The quiet hum of the car engine was the only sound that filled the space between Melanie and Dana as they drove through the winding Sicilian roads. The picturesque view outside the window—rolling hills, quaint villages, and sun-dappled olive trees—was almost a cruel contrast to the storm brewing inside her.
Melanie hadn't been the same since the gala. Rhys' presence had shaken her in ways she couldn't explain, igniting something deep within her—a fire she'd been so careful to bury. And then there was Steven. His quiet persistence, his calculating eyes—they made her feel something she wasn't ready to face.
Tonight, she was supposed to relax, take a breath. But everything inside her felt like it was about to break.
"Are you sure you're okay, Mel?" Dana asked, glancing over at her.
Melanie's jaw clenched, her fingers tightening on the steering wheel. "I'm fine," she muttered. "Just tired."
Dana didn't buy it, but she didn't press. She'd learned when to let Melanie have her space. But the tension in the car was palpable, thick with unsaid words and emotions neither of them were ready to address.
Without warning, a car appeared from nowhere, barreling toward them from around the bend.
"Mel, watch out!" Dana screamed, but it was too late.
The screech of tires on asphalt, the gut-wrenching sound of metal grinding against metal, and then—darkness.
---
Melanie awoke in an unfamiliar, sterile white room, the dull beep of machines filling the air. Pain lanced through her body as she tried to move, her head spinning. Her heart raced as she realized where she was.
The hospital.
"Dana?" she croaked, but her voice was weak, distant. Her throat was raw, her body battered.
"She's fine, Mel," a voice said, and for a moment, Melanie thought she was dreaming. But when her eyes locked onto the familiar face, the warmth of it both terrified and comforted her.
Rhys.
His face was etched with concern, but there was something else in his eyes—a mix of anger and fear. The sight of him made her feel vulnerable in a way she hadn't felt before. It broke something inside her, something she didn't want to break.
"You're awake," he said, his voice rough. "Thank God."
Melanie tried to sit up but winced as pain shot through her side. She looked around, the memories of the accident flooding back. "What happened? How bad is it?" she asked, her voice trembling.
Rhys didn't answer immediately. His eyes darted to the door, his jaw tightening. He seemed to be holding himself back, fighting some internal battle. Finally, his gaze returned to her, softer now.
"You're lucky, Mel. It could've been much worse. Dana's fine, just shaken up. But you…" He stopped, his eyes darkening. "You've got some broken ribs, a concussion. Nothing too serious, but enough to keep you here for a few days."
Melanie felt a pang of guilt twist in her chest. Dana had been hurt because of her. "Is she okay?" she asked again, her voice barely above a whisper.
Rhys nodded. "She's fine. But she's worried about you, too."
Melanie nodded but didn't know what to say. The truth was, she wasn't sure how to feel. The accident had shattered something in her—something she didn't realize was fragile. She was used to being in control, used to being untouchable. But lying there, broken and helpless, she felt all of that crumble.
"Why are you here?" she asked, her words catching in her throat as they spilled out. She hadn't expected him to be here—not in her hospital room, not after everything that had happened between them.
Rhys didn't answer right away. Instead, he stepped closer, his presence suddenly overwhelming. The intensity of his gaze burned through her, and for the first time, Melanie felt her defenses crumble.
"I couldn't leave you like this, Mel," he said quietly. "You might not believe it, but I care about you."
Melanie's breath hitched. The words stung, but they weren't the words she wanted to hear. She didn't want to feel vulnerable. She didn't want to be dependent on anyone, especially not him.
She looked away, trying to compose herself, but a sudden rush of emotion hit her like a tidal wave. It had all built up—her anger, her fear, her frustration. The years of fighting for control, the loneliness, the constant push and pull between herself and everyone around her.
And she couldn't hold it in any longer.
Tears blurred her vision, the salty sting of them cutting through the rage inside her. She wiped at her eyes furiously, as if she could will them away, but they kept coming, hotter and faster.
"Mel…" Rhys stepped forward, his hand hovering over hers, unsure whether to touch her. But Melanie didn't care. She needed him. In this moment, she needed him more than she'd ever admit.
"Why does it feel like everything I try to control always slips away?" she sobbed, her body trembling. "I thought I had it all figured out, Rhys. But now… now I don't know who I am anymore. I'm not the woman I thought I was. I'm not strong. I'm just… scared."
Her words came out in a broken whisper, her breath uneven as she struggled to make sense of the storm swirling inside her. She had never allowed herself to feel so exposed, so vulnerable, not even in front of Dana. But here, with Rhys standing so close, her walls came crashing down.
Rhys's expression softened, his face tightening with concern. He sat down next to her, his hand gently brushing the strands of hair from her face. "You don't have to be strong all the time, Mel. You're human. You're allowed to feel."
Melanie shook her head, a bitter laugh escaping her lips. "I don't know how to feel anymore. I don't know what I'm supposed to want or who I'm supposed to be."
For the first time, Rhys didn't try to fix her. He didn't offer any grand solutions or tell her everything would be okay. He just sat there, his hand on hers, silent and steady.
And for the first time in a long time, Melanie allowed herself to fall apart.
---
The night passed in a blur of sleepless hours, the beeping of the machines the only sound that kept Melanie company. Rhys stayed with her, his presence a constant, even as she drifted in and out of sleep. His hand never left hers, grounding her, even in the chaos inside her mind.
As the night wore on, Melanie fell into an uneasy slumber. But even in her dreams, Rhys's eyes haunted her. She was no longer sure where the line between love, hate, and need began.