Chapter 31 Melanie
MELANIE
Icouldn’t stomach the thought of the pasta going to waste—hours spent on sauce and spices, the garlic still clinging to my fingertips—so I called Abigail and Josh.
Told them to invite whoever they wanted over.
There was plenty of food for everyone. Colt was playing tonight, and it felt right to have everyone together, the house full and buzzing.
The low purr of Abigail’s new Mercedes glided into the driveway like a silent boast, gleaming under the porch light.
Colt had bought it for her birthday, sleek and powerful—nothing like that beat-up thing her parents never lifted a finger to help her with.
Good. She deserved better. And when she stepped out, her belly rounding beneath her coat, my chest swelled with something warm and unspoken.
“Oh my gosh, girl. Look at you,” I breathed, pushing open the screen door, the metal creaking under my hand as I stepped onto the porch.
She slammed the door with her hip and called back, “Yup. That’s what I get for having a baby with a football player.”
Josh chimed in as he followed behind, already grinning. “Thank God it’s a girl. If it was a boy, that pussy would get torn up.”
Nora’s purse slapped against his arm with a satisfying thwack. “Language, young man. Don’t talk about my granddaughter like that.”
Josh rubbed his arm, unfazed. “Like what? I didn’t say the baby was a fatso.”
Thwack. Other shoulder.
“Ow!”
I laughed, deep and genuine, the kind that loosens something inside you. Abigail waddled toward me, each step heavy with exhaustion. “You are the cutest pregnant lady ever,” I said, wrapping my arms gently around her, careful not to squeeze too hard.
“Thank you,” she sighed, her breath brushing my neck. “God, I hope she comes before March. I already feel like I’m carrying a watermelon in December.”
“Let’s make her happy and feed her some pasta,” I said, ushering her toward the door.
Abigail groaned dramatically. “The baby? Hell. I’m the one who’s been craving nothing but carbs and sweet and sour pickles wrapped in cheese.”
“Hey beautiful,” Nick’s voice curled around us like smoke, deep and low as he stepped onto the porch. “How’s our little kicker doing?”
“She’s happy as a clam,” Abigail said. “Kicking like she’s training for the Olympics.”
“Glad to hear it,” Nick smiled. “Where’s Bodie?”
“Cliff’s bringing him later. You know him—always on his own damn time.”
Nick nodded, a shared understanding in the dip of his chin.
“There’s my other favorite girl.” Josh scooped me up in a hug that spun me off my feet, the air whooshing from my lungs. I could feel Nick’s eyes on us, his gaze a heat trailing along my skin even after Josh set me down.
“How’s finals?” I asked, smoothing my hair back into place.
“Fucking brutal,” Josh groaned, dragging a hand through his hair. “But I’ll survive.”
“You always do,” I said, smiling up at him.
He tapped his temple. “It’s all up here. This brain’s gonna earn me the big bucks.”
Nick stepped in close, his shoulder brushing mine. He extended a hand. “Good to see you again, man.”
Josh took it, firm grip, the shake holding just a second too long. A silent exchange passed between them—one only men who’ve loved the same woman would recognize.
“Are you brutes going to help an old lady with these pans or just stand there flexing?” Nora’s voice snapped the tension like a rubber band.
Nick and Josh scrambled down the steps, each grabbing one of the heavy casserole dishes she’d stacked in her trunk.
“Nora, you didn’t have to bring anything,” I said, stepping aside to let her pass.
“My grandbaby’s in there,” she huffed, pointing to Abigail’s belly. “And that baby’s going to come out fat and happy. Besides, this girl’s been eating like she grew up in the South, and I am here for it. I brought veggie casserole, dessert, and cookies in the car. You’re welcome.”
Laughter rippled through us, a shared joy lifting the room as we all filed inside.
Later, with bellies full and the house rich with the scent of pasta, spice, and warm bread, we huddled around the TV. Colt moved like lightning on the screen, dodging tackles, his jersey stretching over muscle and sweat.
“Go, go, GO!” Abigail shouted, hands in the air, her belly bouncing with the motion.
