead. His other hand is busy rubbing his thumb up and down on her spine. She shudders.
She knows he’s right. Has always known that. But that’s the problem. She can’t have the one person in the entire world who has ever been attractive to her like that. The first person she’s ever been able to call her friend. The first person she’s ever liked.
“I’m not sure I’m ever going to be able to have that.” She feels the tears start to fall, and she quickly stands up and begins walking in the opposite direction of the bar.
Frank is quick to his feet behind her, is quick to catch up with her, and is quick to notice the tears staining her cheeks. She knows she looks ridiculous right now, makeup running down her face, it’s usually how she would look coming back from her many miserable dates.
“Mel, hold on-“
“I just want to go home, Frank.”
“So let me take you.” She stops, thinking about it. She should probably just let him, save herself the money on the uber, but she can feel herself slipping and knows she doesn’t have long before the dam really bursts. Frank reaches out and gently grabs her hand, slowly guiding her to the nearby parking garage that holds his car. She doesn’t bother trying to resist, she never had before so why start now.
As they pulled up to her apartment, Frank put the car in park and started to get out. Mel held up a hand.
“I-I just want to be alone right now, if that’s okay.” Mel watched as Frank’s expression wore that of the pained look he had on earlier. She shouldn’t have let him sit with her on that bench for so long.
“Can I walk you to your door at least, just to make sure you get in alright?” Mel felt herself nod, and was met with a gentle, sad smile.
Frank did as he said, he walked her to her door and waited until he heard the door lock before leaving. As soon as she heard his footsteps walk away, Mel slid down her front door and cried in the entryway of her small apartment. If Becca was home, she didn’t come out to check on her.
~~~
She didn’t remember getting herself to bed, but when she woke up the next morning Mel rolled over and found her phone unplugged under her pillow. When it finally had enough battery to turn on again, it began buzzing with more notifications than Mel had ever received in her life.
Samira: You okay? Did Frank take you home?
Trinity: Just trying to look out for you Melanoma, sorry if I was too harsh
Garcia: Let me know if you need real advice, hope you get home safe.
Mel was trying to figure out how to respond to all of them when the last one came through.
Frank: I’m here if you need to talk.
Frank: I’m sorry.
Frank: You looked beautiful tonight.
Mel tossed her phone across the bed. She stared at the ceiling, sighing. She knows he doesn’t mean it like that. She knows he’s just trying to make her feel better. She knows she should ignore the butterflies in her stomach.
Finally, she gets out of bed and goes to knock on Becca’s door, only to find that she’s already sitting on the couch.
“Good morning.” Mel’s throat feels raw.
“Morning, Mel. Can we have eggs?” Mel nods, heading to the kitchen to prepare breakfast.
She asks Becca how her night was, if her and Adam have any plans together soon. Becca is happy to talk about him now, happy to share that she was up watching movies with him on FaceTime last night. Mel smiles, happy for her sister.
“I saw Frank drop you off.” Mel freezes, the eggs falling off her fork. Becca had met Frank a handful of times, Becca liked Frank.
“I was just out with my cowor-my friends.”
“Why were you crying then?” Of course. Just her luck.
“It was nothing, just tired.” Becca seems to bite the bait, shrugging and shoveling another spoonful of egg in her mouth.
Becca took care of the dishes, as per their usual morning routine. Mel was thankful for the day off; glad she didn’t have to face anyone from last night yet. Mel wanted to forget all about last night. She wanted to forget all about the hand on her back, her shoulder, taking her own hand. She wanted to erase the way he made her feel. Squash the butterflies that ravaged her stomach when she thought of him.
Frank was her friend. Frank was married. Frank had a family.
She took a scalding shower, melting away whatever lingering touch was on her skin. With no other plans for the day, Mel decided to take to her dating apps again. Samira had helped her set them up months ago when Mel had asked about how to find a boyfriend. Frank was there, she distinctly remembers the frown that cast upon his face as Samira giggled and took her phone, scrolling through her pictures to make her profile. She had tried to show it to Frank, needing an opinion from the male gaze. Frank declined the offer, saying he just remembered he needed to pick up something for the kids before he went home. He got up and left without saying bye to anyone. It was 11 pm.
