The morning sun greeted Melisa like an overly enthusiastic acquaintance—bright, intrusive, and entirely unwelcome. She sat quietly on the edge of the bed, letting the light pool over her skin, waiting for the chaos of the day to catch up.
The bathroom door clicked open. Leonard emerged, his hair still damp from the shower, a towel slung over his shoulder like he was filming a commercial for expensive cologne. Their eyes met for half a second before Melisa looked away, utterly unimpressed.
Yes, she'd seen that face before—many times, in fact. No, it didn't do anything for her anymore.
After dressing up, she headed downstairs for breakfast. The table was already lively—well, if one considered forced politeness and veiled tension lively. Aunt Eleanor was still upstairs, which meant the peace was fragile.
Curiously, Ivonne didn't sit beside Leonard this time. Maybe even she had finally realized that fake proximity didn't equal romantic progress.
"Leo… Leonard, why do you have dark circles under your eyes?" Ivonne's voice was all sugar and silk, the kind of concern that made you want to develop a sudden case of selective hearing.
Melisa glanced up. True, she'd noticed them earlier. But unlike Ivonne, she had the good sense not to broadcast it like breaking news.
Leonard looked like he wanted to pretend the question never existed, but with Aunt Eleanor's expectant gaze locked onto him, he gave in.
"It's nothing. Just had some work to finish last night," he said flatly. "Slept late."
Melisa nearly snorted into her coffee. Sure. And pigs flew in business class now. If she hadn't shared the same room with him, she might've bought that. But knowing the truth made it entertaining—how effortlessly he spun a lie, even when it wasn't necessary.
Before anyone could redirect the conversation, Aunt Eleanor finally joined them, sitting down with a warm but deliberate smile.
"There's a party tonight," she announced. "Leo, I'd like Melisa to accompany you."
The silence that followed wasn't awkward. It was loaded.
Melisa paused mid-sip. Oh, so that was today.
"Aunt Eleanor, he can also bring his secretary," she said sweetly, like she wasn't subtly trying to escape. "We're not exactly the 'happily ever after' type. Wouldn't want to mislead the poor investors."
Ivonne chirped up, tone light but eyes gleaming with something darker. "Aunt, Melisa might be busy. I'll be going anyway, so no need to worry."
Oh, now that was smooth. Pretend support while slipping in her own application for +1. Classic.
Melisa gave her a sideways look. Subtlety was a dying art these days.
Leonard's expression darkened. His voice was cool but clipped. "There's no need. I can manage alone."
"Why not Ivonne?" Tristan interjected lazily, sipping his drink like it was just another morning. His tone was casual, but his eyes? Calculated.
Leonard's stare could've melted steel. Tristan just offered a shrug, all innocent charm.
Aunt Eleanor wasn't buying it.
"She's your wife, Leo. Why would you need anyone else?" Her words were firm, but her gaze pleaded—not just as a mother-in-law, but as someone who, for once, was choosing Melisa.
Melisa hesitated.
This marriage was doomed. A ticking time bomb wrapped in designer gift paper. And yet... Aunt Eleanor had never asked her for anything before.
So, for the first time in forever, she chose to yield.
"Alright," she said. "Just tell me what time I should be ready."
She didn't smile. She didn't try to make it look like a romantic gesture. She simply met Leonard's eyes and waited.
He held her gaze for a beat longer than necessary. "Seven."
Melisa nodded. "Got it."
She turned to leave, but his voice called out again. "Melisa."
She glanced over her shoulder, one brow raised in polite indifference.
He opened his mouth like he might say something that actually mattered—but then decided against it. Typical.
"Eat something before you go. You won't get much time to eat there."
She paused. Not out of surprise, but calculation. The concern was buried under layers of indifference, but it was there, peeking through.
"I will."
Aunt Eleanor chuckled softly. "Don't worry, Leo. I'll make some soup for both of you before you leave."
And there it was. The quiet support Melisa never asked for but couldn't help noticing.
Ivonne's smile wavered. Just for a split second, but enough to catch.
"Aunt, I should also head home today," she said sweetly, hoping—begging—for Aunt Eleanor to say something like Stay longer, dear.
What she got instead was a polite, "Greet your mom for me."
The silence after that was… exquisite.
Ivonne blinked, smile stretched too wide. "I will, Aunt."
Melisa stood. "I'll be leaving too."
She offered Ivonne a nod—polite, cold, dismissive—and walked off without glancing back.
Leonard's jaw tensed as he watched her leave.
Ivonne turned, composure intact but hands clenched at her sides. "I should get ready too. See you tonight, Leonard."
He didn't reply.
She didn't expect him to.
But tonight, Ivonne had a plan. She'd make sure Melisa learned her place—and that place wouldn't be beside Leonard.