Not going there. “You’d better get across the hall. Mariska is pretty persistent from what I understand.”
She nods and takes off. Finally, I’m alone.
Holding my phone, I stare at Melissa’s face on my screen. She’s so beautiful, sitting on the beach, the wind wrapping one of her perfect waves around her neck. My body physically aches for her. I need to bury my face in her ocean-roses scent and tell her I love her.
Patrick said not to call. He said he has his eye on her, give her space, give her time. None of that matters. I have to hear her voice. Touching the number, I wait as it rings in my ear.
It rings and rings. I’ve almost given up when the call connects.
“Hello?” Her voice is so soft. I can tell she’s been crying, and it rips through my chest. I want to hold her.
“Melissa.” I exhale her name. “Baby, please talk to me.”
Silence first, a few moments where I only hear her shaky breathing, then she clears her throat. I know her so well. She’s building that wall against me. I can’t let her do it.
“What do you need?”
“I need you.”
Silence again. The sound of brushing covers her phone, and I wonder if she covered it with her hand. When she comes back, the slightest tremor is in her voice.
“If you need something, please tell me. Otherwise, I’ll have to block your calls.”
“Don’t do that. Just hang on.” I think fast, hoping to derail that notion. “I need to know about Dex’s party. What time and where.”
Another deep breath in my ear. It tightens the knot in my chest. She’s so close but still so far. What will it take to get her to listen to me again?
“I didn’t realize you were coming.”
“Melissa.” My voice is low. “It’s his first birthday.”
“I thought you’d see him another time. Later in the day, I mean. At Mom’s.”
I’m not invited to his party? This is fucking getting worse and worse. And it hurts like hell. “I’d like to be there. If that’s okay?”
She’s quiet again. We were just in bed together less than two days ago. I know this is killing her, too. She can’t turn on me that fast.
“I’ll talk to Mom.” Her voice is quiet. “We can have the party at her house.”
“Okay.” I’m keeping my tone gentle, like I’m approaching a wounded animal. “Do you know what time?”
“Dex naps at three...” her voice breaks off, and I can hear her losing the battle against her tears. I’m on the verge of losing my battle with all of this. A sharp breath, and she’s back in control. “I’ll text you after I’ve talked to Mom. I need to go now.”
Not so fast. “If you can, give me some lead-time. I drove Star to Princeton so she can stay here. Hide out until we know who’s blackmailing her. It was Patrick’s idea, but it’s a good one. Stuart can watch over her, and Walt guards the door. You know the setup.”
She makes a noise, and I go for it.
“I’m telling you everything, Mel. Full disclosure. Whatever you want to know.” I wait, but I only hear the soft sound of her breath. She’s got to be thinking the same thing as me: This is so wrong. “I love you, baby. I miss you so much.”
I’ve gone too far. A whispered, “I’ll text you,” and the line disconnects.
Setting my phone on my dresser, I clutch my forehead. I’ve trained for torture, prolonged periods without sleep, food, or drink. I’ve gone days staring at the desert sand until I thought I’d go blind. I’ve been in combat, injured... Nothing compares to this.
Turning, I go to the kitchen and reach over the stove. My supply of alcohol is relatively untouched. Melissa prefers wine, and nobody’s been here for months. I pull down the Johnnie Walker and a tall glass. My front door opens just as I’ve taken the first sip, and I hear Stuart’s voice.
“Hey, man. Looks like Mariska’s found a new friend.” He rounds the corner, and stops in his tracks when he sees me. “What happened?”
Taking another long drink, I stare at the amber liquid and just say it. “Melissa kicked me out.”