Bodie turned to little Faye, his eyes wide. “Did you see that? My dad’s the best football player in the whole world. One day, I’ll be big and strong like him.”
Faye nibbled her cookie, crumbs dotting her tiny lips.
I’d offered her milk, tried to make her feel at home, but she missed her mom—I could see it in the way she curled into Nick’s side.
Abigail told me things weren’t good at home, and it showed.
I didn’t mind her being close to him. Nick was her comfort. He was mine, too.
“Even at thirty-one, my brother moves like he’s twenty-two,” Josh marveled.
“He’s like a superhero,” Bodie said, his voice full of pride.
“That’s because he trains like a madman,” Abigail said, stroking her belly with slow circles.
“Killian genes,” Cliff grunted, tipping his beer to his lips.
Nora shot him a look but held her tongue. Bianca snored gently in the rocker, lost to the world. Sophia had bailed before halftime to walk Loco, muttering about burning off dinner.
I tried not to look at the beer in Josh’s hand.
I hadn’t told him not to bring it—it didn’t feel fair—but temptation clawed at my throat.
My blood sugar had spiked earlier and was now dipping.
I’d had to take a shot. My stomach ached.
The insulin always made me feel like I was underwater, everything slower, heavier. And one drink would make it worse.
I didn’t want to ruin tonight.
“Touchdown!” Abigail leapt up at the same time as Josh, their cheer bouncing off the walls.
I smiled at her. “Look at you, Mrs. Football Player Hater gone full fan girl.”
“Oh, shut up,” she said, chomping down on her cookie.
“I never thought I’d live to see this day.”
She glanced sideways, her eyes twinkling. “Right back at you. I could say the same.”
My gaze slid to Nick. He heard it, too. Felt the dig. The frown pulled at the corners of his mouth.
Anyone who knew me knew I would’ve never chosen this—tiny house, modest life, a man who couldn’t offer me diamonds or guarantees. But everything I’d once been offered was just…stuff.
Nick gave me things that money couldn’t touch. And I was just starting to understand what real wealth looked like.
“I’m going to grab some water. Does anyone want one?
” “I’ll take one,” Abigail says, and Nick lifts his right arm without looking at me, his bicep flexing subtly under the light.
My throat goes dry. I grab a bottle from the fridge, the cool blast hitting my flushed skin like a shock.
On impulse, a teasing thought blooms, reckless and bold. I pull out my phone.
Should I sit on your lap, commando?
Nick: Horny?
I hesitate, fingers hovering before replying.
Maybe, but I also feel like we are acting like roommates. How would you act with your real wife in front of your family?
I’m not a huge PDA. But if you want me to be, I can be ;)
The playful wink shouldn’t affect me, but it does. Heat ignites deep in my core, throbbing low between my thighs.
Now bring that fine ass of yours over here and come sit on my lap. So you can feel me getting hard.
A sharp breath escapes me. God. He doesn’t hold back. My body responds before my mind can second-guess. Crossing the room, I feel the weight of his gaze drag over every inch of me like a touch. I hand him his water, fingers brushing his, and then lower myself onto his lap.
His thighs are solid beneath me, and I can feel the press of him exactly where he said I would. My body coils with awareness. A dangerous thrill. I try to focus on the game instead of the way my pulse is hammering.
Colt’s bouncing on his toes, hyped and ready. I turn to Abigail. “What the hell is he doing?”
“Making sure his blood flow is strong.”
“Who would have known Abs knows more about sports than you, Mel.” Josh teases, winking at me.
I stick out my tongue, laughing lightly, the ease between us feeling like a fleeting echo of our college days. Back when things were simpler. Back when I didn’t question what was real.
Colt commands the team, then the play begins. The snap, the toss, a perfect pass. Abigail and Nora cheer beside me, our little group erupting with excitement.
The next play unfolds just as smoothly. Another first down. Abigail is on her feet, electric with energy.
“Yes! Two snaps, two first downs!” she shouts.
Josh lifts his beer. Everyone’s attention stays glued to the screen, cheers lingering in the air like static.
Then—chaos.
Colt drops back, but the defense breaks through like a wall exploding inward. The hit is brutal—helmet off, his body twisting in a way it shouldn’t, crumpling to the turf. It’s silent. Abigail’s hand flies to her mouth.
