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#BESIDES Mel's not even that great at making friends with her friends let alone pursuing a romance agdjdhss
scornedlove · 6 years
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Chapter Eleven
ROBYN
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“Robyn” Jenn called out, stepping on the back porch and I quickly pulled back. “There you are, Dale and I are leaving. We still have some stops to make tonight. I just wanted to say thanks for the food, it was amazing”
“Of course, anytime “I replied standing to see them out. The guys were in the living room watching the patriots kick the jets ass and apparently Paige and a few others were already gone. I looked around and realized Mel and Ray were nowhere to be found. As I walked through the hall, I could hear their voices in the kitchen bickering, but I couldn’t make out what they were saying. 
 “Well you lost your chance, I’m telling Rob” Melanie barked, just before I stepped in the kitchen. The energy was already tense, and by the look on Melanie’s face, I could tell all hell was about to break loose.
 “Telling me what?” I asked and Rayven jumped, her face turning as red as a damn strawberry. 
 “She’s full of shit” she blurted and tried to walk out. Melanie grabbed her arm, snatching her right back to where she was standing before.
“Look, I’m sorry I didn’t say something sooner, but the day I flew out to get you from the hospital, I caught Rayven and Chris fucking!” she answered, without wasting another second. It felt like my heart was about to beat out of my chest.
“What? “I asked making sure I heard her right.
“I know I should’ve said something a long time ago, but you’ve been through so much and, I didn’t want to be the bearer of bad news…but I’ll be damned if this bitch keeps disrespecting you by pretending she gives a fuck about you” Mel angrily confessed. Everything was finally starting to add up.
“Is it true?” I asked, turning towards Rayven.
“It’s not like y'all were still together. It was weeks after you played runaway bride, and it’s not like y'all are together now. Why does it even matter?” Rayven asked, shrugging her shoulders.
Without another word or thought, I balled my fist up and punched her in the face twice. Immediately, Melanie pushed me one way and Rayven the other direction. 
“Just leave! You shouldn’t have brought your fake ass here in the first place” she yelled.
Instead of doing as she was told, Rayven picked up the nearest glass and poured it in Melanie’s face before chunking it in my direction. Thankfully she missed, but that didn't stop me from throwing my phone at her, and hitting her right in the forehead. When the glass shattered, everyone who was still here was in the kitchen in a matter of seconds. Before Mel had the chance to jump on Ray, Jermaine was holding her back.
“Get your girl the fuck out” I yelled at Jay and he quickly obliged. It only took him a second to get her out the front door. I was beyond embarrassed, without a word I headed upstairs to shower. It hurt my heart that Chris would stoop as low as fucking my cousin. After everything he had done that caused me to “runaway” in the first place, he still found a way to do more. As I let the steaming hot water run down my body, I realized I had no fucks left to give. It hurt, but I couldn’t drop a single tear.
MELANIE
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The wonderful feeling I had when I got to Robyn’s was completely diminished. I couldn’t believe Rayven had the audacity to show up for one. She must’ve thought I was bluffing when I said I was telling Robyn the truth before the year was up. Then she had the nerve to try and fight back. She should’ve took her couple of punches and left. She knew she deserved them. I apologized to the few people that were around long enough to witness what went down. With Jermaine and Frankie’s help, I cleaned up the mess from the fight and party before going upstairs to check on Robyn.
“It’s me” I called softly after knocking on her door twice with no reply.
“Go away” she yelled through the door.
I felt horrible at the way she found out, but the secret was eating me alive. I hated keeping that from her, especially with Rayven having no intentions of telling the truth. I opened her room door anyway and let myself in. I sent everyone else home and locked up, I wasn’t leaving her alone tonight.
“I hope you aren’t mad at me” I stated as I sat on her bed. She was laying on her stomach with her face in the pillow, and Ollie at her feet.
“I can’t believe you knew about this for the past 6 months and ain’t said shit” she admitted, sitting up abruptly.
“So, you’re telling me that if I left the man I was going to marry, had a nervous breakdown, then a car wreck, losing my first child, that you would have still told me some fucked up shit like that?” I asked, and she shrugged.
“I guess you’re right… But still why would he do that it’s just not him” she continued.
“Let’s keep it real, you don’t know Chris. He hid so many secrets and lies and there was probably so much he never told you. You need to let it go, you have to let him go.” I advised.
“I don’t know how” she admitted.