Mel opened it now and swiped, hardly even looking at the profiles as they popped up. It wasn’t like it mattered to her. They were all the same. She swiped on a profile, Logan, and matched instantly. Perfect.
Hi, want to get coffee?
Mel hates coffee, but she hates coming up with cheesy pick-up lines even more. To her surprise, Logan responds pretty quickly.
Sure!
She gives him the name of the coffee shop three blocks from her apartment, far enough for her to feel safe that he won’t find where she lives, but close enough that she can just walk. She gets out of bed, throwing on a pair of jeans and a baggy sweatshirt. She braids her hair back as she looks for her wallet and keys and briefly stops by Becca’s room to let her know she will be out for a bit but to call if she needs anything.
Mel grabs her headphones as she heads out the door. She doesn’t even play music as she walks, just muting the world around her while she takes in the cool spring air. She gets to the coffee shop and finds a quiet corner, ordering herself tea with honey while she waits. Her fingers tap the table nervously, but it doesn’t take him long to show up.
He looks the same as he does in his pictures, which brings Mel some relief. Maybe he won’t be some weird creep who will try to harvest her organs. She would probably have to tell him how to do it.
“Mel?” He walks up to the table, smiling, and holds out a hand. “I’m Logan.” She shakes his hand, her own probably sweating.
He grabs himself a cold brew, she wrinkles her nose when he offers her a sip. He asks her what she does for work, and like every other time she tries to not let herself ramble on about the emergency department and how it has been her passion, how she gets a rush from saving lives. He seems interested though and asks her about what cool or unusual procedures she’s had to perform. She starts going on about her first ever crike but quickly changes the subject when she begins to think about Frank, how he was there, how he told her she had been perfect.
Logan says he works at a public-school teaching middle school social studies. She smiles, finding it more interesting than finance, and lets him talk about what he does for fun.
They had been talking for an hour, and Mel is finally starting to feel a bit looser. She can feel the tension in her muscles dissipate, thankful that she can finally relax a bit. Logan seems nice, he is relatively attractive, with dark brown hair, olive eyes. She’s not sure that she is really attracted to him, but she could see herself getting there.
When they go to leave, he offers to walk her to her car. She admits that she actually walked to the coffee shop, and at that he offers to drive her home. She hesitates for a moment but agrees. Usually, she doesn’t get in their car until the second date. Usually getting in their car means they’ll have sex. She thinks back to last night, everyone debating when it was appropriate timing to have sex with someone you just met.
Thankfully, Logan does not show any indication that he wants to have sex. She directs him to drop her off at the stop light near her apartment, and he pulls off to do so. He turns to Mel, smiling, and asks if she would be interested in a second date. Mel doesn’t hesitate when she agrees.
~~~
“Who’s Logan?” Samira asks, startling Mel as she stares at her phone. Mel feels a flush creep up her neck. She hadn’t told anyone at work about him yet. She tries to turn back to her forgotten charting but is too distracted by Samira’s prying eyes.
“Just a guy I’ve been on a few dates with.” Mel tries to keep her voice quiet, not wanting everyone in the ED to overhear about her love life.
“A few dates? Have you gotten past the third?” Mel curses under her breath, Samira practically shouting to the whole floor. Mel avoids Frank’s gaze from across the room.
“Would you be quiet? We’ve been on exactly three dates; it isn’t that serious.” And she isn’t lying. Still, Samira squeals, drawing more attention in their direction.
They text infrequently, but they’ve been on two more dates since the coffee shop. He took her to a garden, which was rather nice, and made her dinner at his place. She had thought that the dinner at his place would lead to anything but, but thankfully she had been wrong. She still didn’t feel the butterflies for him, but if he wanted to she probably would have.
