What the fig?
There was more but Sloane couldn’t read another word. He felt like the earth was shifting under his feet. Another man? Impossible.
And the more he thought about it, the more he realized that it really was impossible. Melanie couldn’t have someone else in her life. Where the hell would she have found the time?
Between her hectic schedule, running Parker Broadcasting and her constant trips to Boston in her desperate effort to conceive, there was no way she could have fit an affair in between all that. There was definitely another story, the real story, and he was going to find out what it was.
Sloane picked up the phone by the bed and dialed Melanie’s cell phone number. No answer. He slammed the receiver back down.
Logically, she must have gone back to the house she owned in Westmount, her home before she’d gotten married. She hadn’t sold it and he knew the caretaker was still there. That was where he would start. If she didn’t want to talk to him on the phone then she’d have to talk to him face to face.
After his flight from Europe Sloane was dead tired but there was no way he was going to let this wait until morning. He jumped into his Benz and hit the highway at top speed, never easing up until he screeched into the dimly lit driveway of Melanie’s old home. He hopped out of the car and ran up the steps to ring the doorbell. As the chimes echoed in the house he waited, shifting from one foot to the other, his insides wound so tight it was like they’d snap at any moment.
A whole minute passed and no-one came to the door. He rang the doorbell again and thirty seconds later he was pressing it again. And after that he pressed the button over and over and over, filling the house with incessant chimes until finally a light came on in the hallway and the door opened to reveal Melanie, her eyes looking big and bruised, her mouth defiant.
“Didn’t you see my note?” She folded her arms and planted her body in the doorway. “Why are you here?”
“I’m here to take you home.”
She straightened her back and glared at him. “Didn’t you read what I wrote? There’s no more ‘us’, Sloane. And I’m already home, right where I belong.”
“You belong with me,” he growled. “Now let me come in so we can talk about this like adults.”
She sucked in her breath. “What part of ‘we’re over’ don’t you understand? There’s no use talking. I’ve made up my mind.”
“Melanie, you either get in the car now or let me in so we can talk.”
“I’m done talking.” As she said the words she was stepping back and pushing the door closed in his face.
Sloane was not having it. There was no way he was leaving there without his wife. He jammed his foot in the entrance just in time to stop the door from slamming shut then he planted a hand on the heavy mahogany and pushed.
Melanie stumbled back with a gasp of anger. “You can’t do this,” she snarled. “I don’t want to talk.”
“You’re talking,” he growled and before she could sprint away he clasped her upper arm and steered her into the living room. “Now sit and talk.”
She sat but she did not talk. She sat there glaring up at him, her mouth set in a mutinous pout.
Sloane remained standing, arms folded, staring down at her. “I’ll stay here all night if I have to. The quicker you start talking, the quicker we can get this over with.”
She just sat there, her lips tight, and even when he still stood there watching her she would not speak. It took about three minutes of this stand-off before an agonized sigh finally escaped her lips. “I don’t want to fight, Sloane. I just want to end this.”
Her words sliced into him. How the hell had they gone from a happy marriage to this? “Why?”
“Because…” She dropped her eyes and twisted her hands in her lap. “Because I’ve found someone else.”
“Don’t give me that bullshit. I want the truth.”
Melanie’s body jerked and her eyes flew to his. She was obviously startled by his outburst but he didn’t give a damn. He was done with this game.
“I want out…” she said, her voice trailing off.
“Why?” he asked again. “What did I do to make you want to leave?”
She shook her head as she stared up at him, her eyes big and bright with unshed tears. “Nothing. It’s all me. I’m just no good.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” Confused and frustrated, Sloane shoved his hands deep inside his pocket and expelled his breath. “What’s going on in that head of yours? And why would you make up a story about some fake man in your life? Are you so desperate to get away from me?”
“I wanted a clean break,” she said, her voice tearful. “I thought that would do it. If I told you the real reason you might try to make me stay.” She shook her head. “But I can’t, Sloane. It’s not fair to you.”
Sloane dropped down onto the couch beside her. “What is this real reason? Tell me.”
She swallowed then drew in a deep breath. “I…can’t have your baby. I’ll never be able to give you an heir.” She sucked in her breath on a sob. “Don’t you see? It’s not fair to you. You need a future. I can’t give you that but someone else can.”
“Melanie, Melanie, Melanie. What am I going to do with you?” Sloane shook his head. “Don’t you understand? You’re the best thing that ever happened to me.” He reached out and cupped her chin, forcing her to look into his eyes. “Baby or no baby, I want you in my life. I love you, Melanie. Don’t leave me. Please.”
Melanie blinked and her eyes grew wide. “You…love me?”
“Yes,” he said, releasing her chin. Now that he had her full attention he just wanted her to know the truth. His truth. “I love you more than anything. More than your dream of having a baby.” He reached down to take her hand in his. “When I asked you to marry me it was you I wanted, not your promise of a baby. I married you for you.”