“I wish I could tell you. I hate everything he put you through, and as for Rayven, that’s not family. You don’t use and abuse family like that.” She nodded in agreement before opening a drawer and pulling out a blunt.
“You wanna help me put my Christmas tree up?” she asked, changing the subject.
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It was damn near morning by the time we were finished, and we had no intentions of going to sleep. We drank some more, smoked another blunt, and put on some Christmas music. It started with the tree, but we ended up putting decorations all over the house. She was always such a holiday person and I was glad to see her laughing and smiling again. I just hoped it wasn’t only because of the weed. She was smoking more and more, which wasn’t a problem. I just hoped she wasn’t relying on it to heal her. I kept my distance for awhile because of the mess I wanted Rayven to own up to, now that it was out, I would make sure to be here to help her get through whatever else comes her way. That’s what sisters are for. 
ROBYN
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It had been a whole week since the Rayven incident. I wanted to forget the shit, but it was still on my mind, except when I was high. She called me once and I didn’t answer, so she decided to leave me a long ass, stupid message about how sorry she was. I decided the best thing to do was to keep my distance, which is what I was telling Jacques now while we were grabbing a bite to eat.
“She’s going through it” he explained, talking about Rayven. “I have never seen her like this”
“And you think I’m not?” I asked offended. “She did this, and it’s not the first time. I let it slide before because she was a kid. A hoe in the making. I’m not letting it go this time and I don’t want to talk about it anymore” I practically yelled.
“I’m sorry” he replied, making me feel bad for raising my voice at him.
“Look, I don’t mean to take it out on you. I’d just rather talk about something else…. like the kiss we shared” I smiled. It’s been on my mind since it happened, and after the news Rayven gave me, I was ready to see what this could turn into. Jacques was a great guy and when I got to know him, I realized how much we just clicked. “We haven’t talked since that night and you have been hard to get a hold of.”
“Jackie!” a woman squealed out of nowhere and his head spun in her direction.  She appeared to be in her twenties, a white girl who was gorgeous and had curves for days. I could see his face light up when they made eye contact.
“Come here girl” he smiled widely as he jumped up to hug her. “Man, it’s been ages” he beamed looking her up and down.
“It’s been eleven months” she corrected him with a smile.  I just watched dumbfoundedly waiting for him to either invite her to join us or introduce her, so I cleared my throat to speed up the process.
“My bad, this is an old friend of mine, Kylie. We go way back” he winked, and she couldn’t help but blush.
“Kylie this is Robyn” we both said hi and she quickly turned her attention back to him.
“My mom and sisters are over there,” she pointed to the back of the restaurant. “you better come say hi”
“Oh, the whole clan is here?” he asked, and she replied with a nod. He turned to me and said he’d be back in a minute before taking off with her. Ten minutes later, my food was finished, and I was ready to leave. Just when I was about to call him, he came back to the table and apologized for leaving like he did.
“Where were we?” he asked, finishing the sandwich he left with two bites.
“I wanted to talk about that kiss” I reminded him.
“Yeah, I’ve been meaning to apologize for that. You were feeling vulnerable, so I understand. I know I was trying hard to pursue you when we first met, but after getting to know you I realize that we are better off as friends. I don’t want to fuck that up by going ‘there’ with you” he admitted.
Just like that, everything I thought I felt in that kiss flew out the window.
“So, how was that date?” Melanie asked after Jacques brought me back to work. She was grinning as if she’d found out my secret and it was really annoying me.
“Really Mel? I told you we aren’t dating. In fact, that was probably the last time we’ll be kicking it. I don’t want to associate with anyone who’s associating with Rayven.” I rolled my eyes. That obviously wasn’t the real reason I was cutting him off, but it was a good enough one to get Mel off my back.
“I feel ya…ugh, why don’t she just go back to Barbados?” she asked with a frown.
“I don’t care where she goes, as long as she stays away from me” I replied as I put up my purse. “You should’ve told me you were coming, I should’ve just had lunch with you today anyway���Why didn’t you call?”
“Oh, I just left a meeting with a potential client. I’m going to be planning a New Year’s Eve party for one of Jermaine’s friends.”
“So, I guess that means you aren’t coming home with me once again?” I asked, and she quickly shook her head. “Mama will cuss me out, I’m not missing two years in a row” she laughed. “Besides, Jermaine needs to meet the family” Just talking about Bim made me happy. I couldn’t wait to spend some time with my family, and after all the drama, I finally had something to look forward to. The countdown had officially begun. 
