I furrow my brow. “… Okay.”
“I fed your fish,” he says. “They were kinda rude, but fish gonna fish, I guess.”
“I appreciate it.”
“Also — I just think someone should tell you and it might as well be me — you look like shit.”
Melanie laughs.
“Thanks, Roger,” I say. “You’re a good friend.”
He extends the coffee toward Melanie. “For you, Ms. Rose,” he says.
She takes it, surprised. “Oh, thank you.”
“You didn’t make it to brunch yesterday, so I figured I’d bring it to you. Oh—” He reaches into the duffel bag and withdraws a small pastry bag from Moira’s. “I brought you an everything bagel, too. Your favorite.”
“That’s...” She sets it down on the bedside table. “That’s very sweet of you. Thank you.”
Roger looks from me to her and back again before sitting down on the edge of the bed. “So, now that this whole thing is behind us, I think it’s time for the three of us to talk about the... undeniable sexual tension between us.”
He rests one hand on mine and the other on Melanie’s across my lap.
“The what?” I ask.
“Robbie, you will be healing for a while,” he says. “That means you’ll be unable to perform certain... duties for Ms. Rose.”
I frown. “Roger.”
“I just want you to know that I am willing and very, very able to step in for you whenever she needs it.”
“The second I get out of this bed, I’m going to kick your ass.”
He eases back with his hands raised in defense. “I just wanted to put that out there.”
“Put it back in,” I say.
“We were all thinking it.”
“No, we weren’t.”
He smirks at Melanie. “You sure about that?”
I look at her. She instantly averts her eyes, but the flush in her cheeks is hard not to notice.
“Pfft,” she says, leaning back. “That’s... no. Roger. Of course we don’t need... that.”
I squint. “Go home, Rog.”
Roger grins as he hoists himself off the bed. “Get well soon, buddy. Merry Christmas!” He reaches the door before turning around and giving Melanie a quick bow. “Good day, Ms. Rose,” he says.
“Bye, Roger,” she squeaks.
He leaves. I glare at Melanie’s bright cheeks for a second longer before letting it go.
She sighs. “We have to change the locks, don’t we?”
My smile returns. “We?” I ask.
Melanie bites her cheek in hesitation. “So, I kind of... sold my condo already.”
“You really get shit done when you’re pissed.”
She nods, regretful. “I need a place to stay until I can figure something out.”
I entwine my fingers around hers. “I know a place,” I say.
“Are you sure?” she asks. “I know you gave me a key before, but that was before everything exploded, so...”
“The offer still stands, Melanie. You can move in today.”
She smiles, her eyes glistening once more.
“Come here,” I say, pulling on her hand.
She sits on the edge of the bed with me. I pull her down and she softly rests her head on my shoulder. I bury my nose in her hair. I kiss her forehead. I hold her close, knowing that all the pain and heartache wasn’t for nothing.
“I love you, Melanie,” I whisper.
She exhales, breathing easier. “I love you, too, Robbie.”
All of this will be worth it.
I promise, Mel.
Forty-Four
Melanie
“Hey, guys,” I say as I shake out a little fish food into the tank. “You hungry?”
The goldfish swim out of their hiding places, eager for some morning grub. I smile at all three of them as they pass by the glass. I take a moment to let the bubbles soothe me before I turn toward the windows with my coffee.
The streets below are alive with Sunday morning traffic. I take the last cold sip from the mug and smile, feelings of happy accomplishment washing over me.
It’s a good day.
I check the time. It’s after eleven already?
I should get going soon if I don’t want to be late for brunch.
I drop off my empty mug in the kitchen sink and head down the hall to the bathroom to get cleaned up. A quick face wash. Some dry shampoo. A little eye shadow and some lip gloss and I’m ready to go.
The floorboards creak in the bedroom. My ears twitch, trained to detect that sound, along with the gentle tap of a cane moving across the floor. The shuffle of bare feet. The soft groan of pain.
I open the medicine cabinet behind the bathroom mirror. A small safe sits inside. I tap in the combination and grab the orange pill bottle from inside before rushing out of the bathroom to inspect what he’s doing.
I pause in the bedroom doorway and sneer at Robbie. The cane rests on the end of the bed beside him. He raises his arms, slowly inching a white shirt down over his head. He’s already wearing jeans, too.
“What are you doing?” I ask him.
Robbie grabs his cane. “I’m getting up,” he says.
“Why?”
He sets the cane on the floor and my gut lurches as he hoists himself up on his own. “Because I am well-rested and getting out of bed is what you do once that’s achieved.”
“Do you need help?” I ask.
“No.”
“Are you sure?”
He chuckles. “Melanie.”
“Robbie.”
“I’m fine.” He walks toward me, barely even using the cane to move. “Is there still coffee?”
“Yes,” I answer. “Are you hurting?”
“No.”
“I heard a groan.”
“Standing up and sitting down is still a little rough, but otherwise, I’m fine.”
I hold up the pill bottle. “I can put these away, then?”
“Yeah. Better yet, flush them.”
“I will not flush them.”
“I don’t need them anymore,” he says.
I study his face for signs of pain, but he’s far more relaxed than I am. It’s been over a week now since he’s asked for pain meds. His wound is all closed up and his ribs have healed, but I still worry that he’s toughing it out more than he should.
Robbie smiles.
I frown. “What?”
“You’re cute when you’re worried about me,” he says, easily reading my thoughts.
“I don’t want
