Page 45 of Marriage and the Midlife Crisis

It was blatantly obvious that they were directing their comments to their mother, rather than to me, and I had to turn away so none of them would see the tears in my eyes.

Goddamn, that hurt.

“Don’t forget the coats,” Mel reminded them, and they both rolled their eyes as they slipped them on. Although they were both a couple of inches taller than my father-in-law, Joe had at least fifty pounds on them, mostly around the middle, so the coats hung loosely on their frames.

An awkward silence descended on the room as soon as the door closed behind them. I stared at Melanie, taking in every inch of her as if seeing her for the first time in a long time.

In a way, I was doing just that.

She glanced around the room, her discomfort glaringly apparent, and I scrambled for anything to cut the tension.

“Do you want some coffee?”

Her gaze darted back to me, and she nodded before following me into the kitchen. We carried our mugs back into the living room, and I took a seat on one end of the couch. Melanie eyed the other end, then sat down in the chair that I’d recently vacated.

I took a sip of my coffee, mostly to have something to do my hands, and Melanie gasped as she caught sight of my swollen knuckles.

“What the hell happened to your hand?” She set her cup down and leaned forward to get a closer look at the damaged flesh. She started to reach for it, then pulled back suddenly, as if remembering that she didn’t want to touch me.

“I punched Mitch in the face.”

Her eyes widened as her mouth fell open in shock. I carefully flexed my hand to show her it wasn’t as bad as it looked, as she still sat there, completely dumbstruck.

“Why?”

I looked away, unable to face her as I whispered, “Because you filed for divorce.”

Chapter 15

Melanie

I’d been shocked that Ryan had punched Mitch, but I was equally stunned at his claim that I’d filed for divorce.

“I didn’t file,” I corrected, and Ryan’s surprised gaze shot to hold mine. “Not yet at least. That’s why I wanted to meet with you this morning. We need to talk before I make a decision like that.”

“But you saw a lawyer. You paid them.” At my look of confusion, he admitted that he’d seen the charge come through on our bank account yesterday afternoon.

I winced. Shit, I’d meant to use my credit card to pay, but as upset as I’d been, I’d apparently used our debit card instead.

“I did talk to an attorney, and the payment was for the consulting fee. I just wanted to see what the process would be, research my options. She talked about mediation, rather than a traditional divorce filing. It would save us time and money –“

He shot to his feet and began pacing, something he always did when his emotions ran high.

“God, Mel, I don’t want a divorce, and it’s killing me to sit here listening to you calmly discuss fucking options for ending our marriage as if we’re trying to decide whether to have Chinese or Italian for dinner.”

“Calmly? You think I’m calm? I’m barely hanging on by a thread, Ryan. I feel like I’m dying inside every time I even say the word divorce, for fuck’s sake. Do you think I want this? Do you think I want any of this?” I flung my arms out, gesturing wildly.

He sat down on the edge of the couch cushion and reached for my hands, not letting me pull them away this time.

“Then why are you even considering it? If it hurts you that much, then let me fix things.”

“Fix things? Can you go back in time and unfuck the stripper?” I snarled. I tugged my hands and he had the good sense to let go of them before running a shaky hand through his hair. “I had to go to the clinic to be tested for STIs because of you. Do you know how humiliating that was?”

He winced before telling me that Mark had told him. “I’m so sorry you felt like you had to do that, but I promise you, all the results will be negative. I didn’t touch her, Melanie. Will you please listen to me so I can tell you exactly what happened that night? I fucked up, yes, I admit that. I betrayed you by going to a strip club, and I’m sorrier than you will ever know about that, but I didn’t have sex with a stripper or anyone else. I haven’t touched another woman in any kind of a sexual way since before I first laid eyes on you. I swear to you, sweetness. No one but you.”

His voice was raspy, and his tone was ringing with sincerity. He held my gaze with his – not flinching, not looking away even for a moment as he pleaded with me to believe him.

“Tell me everything, and if you even think about lying, I’m leaving, and I won’t come back,” I warned.