“Melody Sco—Melody Carter,” I stammered.
“Wait here please,” he stepped inside a room concealed by frosted glass.
I took a deep breath and waited ten minutes before Ryan Warren came out of the room. He was just as I remembered him—tall and muscular, messy brown hair, and bright brown eyes that could see right through me.
“Melody? What are you doing here? I thought you would be halfway around the world with Mr. I Could Buy New York If I Wanted To by now.”
“We never got married,” I forced a lump back down my throat. “Well, we had the wedding and we were about to get married but—”
“I’m so sorry,” he hugged me. “What can I do for you?”
Don’t cry…Don’t cry…
“I really need a place to stay for a couple of weeks while I search for a condo, and I was hoping for a discount. I know you don’t—”
“A discount?” he scoffed. “Melody, I would never charge you for anything. You know that.”
Maybe I should’ve dated him after all.
“Thank you so much!”
“It’s not a problem. I’ll even put you in one of our penthouse suites. My wife helped to design them so I’m sure she’d be upset if I didn’t take the chance to show one off.”
Maybe not.
“I really appreciate this,” I wiped away a tear. “If you ever need a mention in the paper or anything I swear—”
“Don’t worry about it,” he kissed my hand and led me back to the lobby.
I sat in a cab trying to calm my shaking hands. I’d texted Sean earlier to let him know I would be coming over to get the rest of my things. I asked him not to be there.
When the cab dropped me off, I stood in front of the brick brownstone and reminisced: Sean and I picked out the yellow roses and hydrangeas that sat underneath the windows. We picked the front door with frosted glass and gold trim. We even designed the “Love Lives Here” welcome mat.
I wonder how he explained everything to his housekeeper...
I swallowed and rang the doorbell.
There was no answer. I rang the doorbell again.
“Who is it?” a woman’s voice came over the intercom.
I pressed the red button. “It’s me, Hannah! Melody!”
The door opened immediately, but instead of seeing his housekeeper Hannah, I found myself face to face with blonde bitch.
Her hair was in a short and shiny bob, not a single strand was out of place. She was nervously blinking her eyes, searching for something to say.
I glared at her and resisted the urge to slap her senseless.
“I’m sorry,” she took a step back. “I didn’t recognize you with red hair.”
“Well, I still don’t recognize you so…”
She looked hurt. “I’m sorry, I—”
“Look, I’m not sure if there’s a proper protocol for meeting the home-wrecker, but excuse me if I didn’t call you. I texted Sean and let him know I was coming earlier. I was living here a couple weeks ago you know?”
I felt my heart swell and blinked away a tear.
I can’t let this bitch see me cry.
“My apologies,” she stepped aside and let me into the house.
I walked past the open foyer, past the state of the art kitchen, and into the room that used to be my office. Upon entering the room, I nearly broke down.
The pictures we bought while vacationing in Greece were still hanging on the wall. The window coverings we purchased in Italy, the handmade beige and ivory satin drapes, were still flowing down to the floor.
The rest of my belongings were lined against the bay window on the far end of the room. One of my charm bracelets, the last one Sean and I made together, was lying on the floor. I scooped it up and rubbed each of the charms: plane, film reel, pizza slice, fountain pen, and a baby bottle.
I once told Sean that when the time came, we could turn my office into a nursery. I told him how I saw us painting the room together, traveling to Europe to find new photographs, and buying only the best baby furniture. I remembered him laughing as I told him this, smiling at the thought of our future together.
“Would you like some wine?” blonde bitch asked.
WHAT?
“No thank you. I’m just going to get started if you don’t mind.”
She looked as if she wanted to say something more, but she nodded her head and walked away.
The nerve.
I pulled out a duffle bag and stuffed it with dresses and shoes. I stacked everything else in the center of the room and made a list of what I was leaving for Sophie to retrieve tomorrow.
After an hour of organizing, I pulled the duffle bag over my shoulder and walked down the hallway. I spotted blonde bitch reading a book in the kitchen.
“Woman to woman,” I dropped the duffle bag onto the floor. “I need to ask you something.”
“Yes?” she looked up at me.
“Did you sleep with my fiancé before my wedding?”
“Yes.”
“Did you know that he was engaged?” my voice cracked.
“Yes.”
“And you didn’t see a problem with that?”
“Of course I did. But I just knew that he and I—”