He was texting her now, sending her a picture of a card one of his students made him. She had smiled, written him back saying how sweet it was. That was it. There was no magic, no major romance update. Just some dates and casual texts.
“We should totally meet him.” Samira, already plotting, declared.
“Meet who?” Great, just the person Mel didn’t want to hear this.
“Mel’s new boyfriend.”
“He’s not my boyfriend.” Mel sighed, seriously trying to return to her charting as Frank now stood over her, the corners of his mouth turned down.
“Come on, Frank. Tell Mel how it would be a good idea for us to meet him, see if he’s worthy of our girl.” Mel couldn’t meet either of their eyes, her own trained on the screen in front of her, though not seeing any of it.
“I can already tell you, no one is worthy of our girl.” His hand grazed her shoulder as he walked by, and Mel sucked in a breath that she had already been holding. Her heart was racing. Her face felt warm, but she tried to continue her charting, staring blearily at the screen.
“What’s gotten into him lately?” Mel had hardly noticed Samira still standing there. Mel simply shrugged, not really having much of an answer.
They hadn’t really talked since that night at the bar. It wasn’t that Mel was avoiding him, if he approached her, she still listened, she still stuck with him when he called for her to follow him to his next case. But she couldn’t bear it. Couldn’t handle being alone with him. For all the months since he had come back, she had always enjoyed the light touches. An affirming squeeze of the shoulder as she took on a difficult case, a hand to her lower back as he passed behind her, holding her hand when she was shaken up, a firm, comforting hug when she had a really bad day. She couldn’t control it, her heartbeat speeding up when he entered the room, her stomach twisting at the slightest touch. This feeling was unfamiliar to her, but she knew.
Those first couple of months, she spent a lot of time in bed thinking about him. Thinking about those hands on her back, shoulders, thinking about where else they could go.
She also spent a lot of time harboring a deep sense of shame. He was married. He has a family. And that night, at the bar, she felt so much shame. How could she want someone who she could never have?
So no, Mel had no idea what was wrong with Frank. She never responded to his text that night, not even sure how she would.
Want to meet my friends this weekend?
She shoots Logan the text before she can think twice about it. His reply comes only seconds later.
Sure!
Mel shows Samira the text, to which she squeals again. She runs off to find the others, letting them know they are celebrating this Friday.
~~~
It’s Friday.
Mel’s shift ends later than expected, she had asked Logan to pick her up from work so they could go to her apartment and get ready for the evening, but quickly texted him to let him know she would be getting out later than expected and to head on home, unsure of when she would be able to leave the ED. He sends her a simple, alright sounds good. And she almost wants to cry.
Frank had agreed once to pick her up from work when she told him she had forgotten her wallet for the bus at home. He wasn’t on shift that day, but she was desperate to get home. He had told her he would be waiting in the parking lot, to come find him when she was done. She had almost been to the end of her shift when a multi vehicle crash was reported, and they needed all hands on deck. Mel quickly shot Frank a text, telling him to forget about it and that she would just call an uber, that she had no clue when she was getting out. His reply had been quick.
no worries, take your time, I’ll be waiting.
He waited for two more hours before she was able to excuse herself from her shift.
Now, Mel finds a seat on the bus that arrives 15 minutes later than it was scheduled to. She’s already running late, and by the time she gets off at her stop she only has 30 minutes before she has to be back out the door to meet up with everyone else. She thinks about just blowing it all together, staying home and tucking herself into bed, but she knows Samira is looking forward to this. She should be looking forward to it.
She pulls on the first thing she sees, jeans and a plain black top. She doesn’t have time to do her hair or any makeup, so she just leaves it as is before heading back out the door. Logan was supposed to be here by now, but as she stands on the sidewalk in front of her apartment, she finds herself wondering if she was ever going to see him again.
“Hello?” He answers on the fourth ring, sounding groggy.
“Are you almost here? We are going to be late.” She hears him curse.
“Shit, babe, I’m so sorry. I’ll be there in 20.” He hangs up the phone. Mel sighs, texting him the address to the bar and walking to the nearest bus stop as she sees the next bus pulling in. She’s already waiting outside, and the bus will get her to the bar faster than waiting for Logan.
