But it’s not a laugh. Not really. It’s the hollow kind, the sound people make when they’ve broken so cleanly they don’t realize they’ve shattered. Melanie and I exchange a glance—sharp, uneasy. Her mom’s not here anymore. She’s staring down at her plate like it personally betrayed her.
I watch her—this woman unraveling quietly in front of us—and I can’t help but feel a pang of pity. It has to be hell, realizing the man you spent your life with wasn’t just a liar but a predator. A monster wearing a husband’s skin.
“Mom,” Melanie says softly, her voice tiptoeing around a minefield. “Do you want to lie down? We don’t have to talk about it. It’s?—”
Without a word, her mom rises, grabs her coffee in one hand and the vodka bottle in the other like she’s reaching for armor, and disappears out the back door. A ghost heading for sunlight.
Melanie stays standing there. Silent. Still. But I see it—the devastation she’s trying to cage inside. It’s in her jaw, clenched hard. In the way her chest rises too fast, too shallow. She’s unraveling and doing everything in her power not to fall apart.
I pull her into my side. “It will be okay.” I rub her arm gently. “Let her be alone for now.”
Melanie gives the tiniest nod. “Ya, okay.”
“Hey, look at me.” I guide her chin up with my finger, not letting her shrink away. “You did nothing wrong. I’m proud of you. That took a lot of courage.”
“Ya.” Her eyes flick away like she doesn’t believe it. Like the guilt still owns too much space inside her.
“C’mon, let’s sit down and eat some breakfast.” I wrap my arm around her, guiding her toward the table. Not for show. Because I needed her to feel me there, feel that she’s not alone anymore. Not with me.
I pull out her chair, sit her down, and press a kiss to the top of her head—soft, steady.
“I’m really not hungry,” she says as I start placing breakfast in front of her.
“Melanie, you need to eat.” I scoop eggs and bacon onto her plate.
“I said I’m not hungry.”
I lower myself down to my knees in front of her, take her hands in mine. “You have to take care of yourself. I know you’re blaming yourself right now, questioning everything, but you are the victim here. You were a little girl. You did nothing wrong. So stop beating yourself up over the truth. If your mom wants to fall apart, let her. People process grief in their own ways.”
She doesn’t speak. Just nods, slow and numb. But she heard me. I can see it land somewhere behind her eyes.
“And if you were my little girl…” My voice thickens, but I keep going. “I would’ve wrapped you in my arms and told you how damn sorry I was because that’s what love does. It protects. It doesn’t deny. It doesn’t disappear.”
Her eyes blink slowly, and something changes in her face, like a fog lifting, just enough to see me clearly. Like maybe, for the first time, she believes I mean it.
“I want you to eat something before you go anywhere.”
“I’m supposed to go get my hair done with her later.”
“Oh, okay. Don’t worry about coming to the restaurant, I’ll h?—”
“No,” she cuts in quickly. “I want to come in. I’d prefer it. I’m sure my mom is going to drink until she passes out. Staying busy will help take my mind off things.”
It took thirty minutes to convince her to keep her appointment with Abigail. She needed the distraction, the break, something normal to cling to. While she was getting pampered, I helped my mom prep pasta for the dinner rush and handled Diablo’s numbers.
Business was booming thanks to Melanie’s work behind the scenes. If it kept up, in a month, I could make my final payment to Diablo and finally get him out of our lives.
I should have been elated.
But dread clung to my chest like wet clothes.
Because that meant Melanie and I could go our separate ways, just like we promised. And now that her mom knew about the diabetes, she’d probably get a pension, alimony—whatever. She’d have options. She could leave.
But I didn’t want her to go.
I liked our strange little rhythm. Her sarcasm, that dog who thought he ran the place—I didn’t want to lose any of it.
When I pulled into the driveway, Loco came barreling toward me, ears flopping, tail high.
