For You (The 'Burg #1)(155)
Fucking, f**king hell.
He looked into the night then at his ex-wife. Melanie was everything Feb wasn’t, dark-haired, quiet, thoughtful, patient. She didn’t dance because she was worried people were watching and more worried about what they’d think. It took her weeks to come to a decision about anything, no matter how large or small because she didn’t take risks, she treaded cautiously. He’d liked all that about her when he fell in love with her, he thought it was cute and it was. Until she took her time making the decision about leaving him, pulling away the whole time she took to make it. Then it wasn’t f**king cute.
“Come into the house,” he said. He didn’t want to but he also didn’t want to have this conversation at ten thirty at night in his yard.
He led the way, hearing Melanie’s feet hit the turf as she walked beside him and partly behind him something else she’d always done and something he never understood, why she’d never walk right beside him.
He unlocked the door and went to the security panel.
When he made the beeping stop, he walked to the lamp by the couch as she asked, “You have an alarm?”
“Yeah,” he said, turning on the lamp.
In the light, she took him in, saying, “You’re in a suit.”
“Funeral today.”
They both heard the meow and their eyes went to Wilson who Colt could swear was standing in the doorway to the hall staring at Melanie with indictment in his eyes.
“You have a cat?” Melanie asked.
“Mel –”
She cut him off. “You hate cats.”
Colt expelled a breath and Melanie’s face crumpled as understanding dawned.
“It’s her cat,” she whispered.
He did not need this now. Actually, he didn’t need this at all but particularly not now.
With less patience than he would normally use with her, he reminded her, “You left me, Mel.”
She closed her eyes and shook her head, small shakes, like she couldn’t even commit to the decision to show that emotion. Then her eyes opened and she looked around the space, trying to find hints of Feb, evidence of a betrayal it wasn’t hers to claim. They’d bought that house together, intending to use it to build a life and she’d left him behind in it to live alone.
“You’re here to say something,” Colt prompted, “so say it.”
Her eyes shot to his and he saw the sting his words caused. He’d always been tolerant with the quirks in her personality mostly because, in the beginning, he thought they were sweet. After that, he did it out of habit. She’d been gone a good while and he was out of the habit.
“She told everyone to stop talkin’ about us,” Melanie said.
“What?”
“Feb,” she explained, “when people heard about… when I called… you know how people talk.”
“I do.”
“Well, she… Feb, told them to quit talkin’ about us.”
“You mean you,” Colt said honestly and Melanie sucked in her cheeks. “Feb told folks to stop talkin’ about you.”
She’d do that, Feb would. She might not tell folks to stop talking about her, or her and Colt, but she wouldn’t stand and listen to folks talking about Melanie.
“I should have never said anything to Marla,” Melanie stated quietly.
Marla Webster was Melanie’s best friend and a pain in the ass. She had a big mouth, for one. For another, her mouth was loud, always nearly shouting even in a one-on-one conversation like she was talking to someone mostly deaf. Unfortunately, since she talked so damned much, you could never get a word in to tell her to quit yelling. One thing Colt didn’t miss when Melanie left was Marla.
“I kept telling you, Melly, Marla’s a pain in the ass.”
Pain flashed through her face at the reminder of a time when Colt told her anything and the little patience Colt had left, he was losing.
She’d left him, he didn’t ask her to leave, didn’t f**king want her to leave, but she left. That decision was on her. What happened after was not her business. He couldn’t say what would go down if this was happening and Melanie was in his life. The pull of Feb was so strong, he might have buckled and been drawn in by her. Then again, he’d loved his wife so he might not. But, all this shit was going down when he luckily didn’t have a wife. And it was luck that he’d been free, he knew it in his bones and that might not say good things about him but he didn’t give a shit.
Melanie’s eyes came to his and he could see the tears threatening there.
“Is she living here?” she asked.
Colt told her the truth. “She’s been stayin’ here and, yeah, she’s movin’ in.”
“So, if I asked –”
Colt shook his head. “Don’t ask.”
“But –”
“Don’t ask, Mel.”
And he knew it, he knew it then. He knew she’d been thinking about this since Feb came home, trying to make the decision of whether she should approach for reconciliation. Fretting over it for years and timing it too late.
But even if she’d come to him earlier, with Feb home he knew what his answer would have been even thinking he was finished with Feb. He knew it and Melanie knew it. She stayed strong and true to him, there would have been no problem. But she hadn’t and with Feb in town he wouldn’t have taken her back to live under the cloud she brought. Those glances she always threw Feb’s way, the times they’d all be together and he’d catch her studying him as if trying to read a hidden infidelity written on his soul. Why she was making this play now, he didn’t have a clue and he didn’t like it. It wasn’t sweet, it wasn’t cute. It was straight out selfish.