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idornaseminary · 6 years
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Chapter One-Hundred Fifteen: Mel and Enzo
“I tell ya, walking in on your 10 year-old levitating a bunch of knickknacks like she’s Criss Angel is a bit of a shock.”
Enzo, Mel and Gavin were sitting at the kitchen table, cheap bottles of beer in each hand. They’d spent the day in the city, checking out the harbour and some of the shopping centres. Mel could tell Enzo was probably going through a bit of a culture shock. She was sure he probably hadn’t spent much time in the muggle world.
That was why she made sure to show him around some of the well-hidden magic shops she’d stumbled upon during her teen years. Even a city like Halifax had a wizarding community, however small.
Mel gave Enzo an eye roll, hidden behind her beer bottle. “He probably doesn’t know who that is, Dad.”
The day out with Melanie and her father was nice, Enzo supposed. It is not what he once would have considered a vacation, the shopping centers small and eateries few, but Melanie seemed to be enjoying her time with Gavin, which was enjoyable enough. He felt bad half the time, dragging Melanie into this ordeal. She wasn’t playing Quidditch when the fallen fell, she had no direct ties to any of them, and she wasn’t a healer, so a vacation for her was somewhat of a weight off of his shoulders.
When they returned home to eat, Gavin began idle conversation about when he learned that Melanie was a witch. Enzo chuckled at Melanie speaking up for him. “It’s fine, Melanie. The French don’t understand a lot,” he said lightly as he took a sip from the cheap beer in his grasp, trying to deflect his knowledge of whatever angel they were talking about. Something from Muggle folklore, he assumed.  
“What about you, son?” Gavin asked, tipping his bottle towards him. “I assume you went to some fancy school like my Melanie here?”
Enzo nodded, setting the beer down and hoped he took enough sips of the stuff to not be considered rude for not finishing it. “In France, there is an academy called Beauxbatons,” he explained. “Similar to Ilvermorny, I assume. Magic teachings and such.”  
“A lot more pretentious, I’ve heard,” Mel teased, jabbing Enzo’s side with her elbow. “That friend of mine from tour, Ella. She went there too.”
Gavin nodded. “Ah I see. You seem to meet a lot of interesting folk touring the world like you do.”
There was a silence that lasted just half a second too long where Mel gave her father a tight-lipped smile. She knew he didn’t quite buy the stories she fed him to cover for attending Idorna, but at the very least he understood her enough not to pry. He was a free spirit, just like her.
“It’s the life of a rockstar,” she finally sighed, downing the rest of her beer. She leaned back on her chair, reaching into the fridge behind her to grab another. “Refills anyone?”
“Please.” Gavin mimicked the action, setting the empty bottle on the table with a clatter. 
“Enzo?”
Enzo’s stomach reached into his throat to speak for him at the offer of another. “I’m a bit of a lightweight,” he said, trying to keep his tone steady as he leaned back in his chair a bit. “Anything that is not a dark wine doesn’t take long to knock me off my feet. Again, French.” He explained it to Gavin, knowing Melanie would not care much. He looked back to Melanie. “Thank you, though, Mel.” He tacked on her nickname at the end, hearing Gavin say it made Enzo want to try, but the single syllable felt like cotton in his mouth.  
Gavin raised a finger and stood, heading downstairs into the basement without another word. Mel and Enzo exchanged quizzical looks, Mel’s twinged with an amused smile.
Gavin eventually re-emerged with a dark green bottle, a fancy label plastered to its surface and bearing a name in script so fancy that Mel couldn’t make it out from this far away.
“This one's a beaut, I’ve been told,” said Gavin, plopping it on the table in front of Enzo. He fished through the cupboard and pulled out perhaps the one wine glass the Winter family owned. “I got it as a present a while back, but I’ve never been much for the stuff. Go ahead, kid.”
Enzo smiled as Gavin placed the bottle and glass in front of him, looking away from Melanie, where the moonlight peering in front the window illuminated her features. Stop.
“Thank you, sir - Gavin,” he corrected himself, remembering how Gavin told him to refer to him by his first name rather than ‘sir’ earlier in the day. He poured the rich looking wine from the bottle into this glass, flashbacks of the cellar in Chateau Bellerose coming to him, when he was fifteen and snuck down to drink an entire bottle of wine on his own. Gilly had to hide him away in his room, nursing him with what little magic she possessed before Maxime found out.
