Chapter 47 Melanie
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 fucking kidding 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.
She was sitting on a rusted swing set in front of a run-down apartment complex, her blonde hair whipping in the wind. She looked so much like Faye.
My heart clenched.
I turned my bike around, pulling up right in front of the swings. As I hopped off, placing my helmet on the seat, she barely acknowledged me, staring down at the gravel beneath her feet, nudging it softly with her shoe every time she swung forward.
I didn’t want to startle her, so I kept my voice gentle.
“Hey, Faye.”
Her head snapped up, her pale blue eyes locking onto mine, full of something I couldn’t quite name. Hope? Fear?
She frowned. “Hey.” Her voice was small, defeated.
“What are you doing out here all by yourself?”
She hesitated before answering. “Waiting for my mommy to come back.”
Something cold settled in my stomach.
“You are?” I crouched down a little to meet her eyes. “Where did she go?”
Faye shifted slightly on the swing, gripping the chains a little tighter. “She said she was going to the gas station to get something and told me to wait here until she got back.”
I swallowed hard. My mind raced back to the gas station. I’d been inside for a while—used the bathroom, grabbed a drink. The only people there were an older lady and a couple of guys fueling up their trucks. No woman who could’ve been Faye’s mom.
“How long ago was that?” I asked, keeping my voice light and careful.
Faye shrugged. “I don’t know. We came out here to play after breakfast, and then she left.”
My breath caught in my throat. It was almost three in the afternoon.
She had been out here for hours.
I forced down the wave of panic rising in my chest, keeping my voice steady. “So, a long time, huh?”
She nodded, her little legs barely swinging now.
I crouched down beside her. “Faye, how about this—you come with me, we’ll grab something to eat, and then I’ll take you to the lake house. You shouldn’t be out here alone, sweetheart. It’s not safe.”
Her little face hardened, her blue eyes darkening with anger. “No. My mommy said not to leave this swing until she came back.”
Oh God.
I didn’t know what to do. I couldn’t leave her here, but I also couldn’t be the one to tell her that her mother wasn’t coming back.
“You have to be hungry,” I tried again. “How about we just go get something quick, and I promise we’ll come right back?”
“No!” Her voice rose, her hands gripping the chains of the swing even tighter. “I’m not leaving with you. I want my mommy.”
Me too, kid.
Something inside me cracked at those words.
Her voice wavered, her little lips trembling as her fists clenched in her lap. “I just want my mommy,” she whispered, and this time, a tear slid down her cheek.
Another one slid down mine.
I exhaled shakily, pushing down the lump in my throat. “Okay.” I paused, gathering myself. “Would it be okay if I wait with you? Just so you’re not alone?”
Her tiny shoulders relaxed just a little. She hesitated, then nodded.
I forced a small, sad smile before lowering myself onto the swing beside her.
We didn’t say anything after that. Just sat there, slowly swinging, staring off at the empty road ahead.
And I prayed—God, I prayed—that I was wrong. That any second now, Faye’s mother would come running back, full of apologies, full of love.
Because if she didn’t…
This little girl’s world would never be the same again, just like mine was all those years ago.