When she arrives, everyone else is there and at their usual table at the back. She is surprised to see Frank sitting, back against the wall in the corner, talking to Garcia. Before she can think much more about it, Santos is shoving a drink in her hand and Samira is leaning against her shoulder.
“Where is your boyfriend?” Samira asks, her breath wreaking heavily of the few drinks she’s already had. Mel sees Frank watching intently, tries to avert her gaze.
“Probably 15 minutes out.” Mel watches as Frank frowns at something, unsure of what.
She takes the drink that Santos had handed her, downing it before anyone else can ask her questions. She had been correct, almost. It took Logan 20 minutes to get there, and another 10 before he found them in the back. He kisses her cheek and mumbles an apology in her ear, to which she shrugs and introduces him to everyone. Samira and Trinity do most of the talking, asking him a million questions. Mel tries not to look at Frank, but she can tell by his tight-fisted grip on his diet soda that he’s livid about something.
Mel lets Logan get settled in with the group and heads up to the bar to get herself water and a coke. There’s an open stool at the bar, so she decides to sit down and take a moment to herself before heading back to the table. The bar is busy, but not crowded, so she is surprised when she feels someone against her side.
“I’ll be up in a second and then you can have the chair.” She doesn’t bother to look.
“Mel, it’s me.” At that, she turns to see Frank. His fist is still tight around his glass, knuckles white. He’s standing next to her, but she can feel every inch of him in her space. She takes a deep breath and tries to steady her racing heart.
“What do you want?” She doesn’t mean it to come out as harsh as it does.
“Mel, I-“He looks away, and she can tell that he’s looking at the table. Looking at Logan.
Mel feels her own fists tighten, feels her jaw tense as she waits. Waits for whatever he might have to say. She’s not even sure why she’s feeling so angry. She can see Logan looking back at her briefly, smiling, and turning back to her friends. This should all be a good thing, so why does everything feel so wrong?
“Mel, I wanted to talk to you about-“ Mel cuts him off, walking away before he can even finish his thought. She doesn’t know where she’s going, she just knows that she needs to get out. She can’t talk to him, she can’t be sitting next to him, she can’t feel his body pressed against hers. She finds Logan, tells him she’s ready to leave, and goes to the front door. Logan follows her, stumbling between the bodies of everyone in the bar as he tries to get to her.
When they get outside, Mel sucks in a breath of the crisp, cool air. She can finally breathe, and a weight is lifted off of her chest. Logan leads her to his car, and the car ride back to her place is silent.
“Do you want to have sex with me?” She hardly even recognizes her voice.
“What? Uh, yeah, yes. At some point? We don’t have to do anything yet though, if you don’t want to.” Mel hates that he can be considerate. She wants to hate him so much.
“Will you have sex with me right now?” She still doesn’t recognize her own voice, doesn’t even know where all of this is coming from. Truly, the last thing she wants is to have anyone touching her skin right now. And yet, she wants to erase the feeling of him.
Logan nods, following her inside. He’s gentle, very much taking his time and going slow for what she thinks is supposed to be her sake. He stops several times, checking to make sure that she really wants this, and she really just wants him to be quiet and get it over with. To replace the weight of Frank’s body at her side, to erase the memories of Frank’s hands on her. She doesn’t want to think about Frank.
And yet, as Logan is inside her, he is all she can think about. If she closes her eyes just enough, he almost looks like Frank. She thinks about how it would feel if he was inside her right now, if he had been the one to kiss down her neck. She thinks about those hands, how gentle yet firm they were. She thinks about his soft voice, whispering in her ear, telling her how perfect she is.
There’s no one like you.
He had once told her, as she cried about losing a patient she tried so hard to save. As he tried to remind her of all the good inside her.
