5-

MELANIE

I wake up to the sound of a male voice, followed by high-pitched giggling coming from the adjoining room.

I sit up abruptly, rubbing my swollen eyes as I suddenly feel nauseous. I press a palm against my forehead, taking a slow breath as I let my eyes scan the room.

It isn't my bedroom.

The space around me is large, luxurious, and so Alexander coded with the... floor-to-ceiling windows, heavy cream curtains, and linoleum floors.

Then I glance down at myself. I’m wearing a pair of silk gray pajamas that I know for a fact I wasn’t wearing last night. I reach up and feel my hair; it’s no longer the tangled mess I fell asleep in, but neatly woven into a braid resting over my shoulder. Even the heavy goose-down duvet had been tucked snug around my waist.

I shake my head. Alexander didn't need to go this far. He shouldn't have.

Swinging my legs over the edge of the oversized bed, I let my bare feet hit the floor. I follow the trail of noise toward the living area, pausing just outside the door frame. I lean against the jamb, watching the scene unfold.

Alex is on his knees, playfully exaggerating his movements as Milan... my tiny two-year-old... totes her feet across the rug, chasing him around the coffee table. He’s letting her think she’s winning, ducking behind cushions and letting out fake gasps while she giggles.

Just as I’m about to step in, Milan’s socked foot catches on the edge of the area rug. Her small body wobbles, and before he can reach her, she slips and hits the floor.

My heart leaps into my throat. I’m inside the room in a heartbeat, dropping to my knees and scooping her up into my arms.

“Mama!” she coos, her little hands clapping onto my cheeks, instantly forgetting the fall as she beams up at me.

I take a breath, inspecting her arms and legs. “You have to be more careful, baby. Are you hurt? Come on, look at Mama... show me where it hurts. Did you bump your knee?”

She just stares at me with wide, dark eyes, blinking.

“She’s not hurt, Mela,” Alex says from above us. He’s standing there in a plain black tee and sweatpants, his hands resting casually on his hips. “And she was completely fine. I had my eyes right on her. I would’ve caught her before anything bad happened.”

“I know, I just...” I let out a slow exhale, nodding as I set her down gently on her feet. I press a kiss to her forehead. “Good morning, baby.”

“Morning, Mama!” she chirps back.

“Did you sleep well?”

She nods.

I give Milan a high five, listening to her little palm smack against mine, before slowly rising to my full height. I look up to meet Alex’s gray eyes.

“Thank you,” I say. “Thank you for making her smile.”

My gaze drifts past his shoulders, catching on a cluster of heavy white designer shopping bags sitting on the kitchen counter, overflowing with produce, snacks, and fresh clothing boxes.

“What are those?” I ask, gesturing toward them.

He turns, glancing behind him at the pile before turning back to face me, folding his arms across his chest. “Supplies. Groceries. Extra clothes for both of you. The works. I figured you’d be staying here for a few days until we figure out your next move.”

Staying here for some days?

The nausea returns. “Alex, thank you... but no,” I say, shaking my head. “I seriously am grateful that you’re offering, and I appreciate everything you did last night, but you know I can’t stay here.”

He tilts his head to the side, his expression unreadable as his dark brows knit together. “I don’t know that.”

I frown, taking a small step closer to him, keeping my voice low so Milan doesn't pick up on the edge in my tone. “Of course you do! Don't play dumb with me, Alexander. I’m married. I have to do what’s best for my daughter and for me. And what do you think will happen if someone spots us? What will people say about me?”

Alex lets out a dry, humorless chuckle, taking a step toward me. “Mela, when have you ever cared what people said about you?”

I shut my eyes tight, taking a step back. That fucking nickname.

I don't know why he still calls me that. It’s freaking outdated and hits far too close to home. We were just kids in high school when he gave me that nickname.

“Saint will never change,"

“I don’t need him to change, Alex. I’m not asking him to change. He’s my husband!” I snap, glancing over to make sure Milan is still busy playing with a toy truck near the sofa.

“A husband that treats you like fucking trash!” Alex’s hands clench into fists at his sides, his jaw tightening. “Look at yourself, Mela. Look at the situation you were in last night when I found you. Stay with me. Stay with me here, and forget all about that man. I'll take care of everything.”

“It’s not as easy as you make it sound!” I throw my hands up in frustration. “He’s Milan’s dad, Alex! I’m not making my baby girl grow up without a father like I did. Do you have any idea what that does to a child? It was traumatic, and I swore I would never put her through that!”

“Mela... you can’t go back there. If you go back, he’s just going to tear you down again.”

“What is your problem anyway? What do you have against him?” I press, the anger finally spilling over. “What’s it to you if he treats me like trash? Isn’t that how the men in your family treat women anyway? Why do you sound so surprised, Alexander? You’re trying so hard to break up my marriage, and it’s not funny anymore!”

