LOGINThe walk home felt longer than usual.
Snow Brook Valley was glowing, literally. Every lamp post had a wreath, every porch had fairy lights, every window flickered with warm yellow bulbs. It should have warmed Melody’s heart. It should’ve made her feel wrapped in the magic she used to breathe so easily.
Instead, the cold cut deeper tonight.
Her boots crunched over the fresh layer of snow as she reached her apartment building. She paused, looking up at the lights dangling above her door. Brandon hung them every December. It was their tradition. But this year, he put them up alone, quietly on a random night she came home late from the bakery.
He didn’t even wait for her.
She pushed the thought away as she stepped into their apartment. The moment she closed the door behind her, a hush settled. An empty hush. The kind that echoed.
She slipped off her coat, her fingers stiff from the cold, and headed straight to the kitchen. Cooking always calmed her. Maybe tonight, it would silence the ache too.
She gathered ingredients, set water to boil, chopped onions, stirred sauce movements she knew by heart. Something simple, comfortable. Pasta. Brandon loved pasta. She hoped maybe tonight he’d come home early, maybe he’d sit with her and they’d talk.
As she reached for the turkey in the fridge, a knock sounded on the front door. Sharp and unexpected. Melody frowned. Who could it be at this hour?
She wiped her hands on her apron and went to answer it.
A deliveryman stood outside, bundled in a thick jacket and hat.
“Package for Mr. Brandon,” he said, holding out an electronic pad for her to sign.
“Oh,” Melody blinked. “Sure. He’s… he’s not home yet. I can sign.”
She scribbled her name, accepted the sleek box, and closed the door behind her.
The moment she turned, her heart gave a strange little kick. She didn't know what it was, it felt like a box. A small box.
She placed it gently on the kitchen counter. A whisper of instinct rippled through her.
Don’t touch it.
But another voice pushed louder, maybe it was a surprise and she'll ruin the surprise if she opens the box. Her chest tightened. When they first started dating, Brandon was the king of surprises, flowers “just because,” ice cream bowls delivered to her shop, goofy handwritten notes tucked in her coat pocket. He’d make her smile until her cheeks hurt.
Those moments felt like someone else’s memories now.
She looked at the package again.
What if he was trying to bring that man back? What if he bought her something for Christmas?
But then reality stung her harder, he's been complaining he had no money.
Claiming the construction company was delaying payments, he couldn’t lend her anything for the bakery.
Those claims felt heavy now, as she stared at a box that screamed money.
She chewed her lip.
“What harm is a peek?” she whispered to no one.
She slowly opened the outer packaging, revealing a jewelry box. The box was matte black with embossed silver lettering luxurious, heavy in her hands. Not from any local store, this was from Boss Jewelers, one of the priciest luxury jewelry shops in the region.
Her breath caught.
Brandon couldn’t even afford to help her with a little cash for her electricity bill last week.
Why was he buying her such expensive jewelry? Early wedding present? She felt an inexpressible excitement, tightened inside her as she lifted the lid.
Inside, nestled in velvet, lay a bracelet so stunning it could steal breath. Silver intertwined with rose-gold filigree. Delicate diamonds winking like frozen stars.
It was exquisite.
Her heart swelled and broke at the same time.
But then she saw the engraving.
She leaned closer.
"To Suzie, my one true love.”
The world fell out beneath her.
Her hands trembled so violently she almost dropped the bracelet.
Suzie?
Her throat constricted, breath thinning, pulse hammering. No. No, no, no. This wasn’t happening. This couldn’t be happening. Brandon wasn’t this man. He wouldn’t do this. He wouldn’t…
She squeezed her eyes shut.
Maybe it was a mistake. People ordered gifts all the time during Christmas, mistakes happened. Mix-ups happened.
The bracelet couldn't be for him. Not with those words.
Maybe the name on the package was wrong. Maybe it was for someone else.
Maybe the courier mixed up the apartments.
She forced herself to breathe, to think. She carefully, precisely, repacked everything, placed the bracelet back in its cushion, closed the box, wrapped the outer layer exactly how it came, pressing the tape where it originally folded.
Her heart was still slamming against her ribs as she set the package on the counter.
She tried to resume cooking, tried to pretend nothing happened, but her hands shook as she stirred the sauce. Her mind kept replaying the words.
To Suzie
my one true love.
Each repetition cut deeper.
She was still staring blankly at the boiling pot when the front door opened.
“Hey,” he said, his tone flat. Tired. Stiff. Not the man she fell in love with.
“Hi,” Melody replied quietly. “You’re home early tonight.”
He shrugged off his jacket. “The weather got bad fast. The boss told us to close early.”
She studied him. He didn’t look like he’d spent the whole day on a construction site. He looked clean, too clean.
Her heart crawled up her throat.
She forced a smile and nodded toward the counter.
“You have a package.”
His eyes flicked to it.
And for a fraction of a second just a tiny, tiny second, Melody saw something raw flash across his face.
Fear.
Then it disappeared.
“Oh,” Brandon said lightly. “Yeah. Work stuff.”
“Work stuff?” she repeated softly.
He picked up the box too quickly.
“Yeah. Just some materials we’re using for the new project.”
She swallowed.
Materials. From a luxury jewelry company.
For a construction project. But she said nothing.
Her voice would betray her.
He turned to head upstairs when she finally found her courage.
“Brandon?”
He paused on the first step.
“Hm?”
“Why didn’t you tell me about the dinner party tomorrow? The one at Mr. Callahan’s new house.”
He froze.
Enough for someone who loved him to notice.
He turned slowly.
“What dinner party?”
Her stomach twisted.
Why was he lying?
“Cynthia told me,” Melody said softly. “She came by the bakery today.”
Brandon blinked, searching for an excuse, his fingers tightening slightly around the package.