“Holy shit,” Nick says behind me, tension radiating off him like heat.
“Son of a bitch,” Josh mutters.
My heart stutters. Abigail is already on her feet, moving toward the screen, dread etched across her face.
“No, no, no,” she whispers, voice cracking as panic claws its way through her.
“He’s not getting up,” she says, her voice hollow with terror.
Nora whispers, “Get up, baby,” her eyes glassy, unaware she’s said it aloud.
“Nora, he’s not getting up.”
“Fuck,” Josh says.
On the field, Colt’s teammates start to realize something’s wrong. Players break formation, some kneeling, others rushing to him. The air feels thick, like the world’s holding its breath.
Abigail is trembling. Nora reaches out, touching her gently.
“Honey, I don’t need you upsetting the baby. It’s going to be okay. Just take a deep breath for me, sugar.”
Abigail nods, but she’s barely holding it together. “He’s not moving,” she sobs.
“I know, baby, we’re all watching. But my boy is stronger than those damn horses he has at the ranch.”
Nora eases her to the couch. We all watch in frozen silence as medics surround Colt, stabilize his neck. Abigail’s leg bounces erratically, the tension contagious.
“Colt knows you’re with him. That’s what’s keeping him strong,” Nora whispers.
She sniffles, broken. “He’s still not moving.”
“I know, baby, but I can feel it. He’s okay.”
And then, his knee bends.
Abigail gasps, a sound so raw it rips something open inside me. My throat tightens as Colt raises his arm, signaling he’s conscious. The stadium erupts, wild with relief. Medics helped him to his feet, escorting him to the cart. No stretcher. No paralysis. Just bruised and shaken—but alive.
Abigail’s phone rings and she bolts upright, answering with shaking hands as she rushes outside.
Beside me, Nick’s hand finds my shoulder, grounding me.
“You okay, princess?” His voice is low, concerned.
I turn my head, slowly, letting him see it—just for a second. The ache. The yearning. The part of me that’s unraveling because I don’t know what it’s like to be that afraid to lose someone you love. To have someone who would wreck your world if they disappeared.
His brows knit, head tilting, but I steel myself.
“Yeah,” I lie.
Abigail walks back in, phone clutched to her face. “I’m coming there. I don’t care.”
“Babe, calm down, I’m fine. I’m sure it’s nothing more than a sprained shoulder and maybe a fractured rib.”
“I’m looking at plane tickets now.” Abigail says pacing back and forth holding the phone up to her face.
“Abigail, no I don’t want you getting on a plane by yourself. Not when you are this far along. I’m just waiting for the doctor to check me out, but even if it’s minor, I’m sure I’ll have to go to the hospital to run concussion tests, just normal protocol.”
Nora gets up from the couch and walks up to Abigail, placing an arm around her and rubbing her belly.
“Hey suga. You okay?
“Ya mom, I'll be fine. You know me. Tough as a nail.”
“Mmm hmm. Stubborn as one, too.”
A light chuckle rumbles from the speakers of the phone.
“Don’t you worry about your girls. I’ll keep them safe until you come home.”
“Thanks, Mamma.”
Abigail begins to cry, but she chokes back a sob. “Sorry,” She says, wipping at her nose. “It’s just when you said. Girls. I-I.”
Nick, Josh, Sophia, and I all share a glance. “I never realized you have two girls who love you so much now. Come back home to us girls, baby.”
“You are my home.”
“Hey, don’t forget about me, Bodie,” Bodie chirps. And we all laugh out loud simultaneously.
Abigail turns the phone to face Bodie, who is probably eating his third chocolate chip cookie.
“You all are my world, Bodie Bear.”
Bodie’s grin widens as he takes in his dad, and my heart squeezes, causing me to suffocate with the fact that I’ll never have what Abigail has.
A real family. A real husband. A real love.
This thing with Nick was formed on a fake foundation, and our attraction for one another will eventually die.
It’s surface-based. There’s no roots deep enough, planting us together, and it kills me to know it’s only a matter of time before it all ends.