Chapter 6 #2
I spend the next fifteen minutes tidying up and trying to figure out how to explain this situation to my daughter.
Melody emerges from the bedroom wearing jeans and a borrowed sweater that's too big for her, her hair pulled back in a puffy ponytail.
She looks younger, more vulnerable, and my protective instincts surge.
"She's going to hate me," Melody says, perching on the arm of the sofa. "Her best friend sleeping with her dad. It's like a bad Lifetime movie."
"Sage doesn't hate easily," I assure her, though I share her concern. "And she cares about you. We'll figure it out."
The sound of tires on gravel announces Sage's arrival. I give Melody's hand a reassuring squeeze before opening the door. Sage bounds up the steps, a manila folder tucked under her arm and a worried expression on her face.
"Hey, Dad." She kisses my cheek before brushing past me into the cabin. Her steps falter slightly when she spots Melody. "Mel! Thank God. I've been so worried."
Melody stands, awkward and uncertain. "Sorry about my phone. I forgot to charge it."
Sage waves away the apology, pulling her friend into a hug. "No worries. I'm just glad you're safe." She steps back, looking between us with a slight furrow in her brow. "Is everything okay? You both seem weird."
I clear my throat. "Why don't we sit down? You mentioned news about Jason?"
"Right." Sage moves to the dining table, spreading out papers from her folder. "So I have a friend who works at the courthouse in Toronto. She did some digging for me."
Melody and I sit across from her, carefully maintaining a respectable distance between us. Sage is too focused on her documents to notice.
"Turns out Jason's family is in serious financial trouble," Sage continues.
"His father's investment firm is under investigation for fraud, and they've been quietly liquidating assets.
The man that's been asking about you? He’s a PI.
He works exclusively for one law firm in Toronto, specializing in asset recovery. "
Melody frowns. "We knew the PI part. But I don't understand. I don't have anything of Jason's."
"The engagement ring," Sage says triumphantly. "The massive diamond that supposedly belonged to his grandmother? Apparently, it's worth close to a hundred thousand dollars, and his family is desperate to get it back."
"But I returned it when I left him," Melody protests. "I left it on the kitchen counter with a note."
Sage shakes her head. "According to my friend, the Mills family filed an insurance claim saying you stole it. They're trying to collect the insurance money while also getting the ring back."
My jaw tightens. "Insurance fraud."
"Exactly." Sage nods. "The PI isn't here because Jason is stalking you, Mel. He's here because the Mills family is trying to find evidence that you have the ring."
Relief washes over Melody's face. "So, Jason isn't coming after me?"
"Doesn't look like it." Sage reaches across the table to squeeze her hand. "My friend is gathering documentation to prove the insurance claim is fraudulent. Once we have that, we can make the PI back off permanently."
"Thank you," Melody says, tears gathering in her eyes. "I can't believe you did all this for me."
"That's what friends are for." Sage smiles, then narrows her eyes, looking between us again. "Now, are you two going to tell me what's really going on here? Because something definitely is."
Melody freezes beside me. I take a deep breath, meeting my daughter's suspicious gaze. "Melody and I have become... involved."
Sage's eyebrows shoot up. "Involved? Like, romantically?"
"Yes," I confirm, keeping my voice steady. "It's new, obviously, and we're still figuring things out ourselves."
Melody reaches for my hand under the table, her fingers trembling slightly. I give her a reassuring squeeze.
"Wow." Sage sits back in her chair, processing. "I mean... wow. My best friend and my dad." She runs a hand through her hair. "That's... unexpected."
"I'm so sorry, Sage," Melody blurts out. "It just happened, and I never meant to complicate things or make you uncomfortable or betray your trust?—"
Sage holds up a hand, cutting off the flood of words. "Breathe, Mel." She looks at me. "Dad, are you serious about this? Because Melody's been through enough with Jason, and I'm not about to watch her get hurt again, even by you."
"I'm very serious," I say quietly. "More than I expected to be."
Sage studies my face, then turns to Melody. "And you? Are you sure about this? He's ancient, obviously, and I love him, but he's got baggage. Plus, you know, he's my dad, which is kind of weird."
Melody nods. "I'm sure. At least, I'm sure I want to see where this goes. He makes me feel safe, Sage. And seen. And..." She glances at me, a soft smile playing at her lips. "Happy."
Something in Sage's expression softens. "Well, that's... that's actually really nice to hear." She sighs dramatically. "I guess if my best friend had to hook up with an older man, at least I know this one's decent."
Relief floods through me. "So, you're not angry?"
"I'm processing," Sage clarifies. "It's going to take some getting used to. But I’m not angry. No." She points a finger at me. "But if you hurt her, Dad, blood relation won't save you."
"Understood," I say, fighting a smile at my daughter's fierce protectiveness.