Enzo sniffed the wine, the familiar scent enveloping him. He tipped the glass back, the wine spilling over his tongue and down his throat. He placed the glass down, nodding at Gavin. “It’s amazing,” he said with a smile. “Thank you.”
“I’m glad someone will get some enjoyment out of it,” said Gavin, smiling at him. He took a long swig from his beer, smacking his lips together. “Tell me Enzo, were you a surprise like Mel or did your parents have some warning on the whole magic thing?”
Mel shot her father a harsh glare. “Dad.”
Gavin stared at her cluelessly, his usual sharp wit dulled by booze.
Enzo gripped the fabric of his jeans under the table at the mention of his parents, but remained otherwise unbothered. He looked over over at Melanie, shaking his head. “It’s fine, Melanie,” he said with a tight-lipped smile.
He looked over to Gavin, clearly affected by the alcohol. “They were both magical, yes, so I knew it was coming,” he replied, praying the conversation did not go beyond that.
Mel silently willed her father not to press the subject further, and by some miracle he complied.
“Have you ever been on a boat, Enzo?” her father asked, an apology for something he didn’t understand lacing his tone.
Enzo kissed his teeth as he placed the wine glass down, now only half full. “Not really, no,” he said, wondering if what he thought was going to be said next was going to be a reality. He hated open water, even having a hard time looking at Lake Gler from Old Aroon.
Gavin must have sensed his discomfort a bit. “Well, it’s much too late in the season to go sailing, but how about we eat lunch on the boat tomorrow? I can give you the grand tour, so to speak.”
Mel raised her eyebrow at Enzo, watching his knuckles whiten as they tightened around the stem of his wine glass.
Enzo set his jaw, determined to not worry about boats or anything of the like. “That would be nice,” he said, realizing how formal he sounded around the Canadians. “I’d like that.”
He looked at Melanie out of the corner of his eye, her expression seeming to be caught somewhere between content and concern.
“Great! Now then, I’d best get to bed,” said Gavin, stifling a yawn and pushing away from the table. “Don’t stay up too late.” He kissed the top of Mel’s head before retreating down the hall to his bedroom.
“You really don’t have to come if you don’t want to,” said Mel, fighting a smile.
Enzo shrugged as Gavin left, looking to Melanie. How he kissed her head, was that common? Was that simply a Canadian custom? “It will be fun,” he said, deciding that he would not let any dumb fears get in the way of Melanie having an enjoyable vacation. “Thank you, again, for inviting me along. This is nice, Melanie.”
Mel smiled, feeling warmth rise in her chest. Even if he was faking it for her sake, it felt nice to hear him say he was enjoying this.
“Probably beats studying or working or whatever it was you were really going to do,” she said.
Enzo snorted, finishing his glass of wine and standing up, bringing it over to the sink where he ran water through it. “It wasn’t a complete lie,” he said, drying the glass and putting it back where it was when Gavin took it. “I am sure I would have opened a book once or twice.”
“Well, I’m glad you decided to come,” said Mel, her teasing smile giving way to a genuine one. She stood, tossing her empty bottles into the blue recycling bin by the door. She called over her shoulder as she headed down the hall, “Thanks, Enzo. Goodnight!”
“Goodnight, Melanie,” he said as she departed the dining room for the evening, leaving Enzo alone. He sighed, making sure the table was clean of any crumbs before pushing all of the chairs in and heading to the spare room Gavin and graciously set up for him.
A week went by, and Mel gradually saw Enzo begin to unwind even further. They spent most nights playing muggle card games with Gavin at the table, spending their days exploring the city Mel had grown up in. Several times Mel tried to convince Enzo to go clubbing, but it was a lost cause that she mostly pursued for her own amusement.
It was nice. Mel was glad for once not to have to worry about some kind of looming threat, instead just soaking in the peace of being home.
One afternoon, Gavin was down working at the docks, meaning Mel and Enzo had the cottage to themselves. Enzo had immersed himself in one of Gavin’s old nautical novels, while Mel sang to herself in the kitchen, whipping up some lunch for the two of them.
Peace. It was something Enzo had not experienced in some time. Even before the calamity at Idorna, peace and quiet was hard for Enzo to come by. There was always something bothering him. However, now, with his nose in one of Gavin’s Muggle books and the smell of a savory meal coming from the kitchen where Melanie cooked, he felt at ease, his shoulders losing their tense demeanor.
