Pretty Ever After (Chicago Nights Book 3)

by Tabatha Kiss

  She catches her breath, obviously still very high on adrenaline herself.

  Again, I nod. It’s all I’ve been able to do for a while now. “I’ve heard that,” I mutter as I set the cold coffee down on the floor by my ankle.

  Trix looks at me from the chair next to Nora. She’s been mostly silent this whole time as Nora recounts the entire thing, only interjecting to clarify a detail or two here and there. “He was really brave,” she says, calm as standing water.

  Was. He was brave.

  I’ve referred to Robbie in the past tense so many times before, but tonight is the first time it hurts this much.

  I swallow the tears. “Where’s Alex now?” I ask.

  “He’s in custody,” Trix answers. “Lance is there now. He’s doing what he can to make sure he stays there this time.”

  “Good,” I say.

  Trix slides off her chair and walks over to sit in the empty one beside me. “Listen, Melanie,” she says as she tucks her legs beneath her. “I’m so sorry. I shouldn’t have kept that secret admirer stuff from you.”

  I smile. “It’s okay, Trix.”

  “No, it’s not. I knew I was being a bad friend, but I also saw how happy it made you, and I made a bad call. I’m truly sorry.”

  “I’m sorry, too,” I say.

  “And I wasn’t laughing at you. I really meant well, I swear.”

  “I know.”

  “I shouldn’t have said those things to you. I don’t think you’re a joke. Please, don’t hate me.”

  “Or me!” Nora adds. “I was just a bystander in all this.”

  I turn up my hand on the armrest, offering it to Trix. She takes it.

  “I don’t hate you guys,” I say. I stare down the hall at the doors marked for hospital personnel only. “There are more important things to worry about right now.”

  Trix pulls me closer. I rest my head on her tattooed shoulder as Nora shuffles over to sit on my right. She takes my other hand and the three of us sit in silence as we wait.

  Forty-Three

  Robbie

  Ouch.

  Well, this feels… unpleasant.

  My mouth is dry. My entire body is stiff. The air is cold and sterile. Voices murmur somewhere nearby, small and muted. Female. Definitely female.

  Melanie.

  My eyes twitch, desperate to open and see her face. The fatigue is almost too much, but I raise my eyelids just enough to let some light in.

  A gasp. “He’s waking up.”

  A shuffle of feet. Multiple females.

  “Hey, Robbie?”

  “Robbie? Can you hear us? Are you okay?”

  “Blink twice for yes.”

  “Good god, Nora, it’s not a brain injury.”

  “Still, you never know!”

  Fingers wrap around my right hand.

  “Chill out, guys.”

  There.

  That’s my Melanie.

  I squint to block out the harsh white lights above my bed. A hospital bed.

  Their faces slowly come into focus. Nora stands on my right with a large to-go cup of coffee in her hand. Trix leans in beside her, eager to get a good look at me over Nora’s shoulder.

  And Melanie. She cradles my left hand between hers, as warm and comforting as the smile on her face. While the others appear well-rested and dressed to impress, she’s looks tired and worn out. She’s been here a while.

  I look at each of them standing around my bed. All of my gals.

  I wet my raw lips. “Either I died and went to heaven or Melanie finally talked you ladies into that foursome,” I say.

  They deflate, relieved and annoyed.

  “Yeah, he’s fine,” Trix says, rolling her eyes.

  I try to laugh, but a heavy pressure in my chest stops me. I cough instead.

  “Ouch,” I groan.

  Melanie lays a hand on my shoulder. “Try not to move too much,” she says. “You’ve had surgery.”

  I eye the IV sticking out of the back of my right hand. “Lovely,” I say.

  Nora sighs, her eyes playfully scolding me. “You know, when you said you were going to pretend to be Batman, I didn’t think you were serious!”

  “You’ve got a lot to learn about men, Bubbles,” I say.

  She laughs, her eyes glistening. “I can’t believe you took a bullet for me.”

  “Yeah,” Trix says. “That was alpha as fuck, dude.”

  I attempt a nonchalant shrug. “Don’t act so surprised.” I cough again.

  Nora leans over and kisses my forehead. “Thank you,” she whispers. “I’ll never forget it.”

  I look at my hospital gown, feeling wretched and cold, but at least I’m alive.

  At least Melanie is here.

  I try to squeeze her hand. She squeezes me back.

  “Alex is in jail, by the way,” Trix says.

  “Oh, good,” I say. “I was hoping.”

  “No deals, no mercy this time. And if they set him loose again, he won’t make it past the sidewalk.”

  I chuckle at the joke, but that vicious glint in Trix’s dark eyes says it’s probably not a joke. Pissing off the princess of the Argento crime family was the last mistake this guy will ever make, that’s for sure.

  “Thanks,” is all I can say.

  She pats my knee. “Don’t mention it, big guy. Seriously, this conversation never happened.”

  I look at Melanie’s downturn eyes. “You’re awfully quiet,” I say.

  She presses her dry lips together. “Not much to say.”

  “That’s a first.”

