Chapter 33 Melanie
MELANIE
Inever realized how therapeutic shopping could actually be—until now.
Back in L.A., I did it constantly, numbing myself with designer bags and overpriced heels.
It was all noise—empty, hollow noise that never lasted more than a few hours.
But today? Today it felt like a goddamn high.
The kind that made me forget how tangled my life had become.
Two months without the rush, without the freedom to just spend and not think—and now, I felt alive.
Like I’d slipped into a version of myself I thought I’d buried.
I couldn’t remember much about last night—just the warm weight of Nick’s arms around me, and the cold emptiness of the couch when I woke up.
He was gone. Again. Hiding behind that silent distance he’s mastered.
Maybe it’s for the best. We were getting reckless, losing the thread of what this is supposed to be.
A fake marriage. That’s all this is. Was.
We both knew the rules. And maybe I should be thanking him for disappearing this morning instead of playing husband—no kisses on the forehead, no lingering touches or soft morning light moments.
Because if he had stayed, if we had laid tangled in bed all morning after I poured my soul into his chest last night, I wouldn’t be able to pretend anymore.
It would’ve felt too real. Too raw. Too intimate.
And intimacy? That’s dangerous.
At least, that’s what I keep telling myself.
Because this—us—it could never survive in the real world. We’re a time bomb. And when the lust fades, all that’ll be left are two broken people with matching scars and no idea how to love without bleeding.
I was halfway to my car, arms heavy with shopping bags, when my phone buzzed. I fished it out of my purse and froze.
Come home. Now.
Home? His home, not mine. Right.
Or did he mean our home? Did he miss me? Did he want me—really want me—the way he touches me like I’m the only thing anchoring him to the world?
The thought of him sliding into me, of the way he whispers my name like a promise, had my thighs clenching and my breath catching. He makes sex feel like a drug—one I’m not sure I’ll ever recover from.
Nick is a beautiful, dangerous addiction I never saw coming. Nick Consele is everything I never knew I needed.
But the high didn’t last.
The second I pulled into the driveway, my stomach twisted. A strange car was parked behind Nick’s truck. Cold dread snuffed out my butterflies. My pulse stuttered as I parked the bike on the far side, grabbed my bags, and forced myself up the steps.
And then—impact.
The moment I stepped inside, it felt like the floor vanished beneath me. The bags slipped from my hands and hit the ground with a thud I barely registered. All the air sucked out of my lungs.
Staring back at me were the same storm-blue eyes I saw in the mirror every day.
“Mom,” I choked out, voice barely a whisper.
Nick sat across the room, rigid, lips drawn in a hard, silent line.
And just like that, everything inside me split wide open. “What a wonderful surprise,” I say, plastering on my fakest smile.
“There you are, it’s so good to see you, baby.” She places her coffee mug on the coffee table and greets me with open arms. My eyes are met with green daggers as I hugged her.
“What are you doing here? Actually, how did you know where I lived?”
“I asked Abigail. When I went to the address you gave me months ago, she said you’d moved.
” My mother’s voice was sharp, clipped, like each word was a slap.
“And what do you mean, what am I doing here? I came to see my daughter. I didn’t see you at Thanksgiving, and I wasn’t about to let Christmas slip by, either.
Richard and I are going to Turks and Caicos for the holidays—it’s my gift, since he actually listens to what I want.
” She shivered dramatically, rubbing her arms. “God, it’s freezing out here. Honestly, Melanie.”
“Right,” I said, the word dragging like gravel in my throat. “So I see you met Nick.”
His eyes snapped to mine—sharp, accusing, unreadable.
Liar. Traitor. Coward.
“Yes, and I’d love for you both to tell me what the hell is going on,” she snapped, gesturing toward him. “This man—”
Nick didn’t let her finish. His voice cut through the tension like a blade.
“Yeah, Melanie. Your mom’s having a great time realizing she’s been completely in the dark about our marriage. Real cozy silence going on in here.”
His jaw flexed, and I knew—he was furious. Pushed past the edge.
“Mom, I was going to call. Things just… got busy.” The excuse tumbled out of me like a weak defense. I hated how hollow it sounded.
“Busy? Getting married slipped your mind?” she said, crossing her arms like a judge ready to sentence.
“We’re planning a real ceremony soon. I—”
“No.” Her voice cracked like a whip. “You’re not marrying this man.”
My chest tightened. “Mom… we are married.”
“It’s been under six months. You can still get it annulled.” She started up the stairs like the conversation was over. “I’ll call my lawyer from the car. We’ll talk on the way back to my hotel.”
