Chapter 46 Melanie
MELANIE
When we walked back inside, Loco trailing beside me, the house felt eerily quiet. My mom and Richard were gone. I turned to Nick, my chest tightening. “Did my mom say anything to you before you came to find me?”
He shook his head, jaw clenched. “No. Richard just insisted they talk privately. I’m sure he’s filling her head with more bullshit.”
I let out a hollow laugh, nodding slowly. “Of course. Just when I think she might actually put me first for once…” I trailed off, swallowing hard. “Guess some things never change.”
Nick’s eyes softened. “Mel—”
A sharp ding cut through the silence. My phone vibrated against the kitchen counter where I’d left it. I walked over and picked it up.
I went to the hotel to have a chat with your dad. I’ll call you when I’m done. He said he could get me a room here too, to give you all back your space. I told him that’s fine.
I stared at the message, something cold settling in my stomach.
Okay. You’re always welcome to stay here. But I understand. Please be careful. And don’t forget to call me.
I set my phone down with a sigh, the weight in my chest pressing heavier.
“Who was that?” Nick asked gently.
I kept my gaze on the counter. “My mom. She went with Richard back to his hotel to talk.”
Loco nudged my leg with his paw, his little way of reminding me he was there. I scooped him into my arms, holding him tight against my chest. Nick stepped closer, his presence grounding me. “Are you hungry? Have you checked your blood sugar?”
I sighed, still holding Loco like a lifeline. “No, I’m not.”
“Mel,” he said, voice laced with concern. “Please, let me make you something. I think we both need a distraction, and I’d feel a hell of a lot better if you checked your blood sugar.”
I rolled my eyes, setting Loco back down. “I’m fine.”
As I turned to walk past him, he caught my arm. “Mel.”
There was something in his voice that made me stop. Something warm. Steady. He didn’t say anything else—just pulled me into him, his arms wrapping around me.
And just like that, the fight drained out of me.
I squeezed my eyes shut, pressing my face into his chest. “I hate this,” I whispered. “I hate feeling like I’m not enough for her.”
Nick’s grip tightened. “You are enough. She just doesn’t see it. But I do.”
His words hit me like a punch to the chest. I swallowed hard. “I don’t know what’s going to happen, or what my mom’s going to decide, but…” My voice cracked. “I’m so fucking tired, Nick. I’m tired of feeling like I have to fight for every ounce of love I get.”
Nick cupped the back of my head, pressing a kiss to my hair. “You don’t have to fight for mine.”
That was it. That was the moment the last bit of resistance in me crumbled. I leaned into him, clinging to his shirt like he was the only thing keeping me from falling apart.
His hand rubbed slow circles on my back, grounding me. “I don’t care what happens with them,” he murmured. “You have me. You’re not alone anymore.”
I tilted my head up, searching his face. His gaze was steady, unwavering. And real.
I swallowed. “Make me forget, Nick.”
A flicker of something dark passed through his eyes. “Mel—”
“I mean it,” I whispered, gripping the front of his shirt. “This morning sucked. This whole fucking day sucked. And I don’t want to think about it anymore.” I dragged my fingers down his chest, my voice dropping lower. “I want you.”
His expression shifted, his jaw ticking. “Are you sure?”
I nodded, lips parting. “I need you, Nick.”
That was all it took.
He crashed his lips onto mine, his hands gripping my waist as he backed me against the counter.
My fingers tangled in his hair, my body pressing against his, desperate for more.
When he lifted me onto the counter, I wrapped my legs around him, gasping as he pressed into me.
Breathless, I muttered against his lips, “Bed?”
His voice was rough. “I can’t wait that long.”
A thrill shot through me as he yanked my flimsy pants and panties off. His gaze locked onto me, dark and ravenous.
“So fucking perfect,” he murmured. “Always so wet for me.”
He dragged a single finger through my slick heat, then lifted it to his mouth, tasting me. His eyes darkened. “You taste so damn good.”
My breath hitched. The way he looked at me—like he owned me—sent a shiver down my spine.
I smirked. “Are you gonna just stare at it all day, or fuck me?”
His gaze snapped to mine, a wicked grin curling his lips. “Just for that, you get no mercy.”
His sweatpants hit the floor, his cock springing free, thick and pulsing. My mouth watered at the sight—at how hard he was for me.
Then, without warning, he slammed into me, and I gasped, gripping his shoulders. I spread my legs wider, adjusting to his size as pleasure pulsed through me.
Nick moved with raw intensity, his grip on me unyielding. His hands caught my wrists, pinning them above my head as he thrust into me with punishing force.
Each snap of his hips sent sparks through my veins, the friction unbearable, intoxicating. His hand slipped between us, rubbing tight circles against my clit.
“Say it,” he growled, voice thick with need.
I moaned, arching into him. “Fuck, that feels so good.”
“Who makes you feel good, princess?”
I gasped, my back arching. “Don’t stop. Don’t stop.”
Nick’s jaw clenched, sweat dripping down his temple as he fucked me harder, deeper.
“You’re mine,” he growled. “Say my name when you come on this cock.”
I was unraveling, the pressure building fast, my body strung so tight I thought I’d break.
“I’m so close,” I gasped.