That was, of course, until he heard the distinct snap of someone apparating. He looked up from his book, his heart hammering in his chest at the thought of Chantal possibly finding him in the Muggle world, but when he saw a familiar face standing just feet before him, his lips parted in confusion.
“Gilly?” he said, placing the book down beside him and standing.
There she was, the Bellerose’s personal House Elf. She was small, wrinkled, and weathered. She wore a royal blue cloth over her body, but the colour had nearly faded into a grey.
“Oh! Master Bellerose! You look… you look so old!” she spoke in French.   
Mel heard a mild commotion coming from the living room. She poked her head around the corner.
“What’s going…?” she trailed off when she saw the small, wrinkled house elf standing in front of Enzo. Spatula still in hand, she pointed it towards the elf. “Uh, am I hallucinating or is there a house elf in my living room?”
Enzo did not know how to respond to seeing Gilly before him, apparating into a small cabin in Canada of all places. He had not seen her since he was eighteen, watching her well up with tears behind Maxime as Enzo turned his back on them for what he thought would be forever. Clearly forever wasn’t even a decade.
Gilly turned, looking at Melanie. “Oh, pretty girl! Is this where you have been hiding out, sir?” she said in French once more, but quickly changed over to English when she registered Melanie’s shock. “Nice to meet you, miss! I am Gilly the House Elf. I am an old friend of Master Bellerose’s.” She bowed at Melanie, grinning.
Mel’s lips pulled into a smile, offering her own sort of curtsy back.
“Melanie Winter,” she said. “I’m also an old friend. It’s nice to meet you! What brings you all the way here?”
“Yes, good question,” Enzo said, folding his arms over his chest as his eyebrows knitted themselves together inquisitively.
At first, it was nice to see Gilly again. She was more of a mother to him than Colette ever was, and she was the only one who cried when Enzo left their life. She was kind and caring without suffocating him, and he spent most of his downtime with her, playing hide and seek in the chateau or simply following her around as she did housework.
Gilly looked between the two, making idle kissy sounds before explaining herself. “I am only here because I was told to, see,” she said, nodding rapidly as if she has a disorder. “Master Bellerose, your father, the - erm - other Master Bellerose seeks your presence. He actually has been for the last month, but you seemed to drop off the face of the earth, see! I could not find you - until a few days ago, that is!”
“My presence?” Enzo said, looking from Gilly to Melanie, then back to Gilly. “Why? What does he want?” he spat angrily.
Mel recoiled at the sudden shift in Enzo’s tone. She’d seen him displeased before, sure. He always existed in a state of cold aloofness. But she’d rarely seen him actually angry.
“Oh, don’t be so upset, Master Bellerose!” Gilly said, waving her unnaturally long fingers in his direction. “You are going to scare your wife.”
“Enough,” Enzo said, his voice louder than usual. “Answer my question, Gilly. That’s an order.” He usually tried to be calm and patient with her, knowing she babbled often, but at the mention of his father, he wanted nothing more than to scream at her.
Gilly recoiled, taking a few steps closer to the doorframe of the kitchen where Melanie stood. Gilly wrapped one of her arms around Melanie’s leg, as if Enzo were the antagonist here. “You see, Master Bellerose… The other Master Bellerose is not well. He… he is… you see… Well, I am not sure how I should be saying -”
“Gilly.”
“He is dying, I am afraid… sir… see...”
Enzo’s throat constricted at her words, and it felt like he had just been struck with the killing curse. He took a step backwards, his calf touching the chair he was previously sitting in. Dying? The thought had always been in the back of Enzo’s mind, what with Maxime’s heavy drinking, but having it be said to him was hard to process.
He looked at Gilly, his face stone cold. “How long does he have?”
Gilly clung onto Melanie’s leg as if it were her lifeline. “The doctors, see…. Well, they are not sure of it. Possibly six months, possibly longer… possibly shorter…”  
Mel’s heart had climbed into her throat. She was speechless. Instinctively, her hand rested gently on Gilly’s head, though she knew the house elf wasn’t the one who truly needed comforting right now.
If Enzo needed it at all, that was. She knew so little of his family that she had no idea how Enzo could even remotely be feeling right now.
“Enzo…” she finally, said, but the single word got caught in her throat and came out as something dangerously close to a sob.
Enzo looked at Melanie first, noting how close to tears she was. Maxime was not worth her tears - he wasn’t worth anyone’s time, let alone sorrow.