“Oh. Oh, that.” He cleared his throat. “Yeah, sorry. I… forgot to mention it. Been busy. Work’s been…”
“Stressful,” Melody finished for him. “You’ve said that.”
His jaw twitched.
“I’m not lying,” he muttered, defensive in a way that hurt.
She forced a small nod. “Okay.”
“I’m gonna shower,” he said quickly, retreating up the stairs.
She watched him go.
The man she loved. The man she was supposed to marry in twenty-three days.
The man who used to be her safe place.
Now he felt like a stranger holding secrets in the palm of his hand.
She turned back to the stove, stirring the pasta mechanically. Her mind was an avalanche, too many thoughts, too many fears, too much silence.
She didn’t need anyone to tell her.
Her heart already knew.
Something was wrong.
And the bracelet was only the beginning.
Melody walked to the bathroom the next morning feeling sore, as she washed her face and started back at her reflection, she looked sick. Her eyes were red and her voice was hoarse for crying herself to sleep, her body feeling heavier than it should. It was still cold outside so she wore something very thick and turned on the room heater. She should have been having a great time, but thanks to her inability to not ruin things, she was already having a shitty morning. She checked her phone again, still no calls and the only message she had was the one from her bank.Yesterday’s words kept repeating in her head, loud and sharp. She had said them. She had told Logan she loved him for money and comfort. She had told him she didn’t care. And she had meant none of it. None of it.Her chest tightened as the guilt rolled over her like waves, relentless and punishing. She had replayed every gesture, every conversation, every time he had smiled at her, gone out of his way for her, treated her l
Logan’s hands trembled slightly as he obeyed, peeling off his shirt and loosening his belt. Hanni’s eyes never left him, dark and playful, daring him, teasing him, challenging him all at once. She moved with a grace that was hypnotic, like she owned the space, like she owned him.“Good boy,” she whispered, her voice low and husky, sending a shiver down his spine. She stepped closer, her robe parting just enough to reveal the lace beneath. “You look too tense… let me take care of that.”Before he could respond, she pressed herself against him, her warmth searing against his chest. Her hands were bold, roaming, commanding attention, and yet every touch was electric, like fire dancing over his skin. Logan’s head fell back instinctively, his lips parting, caught somewhere between a groan and a gasp.Hanni chuckled softly, a sound that was both teasing and dangerous. “Relax,” she murmured, brushing a strand of hair from his face. “I’ve got you. All of you.”He couldn’t help but notice the
Logan knew he shouldn’t be anywhere near Hanni. That truth had followed him the moment he left Melody in the bedroom, the echo of her words still ringing in his ears like a cruel joke he couldn’t shake. ‘I loved the money, the comfort that comes from being around you and that’s all.’ He replayed it over and over, each time it sounded just as devastating as the first.Melody wasn’t like that, she never had been. There was something different about her, she wasn't like other girls. She wasn't one to draw attention to herself, she listened to everyone and considered everyone to be equal. She didn’t cling to labels or status. She didn’t ask for things. Hell, half the time he had to convince her to accept what he offered. That wasn’t a woman driven by money. That wasn’t a woman who loved convenience.She was lying and she was doing it just to get back at him, to punish him for his mistakes yesterday. If the roles were reversed, he would’ve done the same.The thought didn’t make it hurt an
Logan came back long after the house had gone quiet. The beach house was dark except for a few soft lights along the hallway and the staircase. The ocean outside was calm, the sound of the waves faint, steady, almost mocking him with how peaceful everything felt when his head was anything but chaos.He stood in the hallway for a moment, holding the flowers in his hands like they weighed a ton. More than a hundred red roses. He’d stood in the florist’s shop arguing with himself about how much was too much, then decided there was no such thing. He added chocolates too. Expensive ones. The kind wrapped in gold foil and silk ribbons. He didn’t even know if Melody liked chocolates like that. He just knew people always said women did.He went upstairs quietly, careful not to wake anyone. The door to their bedroom was closed.He hesitated before knocking. He imagined her voice telling him to go away again. It scared him more than anger ever could. So he didn’t knock. He opened the door slowl
Logan walked out of the bedroom and didn’t look back. The tension from the yacht still sat heavy in his chest, pressing down with every step he took across the polished floors of the beach house. His thoughts were a storm he couldn’t calm. Hanni. Melody. Hanni again. He sank into the familiar leather chair in his father’s library. The quiet hum of the heating system, the faint scent of old books and polished wood, did nothing to soothe him. He always loved it here, but somehow today feels different.He rested his elbows on his knees, hands clasped tightly together, and stared at the wall ahead. The morning had started like any other beautiful holiday morning, with smiles, laughter, the warmth of family. But one yacht ride had thrown everything into chaos. One person just happens to ruin everything good in his life. Melody had left the room for a call. He’d gone to the bathroom to catch a moment of peace, and Hanni had appeared. Locked the door. Pressed herself against him. He had res
Melody apologized softly, almost mechanically, saying she needed to get back home. Her voice didn’t sound like her own when she said it. It sounded thin. Controlled, like she was holding something back that would shatter her if she let it out. Since she got back from the bathroom, she hasn't been herself. It feels like it's only a matter of time before the future repeats itself.Logan asked if she was sure, his hand hovering near her elbow, but she nodded and stepped away before he could touch her. She said she wasn’t feeling too well and asked if they could turn the yacht around.Camilla immediately dismissed any concern about cutting the trip short. Melody’s comfort came first. If she wasn’t enjoying the ride, there was no reason to continue.The yacht turned smoothly, slicing back through the water toward the private dock behind the Russo’s beach house. Melody stood by the railing the entire time, staring ahead. She didn’t look back. She didn’t look at Logan. She didn’t look at an







