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“No.” Bile built in the back of her throat and she fisted her hands in the blanket at her sides. “I am not your anything. Jason, stop calling.”
“We belong together.”
“When did you realize that? The first or third relationship you had behind my back? Or the cards you opened in my name to ruin the credit I worked so fucking hard to get back!?” Her jaw tightened and her fingernails dug into her palms.
Wes placed a hand over hers in support.
She stared at the screen, seeing his face was making her feel ill. She couldn’t back down now, she’d come this far. She needed to stay strong and see this through. “Jason. We’re done. Don’t call me. Ever.”
“Melody. Babe.”
“Alright, that’s enough.” Wes took the phone from Melody. “You were told.” He hung the phone up and tossed it on the bed. He reached for Melody and pulled her into his lap. “Well, that wasn’t exactly what I had planned.”
“What you had planned makes me nervous.” She pulled at the hem of his shirt, avoiding eye contact. She was content to soak him in.
Hearing Jason’s acidic tone rolled through her in a way she had forgotten about. He left her uneasy and small. The confidence she’d built around Wes had deflated and left her abandoned.
“Hey?” Wes crooked a finger under her chin and she resisted. “Melody.” He laced his fingers at the small of her back, cradling her to drape her body over his.
Melody stared into the void of the room, her ear pressed against Wes’ chest. She turned her focus to the rhythmic beating of his heart, drowning out any intrusive thought before they flourished.
“Talk to me, babygirl.”
She shook her head and sniffled.
“Wise woman told me that women aren’t mind readers.”
Melody was silent.
“I can’t mend what I don’t know is broken.”
“Broken. Beyond repair. Stupid.”
Wes’ fingers flexed against her back, the muscles tightened with restraint and Melody tucked her arms in tighter against herself.
“Listen to me.” The muscles in his jaw flexed against the top of her head. “I hate to burst your bubble, but you're not anymore fucked up than the rest of us. We're all a little wounded in some way."
“Well, they shoot horses to put them out of their misery.”
"You know this negative self-talk is only going to get you so far. I do not enjoy or condone you talking bad about yourself. I’ll pull the ‘Daddy’ card if I have to.”
Melody's shoulders shifted and Wes pulled her off his chest to sit up.
His hands tightened around her waist as she tried to dismount him. But he wasn't letting her go no matter how much she struggled against him.
“So tell me where all of this is coming from.”
“You can't fix everything.”
“Now, you know how I feel about lying,” he paused his words, keeping her face forced to look at him.
“It's f-fine. I’m fine.” She sniffled.
“Alright.” He cleared his throat and shifted himself so she could rest on his knees. He placed his forehead against hers, his thumbs running over her cheeks in an attempt to smooth away her fears. “I would like you to tell me what’s wrong. Not to push a boundary but to better understand what happened that triggered you, Melody.” The sharpness of his tone might as well have been a slap on her ass.
She swallowed the lump in her throat and finally opened her eyes to look at him.
In his eyes she didn’t find her fears or insecurities, but caring and concern.