“He does not need me,” he said back to Gilly in French so Melanie could not understand him. “Tell him that if he is dying, his son will be able to breathe easier.”
“Master Bellerose…”
“That is an order,” he said back, still in French. “Now go home.”
Gilly let a tear drop over her eyelid, but nodded in understanding. She stepped away from Melanie, smiling sadly at her before she apparated back to Chateau Bellerose.
The absence where Gilly once stood had a mass of its own, a heavy weight in the air that made it hard for Mel to speak or even look at Enzo. Still, she forced herself to do both.
“You can’t really mean that,” she whispered.
Enzo looked up at her, furrowing his eyebrows before it hit him. She was Canadian. It was not uncommon. “You speak French… of course.”
“I mean, enough. I got the gist of it.” She wrapped her arms around herself, perching on the arm of a nearby recliner. “He’s your father, Enzo. Whatever happened…”
Enzo turned away from Melanie, not wanting to hear anyone talk about Maxime in a way that was redeemable. He walked into the spare room, packing away his belongings into a suitcase, his teeth clenched together so hard that he could feel them groaning in agony.
Mel followed after him, feeling her stomach twist. “Enzo, what are you doing?”
“I’m going back to Lille,” he spat, zipping up his suitcase and grabbing his wand with his free hand, turning back to see Melanie in his way. “This was all a mistake and I am sorry for dragging you into this. Tell your father that I am sorry for leaving on short notice and that I am thankful for his hospitality. I will see you back at Idorna.”  
“No,” she said firmly, standing her ground. Never mind that Enzo towered over her. Her sympathy was eclipsed by a sudden anger building in her gut. “Fuck that. I’m not letting you just run and hide like that.”
“What does it matter to you, Melanie?” he said, feeling anger rise in his chest, doing everything he could to keep it down. “You hardly know me.”
“And who’s fault is that Enzo? You’ve never even given me a chance!” Her voice peaked in desperation. “If you’d stop being so angry at the world for more than five seconds you’d realize there are people that actually care about you.”
Enzo huffed, his frustration almost making him shove her aside, but he knew better. He shook his head. “There is too much for me to go over with you right now that will make you understand that I cannot be within a mile of that man.”
“So that’s it? You’re just going to let what’s probably years of unresolved bullshit just fizzle out into nothing? You’re really going to live with yourself forever not even giving him a final word?”
“I…” he had a million reasons for not wanting to go back to the chateau, but looking at Melanie now - at her determination - he couldn’t think of them.
He sat back down on the bed, dropping his suitcase to the floor beside him. “Melanie,” he spoke her name softly, trying to stop his jaw from quivering. “It was a long time ago. I don’t even know if he really wants to see me. If he is dying, who knows how delusional he is? He probably just remembers that he has a son out there and…” He didn’t want to finish the thought, instead sighing and placing his hands over his face as he bowed his head.
Her anger subsided, the sympathy rising back to take its place. She moved to stand in front of him, squeezing his shoulder.
“Then what’s the harm?” she asked softly. “Whatever he’s done to make you hate him so much, can’t you push aside for one moment just to be the bigger person?”
He snorted, shaking his head slowly at her touch, feeling like her warmth seeped through his shirt and into his skin. “If I see him, I might lose control.”  
Mel chewed her lip, thinking for a moment.
“What if I came along?”
Enzo looked back up at her, his eyes widening slightly. “Non,” he said quickly. “No, Melanie. You have your father here, and he only gets to see you during this break.”
“It’s okay,” she said with a shrug. “He’ll understand. He and I will have a full summer together, and this week with him was more than I could have ever hoped for. It’s...it’s the least I could do for you.”
After I could have killed you, she almost added, but decided against it. It was probably implicit.
Enzo’s shoulders dropped, and he could slowly feel the walls being torn down by Melanie’s compassion. It almost stung, how soft her words were, how much she cared.
“You’ll hate it,” he simply said. “Every second.”
She shrugged again, a small smile playing on her lips.
“Maybe I will. You’ll just have to keep feeding me some of that fancy French wine you’re so partial to.”
Enzo could not help but smile, a small chuckle escaping his lips as he looked to Melanie, standing a few feet in front of him, hand still on his shoulder. She had a pair of eyes one had a hard time saying ‘no’ to.
“Are you sure?”
She nodded. “I’m certain. I won’t let you go through this alone, Enzo Bellerose.”
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