“Say it,” he demanded. “Tell everyone who this belongs to, princess.”
His fingers moved faster, his thrusts hitting deeper, and then—everything shattered.
I screamed his name, my body convulsing as I came undone around him. He groaned, his rhythm faltering as he followed, spilling into me with a guttural growl.
For a long moment, neither of us moved. My limbs were heavy, my breathing uneven.
Nick brushed damp hair from my face, his touch surprisingly soft. “I’ve got you, Mel.”
I let out a shaky breath. “Promise?”
He cupped my face, forcing me to meet his gaze. “I swear on everything.”
And for the first time, I actually believed him.
It’s been hours. Hours of silence, of waiting, of my mind playing cruel tricks on me.
I thought reading would help distract me, but I’ve read the same page at least ten times, and not a single word has stuck.
Nick had left earlier to go shooting with some friends—Alexa included.
I never knew he did that, but he said it was a good way to blow off steam, almost like therapy.
At first, he thought it would trigger his PTSD, but instead, it gave him control, a way to channel everything boiling under the surface.
I had stayed behind, just in case my mom called or showed up.
But now, sitting here drowning in my thoughts, I wish I had gone with him.
With a frustrated sigh, I toss my Kindle onto the nightstand and sprawl out on the bed, staring up at the ceiling.
My mind won’t stop. The past few months play on a loop, every fight, every secret, every moment of doubt.
Some days, I think Nick and I have something real.
Other days, I remind myself that this has an expiration date.
And when that day comes? What then? Go back home and face my mother, who now knows everything. Pretend none of this ever happened?
A sharp knock at the door pulls me from my thoughts. My body feels heavy as I drag myself off the bed and down the stairs. When I open the door, my mother is standing there in the same clothes she had on this morning, her face pale and drawn.
“Mom, how d—”
She doesn’t say a word. She pushes past me and rushes to the bathroom.
A second later, I hear the unmistakable sound of her throwing up.
I close the door and head into the kitchen, grabbing a glass of water while Loco trails behind me, his tail low.
The toilet flushes—once, twice—before she finally emerges.
She looks exhausted as she lowers herself onto the couch beside me.
Wordlessly, I hand her the water. She takes it, but her fingers tremble as she grips the glass.
“I think it’s easier to believe the things you need,” she says quietly, her voice raw.
“Instead of the things you want. And I need Richard.”
The words are a dagger to my chest, sharp and unrelenting.
She lets out a heavy breath, shaking her head.
“I keep trying to make sense of it all. Trying to find a plot hole in this nightmare, something that makes me believe you more than him. But when I look back, when I think about all the years, all the memories—all I see is how much he loved you. Loved me. How can that be a lie?”
I stare down at my hands, my nails chipped, my fingers twisting together.
“When I looked at our family photos, when I thought back on everything he gave us, all I ever felt was gratitude. We had everything. A beautiful home. Stability. A man who provided for us, who cared for us…” She shakes her head again, as if trying to force the thoughts away.
I never wanted those things. I just wanted my mom back.
She sets the glass down on the coffee table, then turns toward me, taking my hands in hers. Her touch is warm but fragile, like she’s holding onto me just to stay upright.
“I just want you to know,” she whispers, her voice breaking. “I believe you. And none of this—” Her eyes squeeze shut, and when she opens them again, they’re glistening. “None of this is your fault, sweetie.”
Tears spill down her cheeks. I’ve never seen my mother so broken.
A lump rises in my throat, thick and unbearable. And then, I do the only thing I can think of to pull her back from the edge.
I lie. Pretend.
“Mom, stop,” I say, forcing a small laugh. “You’re making me feel bad.”
She sniffles, wiping at her face. “No, I should feel bad. Not you.”
I inhale sharply and push forward, even as it makes me sick to do so. “I made it up,” I say, forcing the words out before I lose my nerve. “I just said all that to see if you would believe me.”
She blinks at me, stunned. “ I-I’m sorry, what?”
I shrug, trying to make it look casual, even as my heart pounds in my chest. “Nick’s mom believed me. Nick believed me. Even people I barely know believed me. I just wanted to see if you would too.”
Her face goes blank. “No. No, you wouldn’t—” She takes a shaky step back. “I know you wouldn’t lie about something like that.”
I swallow the bile rising in my throat. “Richard says I don’t know the difference between a lie and the truth anymore, so… maybe I don’t.”
“Melanie,” she breathes, her eyes searching mine like she’s seeing a stranger.
“You guys took college away from me. You took my credit cards, my independence. I figured, what do I have left to lose? I just wanted to get back at you. I took it too far, and I’m sorry.”
She covers her mouth, and I can see the devastation in her eyes. She believes me.
She actually believes the lie.
“You can be mad,” I say, my voice hollow. “Tell Richard I’m sorry. I’m sure he’s mad.”
She shakes her head. “He’s not even upset. He wants to help. He’s willing to put you back in college, or read, to do whatever you need.”
Of course, he is.
Slowly, she turns toward the door. “I’m going to need some time to process this.”
She doesn’t say goodbye. She just walks down the porch steps, gets into her car, and drives away. And the moment she’s gone, I shatter into a million pieces.