Mel doesn’t want to, but she allows herself to imagine all the places his hands would go. As Logan drags a hand along her thigh, she imagines Frank’s stronger hands in his place. She imagines him on top of her, thrusting in and out. She thinks about how he would wait for her to finish before he could. And now, she thinks this might be the closest she’s ever come to finishing with someone else, and it isn’t even real.
Logan finishes without much flourish, doesn’t even notice or ask if she finished, if she enjoyed it. He presses a kiss to her shoulder as she turns onto her side facing the wall, and she lets her tears fall silently. She feels him get up, hears the front door close after he’s gotten dressed, and hopes she never sees him again.
~~~
“You took your boyfriend from us too quickly; we were just getting to know him!” Samira frowns.
“Doesn’t matter, we broke up.” Mel gets the last of her stuff from her locker before closing it, ready for today to be over.
She remembers the first guy that stood her up all those months ago. She remembers sitting at the restaurant, waiting for him to show up. She called Frank after an hour of waiting.
“Hey, everything okay?” He sounded far away, the sounds of him cooking dinner coming through the phone.
“He uh, he didn’t show up. For our date.” She heard the stirring stop, heard what sounded like Frank picking up his phone and turning her off speaker, she heard him grab his keys.
“Where are you?” She told him the name of the place, he told her he would be there in 10. He wasn’t lying.
She watched him walk into the restaurant; she hadn’t moved from the table and could tell that the waitress was getting antsy to get her moving so they could seat other customers. Frank spotted her immediately, pushing past the waitress and heading straight for her table. He placed his order, asking Mel what she wanted, and placed hers as well. They ate together in comfortable silence.
She can still recall what he told her on the drive home.
“You didn’t deserve that Mel, I would never make you feel that way.”
And yet here she was, feeling exactly that. Alone, abandoned, unwanted. But it wasn’t his fault, she knows that he would never intentionally make her feel this way. And yet, when Logan had told her he didn’t think it was going to work out, that her heart was clearly in a different place, she felt it all over again.
He was right, of course he was right. But that didn’t make it any better. Frank may never intentionally make her feel that way, but everything he ever did always led her back to that feeling. Abandoned, alone, unloved. Because no one else could ever care for her half as much as he did. And she hated him for it. Hated him for showing her everything she deserved, all while she couldn’t have any of it. All while it was just helping a friend, nothing more.
She could hardly ever find it within herself to be disappointed when she got stood up, or when things with Logan didn’t work out. Because they would never be him. She had felt relief when Logan ripped the Band-Aid off. He was too nice for her to continue to lead him on.
She hadn’t realized how long she had been standing there until Samira had tapped her shoulder, she could vaguely hear her talking but not much above the noise in her head. Mel grabbed the rest of her things and walked out the door, giving no further thought to what Samira had been saying.
Everything just felt so numb.
Mel felt humiliated, though she had brought this upon herself. It was her idea to introduce him to her friends; it was practically her idea to end things with him.
Tears welled up in her eyes, and she froze. Nowhere to go, feet planted to the ground outside the entrance to the ED. She wasn’t sure how long she stood there, but she felt a pair of arms wrap tightly around her, pulling her back against their chest, felt herself sink deeper into them, felt herself begin to crumble to the floor.
She stayed like that for a long time. Wrapped in a tight embrace, one that almost felt like an apology. Eventually, she was able to open her eyes enough to see the familiar sobriety bracelet on his arm as it was wrapped around her belly. She cried even more. She let him guide her to his car, take her bags and place them in the backseat. She let him drive her home, handing over her keys to the open palm. She let him help her up the stairs to her apartment, allowing him to guide her through the door and to the couch. She hasn’t stopped crying, isn’t sure when she will stop, but he stays right there. Holding her, she feels his lips press against her forehead. She cries harder.
Eventually, she calms down enough to look at him. He looks wrecked, like he’s been crying too. Maybe he has, she’s not sure. Neither of them says anything for some time, she scoots back on the couch away from him.
“Can we talk? Please?” Mel just blinks at him, unable to find her words.