Alex’s eyes darken immediately. The warmth in his expression completely disappears. He takes two steps, closing the distance between us until he’s looming right over me.

“I’m trying hard to break your marriage?” he whispers. “Mela, I know you’ve always been a terrible drunk, but you’re not one to forget things entirely. Don't sit here and act pure with me. I know you remember last night.”

I stand completely still, freezing under his gaze. My throat feels completely dry.

He tilts his head down, searching my face. “Oh. Now you’re quiet?”

“Nothing happened last night,” I whisper defensively, though my voice lacks the strength I want it to have.

“Deny it all you want, Mela,” he steps even closer. “We kissed. We fucked. You know we did.”

My cheeks burn fiercely, a deep blush spreading down my neck. I suddenly find it impossible to meet his eyes, fixing my gaze on the button of his shirt instead. “No... no, we did not.”

“Keep telling yourself that if it helps you sleep at night.”

“I know what I’m saying!” I mutter, looking back up at him. “I know you kissed me! I remember that much! But that was it, Alex! Nothing else happened!”

Alex just gives me a long, lingering look... a look that says he knows I’m lying to myself, a look that claims he knows something I don't.

It drives me absolutely crazy. I’m a grown woman, for God’s sake. I know how my body feels the morning after sex. I feel completely fine. My body doesn't ache, there's no soreness, and my mind doesn't hold a single tangible memory of fucking Alexander.

“You can’t even bring yourself to admit it,” he says quietly. “Did you even notice you’re not in the same clothes as yesterday? Who do you think took off your dress, Mela? Who do you think braided your hair while you were out cold?”

“Alex, please.” I take two quick steps back, shaking my head. “I’m not doing this with you. I’m not playing these mental games. Thank you for last night, thank you for taking care of Milan, but I’m leaving.”

“Where will you go?”

“I’m not telling you.”

“You know there’s no place you’ll go that I won’t find you, Mela,” he warns, his voice deadly serious. “You can run to the end of the earth, and I’ll still be right behind you.”

“Goodbye, Alex.”

I turn my back on him before he can see the tears pricking at the corners of my eyes. I move quickly around the room, grabbing the small bag I came here with, snatching up Milan’s stuffed pink bunny from the couch, and retrieving my car keys from the entry table. I reach down and firmly wrap my fingers around my baby’s tiny hand.

“Come on, sweetie, we’re going.”

“Mela, wait!”

Alex runs after us, his footsteps closing in fast. He reaches the front door before I can turn the handle, sliding his hand over the lock to block me.

“Here. Take this.” He reaches into his sweatpants pocket and pulls out a matte-black American Express card, practically handing me several billion dollars without so much as a flinch. His face is dead serious. “Come on, take it. Do it for Milan. If you’re not going home to Saint, then you’ll need it to set up an apartment.”

I look at the card, then up at his stern face. “I’m going home, Alex.”

I reach out, pushing his hand away firmly, and slide the lock open.

“Bye-bye, Alex!” Milan chirps, waving her chunky little hand in the air as I pull her out into the hallway.

Alex’s smiles slightly, as he raises two fingers to his mouth, blowing a quiet kiss toward her. “Bye, tiny.”

My chest tightens painfully at the sight.

The man might constantly tell everyone that he doesn't want kids or a wife of his own, but he’s sure as hell great with Milan. She absolutely adores him. She always looks forward to family gatherings simply because she knows her "Uncle Alex" will spoil her completely rotten with sweets and toys.

And me? Guilt settles over my shoulders as the hotel door shut behind us. I feel terrible walking out of this penthouse after just one night. It feels like I used him... used his luxury, his protection, his money... just to get through the night, and now I’m slinking away in the daylight... dressed in his bought pajamas, my hair neatly braided by his hands, carrying a baby in my arms.

We make it down the elevator and out to the quiet parking garage.

“Mama, hungry,” Milan says softly as I lean into the back seat, securing her into her car seat.

A small, weary sigh leaves my mouth as I click the final plastic harness belt into place. “You’ll eat soon, baby. Mama’s going to get us breakfast. We’re going home.”

“To Daddy?” she asks, leaning her small head back against the padding, staring up at me with a completely blank, innocent expression.

I freeze, staring right back at her, my mouth drying up as I find myself completely at a loss for words.

A two-year-old has never made more painful sense in my entire life.

I reach out, gently brushing her soft baby hair back from her forehead, and press a kiss against her skin.

“No,” I whisper softly. “We’re going to get something to eat first. And then... then we’ll go see your granny. And Mama will get a job and find us a place, okay?”

She nods slowly, like she understands at least half of what I just said.

I close the rear door, walking around to the driver's side. Climbing into the front seat, I stick the key into the ignition and start the engine. As the car starts, my eyes glance down at the space between my legs.

I did not have sex with Alexander.

I did not fucking have sex with him.

My head reels.

...Or did I?