Shy, sweet Mel had asked him out.
And he’d—
Christ, he’d been a dick.
Okay. Okay. He could make this right.
He just needed to figure out how to fix it and do that fixing considering how much it had to have cost Mel to approach him in the first place. She’d harnessed that sweet and shy and…hell, it sucked getting turned down in any way, but most especially in the way he’d done it.
Because he’d been a dick.
“Teresa or not,” he said, processing that the reason Jer had been staring after Mel wasn’t because he’d actually been staring after Mel. It was because he’d been watching Teresa leave right behind her.
Ash was a dick…and an idiot.
He put that aside, and focused on what was more important. “Do me a favor and check in with Mel later, yeah?”
“If you’re so worried,” Jer said, “why don’t you check in?”
“Dude,” he said, lying through his fucking teeth. “It’s Mel. She gets nervous just sitting around the table with us. But she’s comfortable with you, so just check in, okay?”
“Fine,” Jer muttered, shoving the cards into the box. “I’ll check in.”
“Good,” Ash muttered back.
They packed up the rest of the games, made sure Cora’s place had been properly cleaned—their mother had taught them some manners after all—and then he got the hell out of there.
All the while thinking he needed to find a way to fix this.
No. That, first, he needed to apologize.
“Fuck,” he muttered, jabbing at the button to start his car, and pulling out of the driveway. It wouldn’t be easy, not when he kept seeing the pain in Mel’s eyes, the way she’d held her body so carefully. How she’d deliberately avoided him and then escaped as quickly as possible.
She was hurt.
He’d done that.
So, he had to find a way to fix it.
Only…he didn’t get a chance to.
Mel didn’t come to the next two Game Nights, and when she finally showed for a Sunday Dinner a few weeks later, she spent the majority of her time in the kitchen with his mother, prepping some recipes the two of them had been planning for a while.
Recipes that were labor intensive.
Recipes that meant she didn’t have time to talk.
No doubt it was by design.
Something that was confirmed when she snuck out before he could find a quiet moment to apologize.
Mel was avoiding him.
He didn’t blame her.
It was just…this was eating him alive—what he’d said, the hurt in her eyes, her avoidance…and the fact that he’d let his chance with her slip away because he’d thought that Jer wanted her.
Trying to be a good brother meant he’d fucked up something that might have been great.
And as the weeks went by, he didn’t know how to fix it.
How to make it better.
How to take her hurt away.
He worried…he wouldn’t be able to.
That she wouldn’t ever forgive him.
“That’s on you,” he muttered, dropping his cell on his dresser. He’d missed his chance. Possibly missed out on her forever.
Totally on him.
He yanked open a drawer, reached for a pair of sweats.
It wasn’t all that late, but he was tired.
He should go to bed. Maybe he’d dream up some brilliant plan to make things right—
His cell rang and one glance at the screen had his heart stuttering. He lurched for it, swiped, and listened to the voice on the other end.
To Mel hysterical on the other end.
“I—he hurt me,” she slurred out. “I’m-I—Ash—” She broke off sobbing, sucked in a rasping, painful-sounding breath. “Pl-please help me.”
He didn’t think.
Didn’t stop.
Just immediately ran for the front door.
“You need to go cool off,” Jer said, hours later.
He couldn’t leave.
Couldn’t move on.
Mel—his sweet, shy Mel had been drugged and beaten and raped and she’d called him. Him to come get her.
Locked in the bathroom.
Voice slurred and filled with tears.
Not knowing where she was.
He’d managed to get her to send him a pin with her location, had found the apartment, had busted in the fucking door, and gotten her out of there.
The man—and Ash used that term loosely—had put up a fight, but Ash hadn’t been able to deliver the beating he deserved, not when he’d needed to get Mel safe.
His brothers had taken care of delivering the real hurt.
Unfortunately, that was less in the form of violence—though they’d gotten in a few good hits—and more in the form of calling the police.
And helping Ash get Mel to the hospital.
And taking pictures.
And holding her as she cried.
And—
She was hurt.
Hurt.
Because of him.
Because he’d fucked up. If he’d taken her up on that date, she wouldn’t have gone out and—
“Ash,” Jer said, catching his shoulder, shaking him slightly. “You need to go cool off. I’ll stay with her.”
“She called me,” he snapped, shoving her off. “She needs me.”
Jeremy glared. “She doesn’t need you like this.”
Edgy. Agitated. Riddled with guilt.
She needed him to not fuck this up.
“You should go.”
Mel’s rasping voice had him freezing.
“What?” he whispered.
“Go,” she said again.
He moved to her bedside, reached for her hand, hating when she flinched back. “I’m not leaving.”
“You don’t want to be here,” she whispered.
He touched her cheek. “I’m here,” he said, “and that’s exactly where I want to be.”
She jerked away from him, then winced. “You don’t.”
“I’m here,” he repeated. “And I’m not going anywhere.”
Her eyes came to him, the green depths flickering with a flurry of emotions he couldn’t decipher.
“Sure, you are,” she whispered.
And he knew, knew that she didn’t believe him.
Worse, he couldn’t blame her.
Three
Melody, 5 months later
She watched Jeremy slip the engagement ring on Teresa’s finger and couldn’t have been happier for either of them.
They deserved it.
They deserved each other.
They deserved a life that would lead them to happiness.
But she couldn’t lie and deny it hurt, seeing these two people she cared about, blissful and lost in each other’s eyes.
Still, Mel couldn’t begrudge them, wouldn’t begrudge them.
It was just that she…well, she had spent the last few months putting on a damned good front.
She was in therapy. Look at her go, trying to get better!
She went to Game Nights and Girls’ Nights and Reality TV Binge Day and work events that needed a twinly escort and Sunday Dinners and days like this—celebrating big milestones that people deserved to have celebrated.