“Okay, I’m going to talk. I’ve had something I’ve needed to tell you for a long time, and I’m not sure how you are going to take it. I know I’ve been throwing confusing signals your way, I’m really sorry. I-My wife and I finalized our divorce two months ago. I had wanted to tell you but-“Mel feels another dam burst.
Two months ago. Finalized.
He hadn’t been married. He hadn’t told her anything about a divorce. She had no idea. She sobs and sobs, he tries to reach for her, but she pushes back.
“Y-You’ve known this for months and yet you let me think that all this was nothing to you? That I was nothing to you?” She finally finds her words, and her breathing hitches as she starts to hyperventilate.
“Mel, you are everything to me.” Frank reaches to place a hand on her cheek, to let her know he’s there, to feel her, to just simply reach her, but she flinches away from his touch.
“Why didn’t you tell me? Why have you been letting me make a fool out of myself for months!” And she wants to scream, wants to fall apart and disappear. Months. He’s known for months and he’s just let her humiliate herself time and time again.
“I filed for divorce in July; I didn’t want her to hold anything else against me if she were to think I was cheating on her. I know we weren’t--I know we didn’t do anything wrong. I wanted to do this right, Mel. I didn’t want you to have to be a secret.” She didn’t think she could possibly cry any harder, but Frank pulls her into a tight hug, and she cries until she has no more tears.
Frank gets up to grab her a glass of water, telling her it isn’t good to cry so much. That she’s at risk for dehydration. As if she isn’t also a doctor. He sits across from her on the couch, waiting for her to be ready to talk.
“So, none of it- “
“None of it was fake. None of it was in your head. Mel, I love you. It has been killing me to see you put yourself through all of this with these stupid guys. It was never anything to do with you, Mel. I tried; I tried to be there for you how I could. Abby, she wanted to keep trying to make it work. It took a long time to get her to sign the papers. I shouldn’t have put you through that, I should have been clear to you what was going on. Mel, I’m so sorry.”
Mel didn’t even have words to say to that. She sat on the couch; knees pressed to her chest and just stared at him.
All the looks, all the small touches, all the late nights, they weren’t for nothing. All the shame she felt, while still not totally gone, no longer had to hold the powers of guilt over her like a knife to her throat.
Frank didn’t move; he just watched her right back. She couldn’t tell what he was thinking, but she could see the sadness and regret etched into his face. They sat there for a long time, sharing silence. She didn’t have anything to say, and she could feel her eyes getting heavy, so without saying anything she laid her head in his lap, falling asleep to him running his fingers through her hair.
~~~
When she woke up, Frank had moved her to her bed. He was snoring beside her, and she curled further into him.
“Good morning,” she felt his voice vibrate through his chest.
“Morning.” He ran his hands through her hair again; she closed her eyes. She felt him smile as he planted a kiss on her hair.
“Do you know how badly I have wanted to kiss you?” She looks up at him, and she can see it written on his face. Desperately.
“Then why haven’t you done it yet?” She jabs.
Frank sits up, propping himself on his elbow as Mel lays her head back on her pillow. He rests his other hand gently against her cheek, pulling her in to meet him halfway as he places his lips against hers. His lips are soft, warm, and she melts into their embrace. She can feel the butterflies in her stomach churning. His lips move to part hers, and she welcomes him in. It’s almost like they are made for each other, the way his lips meld into hers and their bodies align together.
She has never felt this way with anyone else. Never felt that bolt of electricity, the aching between her legs. He makes it seem so simple, like the right answer was there all along. And she supposes it has been she just had no idea.
Frank pulls away to look at her, breathless and panting.
“God, Mel. You are perfect. I would wait a hundred years for you; I would wait forever.” He dives back down to kiss her again, and she moans into his lips.
The hand holding her cheek slowly slides down her body, only stopping to hitch at her waistband. She tries to wriggle herself out of her pants, but Frank keeps a firm grip against her waist.
“I don’t want to mess this up, Mel. I want to do this right.”
“Frank, I have been dreaming about this moment for months, there is no more right way than to just fuck me.” And Frank groans, head rolling back for a moment in pure bliss.
