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I grab my belongings and make my excuses to leave. I can’t bring myself to look my brothers in the eyes and pretend I’m not leaving for good. I’m terrible at goodbyes. Horrible at them.
I jog down the steps to the parking garage. Every muscle aches, and my ears haven’t stopped ringing since last week, but nothing can dull my excitement to see Mel again.
The traffic blurs in my peripheral as I drive on the freeway, heading for home. As I inch closer to my final destination, my heartbeat picks up its pace. I can’t wait to shower, wrestle my woman to the couch, smother her with kisses, then snuggle up, watching TV and eating stupid amounts of pepperoni pizza.
My stomach grumbles at the thought of greasy food. Martin has had the team on nothing but protein shakes and salmon. In fact, I hope I never have to see or smell salmon again in my life.
I park up in the garage and spot Mel’s car parked by the elevator. I take the stairs two at a time, heading for my penthouse. The halls are quiet and my ears thump with my racing heartbeat. She’s home, and she’s got no idea I’m back.
On my way, I grab a vase with a bunch of roses from a windowsill and rake a hand through my dark, messy hair. Whoever said romance is dead?
I find my way to my door and hold my key card to it until the lock clicks.
Almost bursting with excitement now, I step forward as the door swings open, brandishing the flowers like a trophy.
“Honey, I’m home!”
Two things fall.
First, my smile.
Then, the vase.
It crashes spectacularly on the marble floor and drenches my sneakers in dirty water.
“What the heck are you doing?” I ask, staring unblinking at the tangled couple on the couch.
My couch.
A man jumps up, grabs a white shirt, and backs away until I see Mel, her white-blonde curls now frizzy and wild. Her red lipstick is smudged on the corners of her mouth, making her look like a sick cross between Einstein and the Joker from Batman.
Her ice-blue eyes land on me and she holds up a blanket to her chin. “Babe. You’re home a week early!”
She says it with an accusatory tone. I drop my bag. “Oh, I’m sorry. My bad. I didn’t expect my girlfriend to be sleeping with another man while I’m away. If I’d known, I’d have given you a heads-up.”
Mel frowns at my sarcasm but doesn’t move while the guy grabs his shoes. He won’t make eye contact with me. He waves to Mel instead.
“I’ll call you later.”
“Ah. How nice is that?” I say, resting my hands on my hips as I watch the guy make a beeline for the door. “He’s going to call you. Very thoughtful.”
The door slams and Mel shuts her eyes, turning her face away from me.
After a few moments of heavy silence, I approach the couch. I can feel my eyes blazing as I stare Mel down.
“Well?”
She opens her eyes and rummages around the couch, finds a shirt, and pulls it on. “Well, what?”
She has the audacity to look at me now. There’s not even a hint of remorse on her face.
Who is this woman? This is not the sweet, bubbly girl I met at a bar two years ago.
“I’m just wondering why you’re still here?” I say, puffing air through my nostrils like a dragon. My breaths are coming out so hard, they’re burning my nose. A part of me won’t be surprised if my next puff actually lets out smoke.
Mel’s face twists into shock. “Because I live here.”
I shake my head at the incredulity. How can she think it’s reasonable to stay after I caught her cheating on me? “Not anymore, you don’t.”