"And you," she turns to Melody, "no details. Ever. I do not need to know anything about your sex life with my father."
Melody blushes. "Agreed."
Sage gathers her papers, shaking her head. "I can't believe this is my life now. My best friend is dating my dad." She stands, tucking the folder under her arm. "I'm going to head back to town and call my court contact. You two... carry on, I guess. Just maybe not while I'm thinking about it."
I walk her to the door, grateful for her unexpected acceptance. "Thank you," I say quietly. "For understanding."
She gives me a searching look. "Are you happy, Dad? Really happy?"
I glance back at Melody, who's pretending not to eavesdrop from the table. "Yeah, sweetheart. I am."
"Then I'm happy for you." She rises on her toes to kiss my cheek. "Just remember, she's my friend. And she still has a lot of life to figure out."
"I know." The age difference weighs on me more than I let on. "We're taking it day by day."
Sage nods, satisfied. "I'll call later with updates."
After she leaves, I turn back to find Melody watching me, her expression somewhere between relief and lingering anxiety.
"That went better than expected," I say, moving to join her at the table.
"Much better." She lets out a long breath. "I thought she might hate me."
"Sage is remarkably adaptable." I take her hand, running my thumb across her knuckles. "It's one of her best qualities."
"She gets that from you," Melody observes. "The way you just... take things in stride. Adjust. Move forward."
I consider this. "Military training helps with that. You learn to work with changing conditions rather than fighting against them."
"Tell me about your time in the service," she requests, settling more comfortably in her chair. "You never talk about it."
I hesitate, then decide to share a part of myself I rarely discuss. "Well, you know I was in the Special Forces. Did twelve years. Three deployments. Not all of it is classified, but enough that I don't discuss details often."
"Is that where the scars come from?" she asks softly, her fingers ghosting over a particularly vivid one on my forearm.
"Most of them." I don't pull away from her touch. "IED on my second tour. Lost two men from my unit that day."
Her hand covers mine. "I'm sorry."
"Long time ago." I turn my hand to lace our fingers together. "What about you? Any scars I should know about?"
"Nothing so dramatic." She smiles wryly. "Though I do have a scar on my knee from falling out of a tree when I was ten. I was trying to rescue a cat."
"Did you save it?"
"The cat was fine. Just didn't want to be rescued." She laughs. "I had to get twelve stitches and still have a scar shaped like Florida."
"I'd like to see that sometime," I say, enjoying the way her eyes crinkle when she laughs.
"Play your cards right, and you can see all of me." She winks, then grows more serious. "Thank you for sharing about your military service. I know that's not easy."
I shrug, uncomfortable with gratitude for simple honesty. "It's part of who I am. If we're doing this, you should know all of me. Even the difficult parts."
"I want to." She squeezes my hand. "All of you, difficult parts included."
The sincerity in her voice warms my heart. How long has it been since someone wanted to know me, not just the carefully constructed persona I present to the world?
"Come here," I say, tugging her onto my lap. She comes willingly, settling against my chest. I breathe in the scent of her hair, allowing myself this moment of contentment.
"What now?" she asks, her head resting on my shoulder.
"Now we have the rest of the day to ourselves." I press a kiss to her temple. "What would you like to do?"
She considers this. "I'd like to just be with you. Nothing fancy. Maybe take a walk in the woods if the rain stops? Read books by the fire? Cook dinner together?"
"Sounds perfect." I tighten my arms around her, marveling at how simple her desires are. No games, no complications, just genuine connection.
The rain has indeed stopped, sunlight now filtering through the thinning clouds.
We spend the afternoon exactly as she suggested, walking the forest trails around the cabin, hand in hand, talking about everything and nothing.
Our footsteps crunch through fallen leaves in shades of amber and rust. I show her the wild raspberry bushes where I gather fruit each summer, the creek that runs ice-cold even in August, the rocky outcropping with a view of the valley below.
Back at the cabin, we build a fire and settle on the couch with books, her legs draped across my lap as we read in comfortable silence. Later, we cook dinner together, moving around the kitchen with an ease that belies how new this relationship is.
It's the most peaceful day I've had in years. Maybe decades.
As evening falls, we sit on the porch watching the sunset paint the mountains in shades of gold and pink. Melody leans against me, my arm around her shoulders.
"I could get used to this," she says softly.
"Me too." The admission comes easier than I expected.
"But school starts next week," she continues. "And people will talk. I’ll need to..."
I press a finger to her lips. "One day at a time, remember? We'll figure it all out."
She kisses my finger before gently moving it away. "Promise?"
"Promise." I turn her face to mine, kissing her slowly, savoring the sweetness of her mouth and the warmth of her body against mine.
Inside, my phone buzzes with an incoming message, but I ignore it. Whatever crisis awaits can wait until tomorrow. Tonight is just for us, this fragile, unexpected happiness we've found in each other's arms.