My hand shot out before I could stop myself, grabbing her arm and yanking her back down.
“I’m not going anywhere. You said you came to visit, not drag me back like a runaway teen.”
She sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose like I was giving her a migraine. “What part of ‘annulment’ don’t you understand? Your father and I agreed—maybe sending you away was harsh. We just want you back home. Where it’s safe.”
Her eyes flicked toward Nick—disdain curling her lips—then landed back on me. “Not living like… this.”
“No.”
“What do you mean, no?” Her voice rose, incredulous, like I’d just told her the sky was green.
“I mean, I’m not leaving. What part of married do you not get?”
“Melanie, why do you always have to be so damn difficult? I thought you came out here to better yourself, not…” Her gaze dragged over Nick like he was something sticky on the bottom of her shoe.
He was wearing a short-sleeved t-shirt revealing his many tattoos with grey sweat pants.
As casual as he looked, he still looked beautiful.
“Not ruin your life.”
Nick’s voice cut in, low and dangerous. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“It means my daughter isn’t throwing away her future on some low-rent fantasy. Was this supposed to be an acting gig? Look around, Melanie!” She waved a perfectly manicured hand at the small, cozy space. “You expect me to believe this is the life you want? And him?”
“It’s a tiny house,” Nick said through clenched teeth, hands fisting at his sides.
“Mom, please. Just slow down—this is a lot, I get it, but no one is getting an annulment.”
She stared at me like she didn’t recognize me. “Did I teach you nothing? This man has nothing to offer you.”
Nick stood, stepping forward, and I saw the muscles in his neck tense. “At least I’m not a fucking—”
“Okay!” I shoved a hand against his chest, stopping him before it escalated. “Just… stop.”
I turned back to her, my throat thick with shame and fury. Nick was proud of what he built. And it would never be good enough for her. Not because of what he lacked, but because of who he wasn’t.
“Money doesn’t fix everything,” Nick growled.
My mother scoffed like he’d told a bad joke. “That’s what broke people say. Try having money and see how miserable you are.”
“You have it,” Nick spat. “And you’re still a raging bi—”
“That’s enough!” I cut in, louder this time. My pulse was racing, head pounding like a drum. “Both of you.”
My mother straightened, ice in her voice. “Melanie. I need to speak to you. Alone.”
Nick didn’t flinch. “Anything you’ve got to say, you can say in front of me. I’m her husband.”
“And I’m her mother,” she snapped, her tone venomous. “I want a word. Alone.”
“She’s twenty-one,” Nick bit out. “Not twelve. She can make her own damn choices.”
I touched his arm gently. “Nick, it’s fine. Just… give us a minute.”
His gaze snapped to mine, searching, pleading. “Please. I’ll be fine,” I whispered.
He hesitated, then turned toward the door. “Don’t take too long.”
“You won’t get privacy in here,” my mother added coldly, scanning the one-room layout with a sneer. “You always hated not having your own space.”
“Mom,” I said, already weary. “We’ll talk outside.”
“No, I'll go. I could use a cigarette.”Nick says.
You smoke?” my mother recoiled like he’d just confessed to murder. “And you kiss him after?”
Nick paused in the doorway. A wicked smile curled on his lips. “She kisses me after I make her come with this mouth too.”My mom gasped, placing a hand on her chest.
Someone just shoot me. Shoot me now.
Once Nick was outside and far enough to where he couldn’t hear my mom and I talk, she walked towards me. “Can we go upstairs? I feel like that.” She waves a hand in his direction, “will eavesdrop. Lord knows he’s out for your money.”
I tipped my head back and closed my eyes. “His name is Nick,” I say with a sigh.
“I don’t care what his name is. He’s trash.”
I start walking up the stairs. The sooner she says what she needs to the sooner this will be over with.
“Okay what mom? What is it? You do realize this has been the longest I have ever gone without drinking or doing drugs right?”
“That’s wonderful sweetie and I’m so proud of you,” She grabs my hands in hers, squeezing. The small gesture takes me back to when mom was, a mom and it was just me and her against the world.
“Then I’m not leaving. Going back to L.A. is the last thing I want to do. All my friends are bad influences and, I-” I dipped my chin to my chest.
“I’m starting to like it here. This place is growing on me. Plus Nick cares about me, like really cares about me.”
“Honey, that’s great but you’ve always rushed into things. I’m still trying to grasp that you got married on a whim. Is there something you’re not telling me.”