For the first time probably ever, Mel had never been more certain about this. She wanted him, she had known it for so long.
“Melissa King, I love you. And because I love you, I want to take you on at least 3 dates before I take you to bed.” Mel laughs, rolling him over and pressing him into the mattress. She can feel how hard he is underneath her, she can feel how bad he wants this.
“You’ve probably taken me on at least 5 at this point.” She leans down to kiss him, slowly grinding her hips against his. Frank lets out a soft moan, the hands she’s been dreaming about for months coming to find their home on the backs of her thighs.
“I do want to take you on real dates. I promise.” She looks at him.
“Frank, I know that you want me for more than just sex. I’m not worried about that. But please, can you just fuck me like you mean it right now?” She watches him swallow, nodding.
She takes her time on top of him, slowly removing his shirt, his pants. He removes her shirt, slides a hand under her pants as she continues to kiss down his neck. She lets out a soft moan. She wants to kiss every last inch of him. She wants him to feel how much she has wanted him, wants him to know how much she has missed him. How much she loves him.
Finally, her pants come off, and she sits back in his lap. Frank sits up, wrapping his arms tightly around her again.
“I am serious though, how can I make this feel good for you too? I want to know what you like, everything.” And she could cry. And she does. Because of course he wants to know everything, of course he wants to make sure she feels good before him.
She guides his hand back to where it was, allowing him to find her sweet spot. Once he finds her clitoris, she lets out a sigh, leaning her forehead against his shoulder as she rocks her hips into his hand. He continues to pull the moans from her lips, doesn’t stop until she is writhing in his arms, legs trembling as she reaches her orgasm. She isn’t finished though, and she guides his hand further, until he is filling her with his fingers. Frank moans in her ear, telling her how good she is, how perfect and wet she is just for him.
“I need you.” She whimpers against his shoulder. He obliges, removing his fingers before lining himself up. He pauses, and she grabs him the condom from her nightstand. She gives him a moment to put it on, whimpering at the emptiness he has left in her wake.
“Come here, sweetheart.” And she does.
Finally, he lines himself up and slowly begins to insert himself. Mel whines, rocking her hips lower, needing more. She finds what she was looking for, taking control of the pace as she continues to move her hips against him. She pushes his shoulder to have him lean back, sitting up straight on him and throwing her head back at the new angle. She lets a filthy moan slip past her lips, and she can hear him moaning in return.
“You look so good when you use me to make yourself feel good, keep going baby.” And she had never liked being called baby, not until he said it.
She takes him further, leaning forward and burying her face into his shoulder. He thrusts into her, making a deep moan escape her lips as he hits just the right spot over and over again. She can feel herself getting close, beginning to tighten around him. She asks Frank if he needs to come, he shakes his head.
“I want you to feel good, darling. Whatever you need, take it.” And she lets another moan rip through her as he says it, driving deeper into her. She feels herself coming undone, clenching around him, her hips stuttering. He coaxes her through it.
“That’s it baby, so good for me baby. So perfect.” And she’s done, completely spent. Frank thrusts into her for only a moment more before he moans out her name, plunging into her one last time as he reaches his climax.
Both breathing hard, they lie there for awhile before moving. Frank moves first, getting up to grab a towel and helping wipe her down. She’s used to them leaving after, but she isn’t used to this. Isn’t used to him guiding her to stand, holding her hand as he leads her to the bathroom and sits her on the side of her tub as he starts the shower. Isn’t used to the way he runs the shampoo through her hair, or the way his hands lather the soap down her body, making sure to cover every inch and peppering her with kisses as he goes.
She isn’t used to the way he dresses her, finding clothes that he knows will be comforting to her. She’s definitely not used to the way he wraps her up in the blanket, drawing her close to his side, and whispers all the things he loves about her as she lets her tears fall again.
And most of all, she definitely isn’t used to it being Frank, the only man she has ever loved. She leans up to press a kiss to his lips.
“I love you.” She whispers.
“I love you more.” He whispers back.