MELANIE
“Honey, I’m home,” Nick calls out as he steps through the front door, a hint of amusement in his voice. “Always wanted to say that.”
I hear the refrigerator door open, then shut. Footsteps move through the house, slow but steady. When he reaches the bedroom, I’m still curled up on the bed, my arms wrapped tightly around my knees, Loco nestled at my feet.
Nick hesitates in the doorway, then sits beside me. I feel his body's warmth before his fingers gently brushing a strand of hair from my face. His touch is soft, careful.
“Melanie? What’s wrong? Did you talk to your mom?”
I don’t lift my head, but I force the words out anyway. “Yeah. She stopped by… after her little rendezvous with Richard.”
His body stiffens beside me. He’s waiting. Waiting for the part that makes sense.
“And?”
I lift my head just enough to meet his gaze. “They’re leaving. First thing in the morning. She’s going back to California with him.”
Nick flinches like I just punched him. “What? Are you fuckingkidding me? After everything—after what he did—she’s just going back with that damn criminal?”
I swallow the lump in my throat. “I told her I made it all up. That I lied.”
Silence. His head shakes, slow at first, then harder. His eyes close like he’s trying to contain the storm inside him.
“You lied about the truth?” His voice is sharp now, cutting through the air like a blade.
I force myself to keep my voice steady. “If I have to hurt to see my mom happy, then so be it. I’ve never seen her this broken, Nick.”
“Melanie, no.” He turns to face me fully, desperation creeping into his tone. “You need to tell her the truth. Tell her you were lying about the lie. Press charges. Don’t let that son of a bitch walk away from this.”
I shake my head. “It’s better this way. Trust me.”
“No, it’s not!” His voice rises with frustration. “He shouldn’t get away with this!”
I snap my head up to meet his gaze, my own eyes burning. “Don’t you get it?” My voice trembles, but there’s steel beneath it. “He already has.”
I push off the bed and make my way toward the stairs, the weight in my chest suffocating. I just need air. Space. An escape.
“Melanie, wait—” Nick grabs my arm and spins me back around to face him. His grip isn’t rough, but it’s firm, grounding. His eyes plead with me. “You have to fight. You can’t just let him win.”
I exhale slowly, the exhaustion in my bones heavier than ever. “I’m tired, Nick. Mentally. Physically. I just… I need to breathe. I’m gonna take the motorcycle out for a spin. Clear my head. If that’s okay with you.”
His expression flickers with something unreadable before he pulls me into his arms. The warmth of him seeps into me, but it’s not enough to chase away the cold inside. “Of course. Just… think about what you’re doing. Please.”
`“Okay.” It’s a lie. A soft one, but a lie all the same.
I pull away, stepping back toward the stairs. “Feed Loco for me?”
Nick nods, his eyes searching mine like he’s looking for something—some sign that I’m still fighting, still hanging on.
I don’t have the heart to tell him I don’t know if I am strong enough. Strong enough to get through this without numbing the pain with alcohol. Without another word, I jog down the stairs, the need to be anywhere but here clawing at my chest.
I just need to be alone.
I’d been driving aimlessly for almost an hour now, no destination in mind, no real purpose. Just the open road and the weight of my own thoughts pressing down on me. I’d passed Abigail’s lake house more than once, debating whether I should stop. I needed to be a better friend to her. And if I was being honest with myself, I just needed a friend—someone to talk to, someone to remind me I wasn’t alone in all of this. A wave of dizziness washed over me, making my vision blur for a moment. That was my cue. I pulled into a gas station, grabbed a bottle of water, and checked my blood sugar. Passing out on a motorcycle wasn’t exactly on my to-do list today.
Ten minutes later, I was feeling better—hydrated, steady. As I stepped outside, I heard a couple of catcalls from across the parking lot. Without missing a beat, I flipped them the bird, rolling my eyes as I swung my leg over my bike. But just as I was about to pull out of the lot, something- or rather, someone—caught my eye.
A little girl.