  Her smile is brief, but pained.

  Nora takes a step back. “We’ll go let the nurses know you’re awake,” she says, nudging Trix’s arm.

  “Right.” Trix takes the hint. “Get some more coffee, too. You want?”

  Melanie shakes her head. “No, I’m okay,” she says.

  She’s not okay.

  “If I pass out before you get back,” I say, “thanks for being here, ladies.”

  Nora and Trix grin as they link arms and exit the room together.

  Melanie’s silence continues. Her eyes fall and she stares at our intertwined fingers for a few moments more.

  Her throat clears as she sits up a little. “I gave Roger the keys to your place,” she says slowly. “He’s going to grab some things for you, since you might be here a while. The doctor wants to keep you under observation for a few days.”

  I nod. “All right.”

  “You have two broken ribs,” she continues, swallowing hard.

  “Oh, that’s not too bad.”

  “And a punctured lung.”

  I wince. “Ah.”

  “I’ve already talked to your supervisor. He said they’d hold your slot through the end of March, so you don’t have to worry about losing your job.”

  “Well, that’s good,” I say, feeling numb.

  “The doctor thinks you’ll be back on your feet long before then, so long as you don’t strain yourself too much.”

  I glare at the IV again. “Is this morphine?” I ask.

  Melanie nods. “I asked if it were possible for you to go without and he said that you’d have to be a real stubborn bastard to do that.” She briefly smiles, then lets it fall again. “We talked about a treatment plan. Once you leave here, you’ll need someone to handle your pain meds for you. Roger volunteered.”

  I gaze at her sunken brow and the weight on my chest grows even heavier.

  She looks at my left side, her breaths shallow. “The bullet struck your sobriety tattoo,” she says. “And the surgeons... well, they destroyed the rest of it saving your life, so...”

  I exhale. Classic Melanie Rose. Saving the worst for last.

  Out of everything she’s said so far, this one stings the most.

  Seven months down the drain.

  “Okay,” I whisper with closed eyes. “Is that all?”

  I listen as Melanie rises out of her chair. “Yeah, that’s about it,” she answers.<
br />
  She releases my hand. I instantly miss it. I keep my eyes pinched closed as her feet shuffle across the floor. The urge to say something, anything at all, rages in my heart, but I’ve exhausted everything I could say at this point to make her stay. If Melanie wants to leave, she’s going to leave. I know that better than anyone.

  The door closes.

  I bite down hard.

  Goodbye, Mela—

  “What the hell were you thinking?!”

  I open my eyes, startled by the sound of her voice. Melanie stands at end of the bed, her face now covered in tears.

  “What?” I ask.

  Her eyes burn a hole right through me. “Don’t you ever do anything like that ever again!” she says.

  I pause, confused. “I didn’t do anything wrong.”

  “You got shot, Robbie!”

  “Did you want me to let Nora get shot instead?”

  “No!” she says. “God, no! Of course not!”

  “Why are you yelling at me?” I ask. “I have a punctured lung.”

  “Exactly!” She throws up her hands. “You have a punctured lung!”

  “Okay...”

  “And two broken ribs!”

  “Last I heard, yeah.”

  “Do you have any idea what I’ve been through over the last forty-eight hours? I haven’t slept. I haven’t eaten. Every second I’ve spent right here watching your vitals and talking to nurses and making sure your next breath isn’t your last, you… stupid, stupid man! And, to make matters worse, it’s freaking Christmas!”

  “Why?” I ask.

  She glares at me. “Why what?”

  “Why did you do all that?”

  “Because that’s what a wife is supposed to do!” She exhales hard, just as taken back by her words as I am. “I make the hard choices. I follow my gut and I try to do the right thing no matter how painful it is, and then you go and do something like this?” She twitches, furious. “God, Rob! You make it impossible for me to hate you!”

  “I’m... sorry?”

  “No, don’t...” She huffs. “Don’t be sorry. Just... be alive, for Christ’s sake.”

  I smile. “I’m doing my best here.”

  Melanie plops down in the chair again, her chest heaving as tears spill down her cheeks. “And you know what the worst part is?” she asks.

  “The bullet, in my opinion,” I quip.

  “I have never been happier than I am right now,” she says, ignoring my joke. “I mean, I look at you like this and I am so upset. I am full of rage and anxiety and I can’t stop crying and I just want to smother you with a pillow to get it over with.”

  I eye the now closed door. “Uh-huh...”

  “But, then...” She holds back a sob. “I look at you like this and I... I’m so happy because I know a man who would take a bullet for someone he cares about and not even think twice about it. He’d do the right thing, no matter how painful it is.” She smiles. “Robbie, you’re my hero.”

  “I am?”

  Melanie nods. “And that sucks.”

  “It does?”

  Her lip quivers. “You were wrong before when you said that I deserve better than you. It’s you who deserves better than me. And...” She hesitates. “Aw, screw it.”

  Melanie takes a knee next to the bed. I blink twice.

  “Robbie, I love you,” she says. “I want to be the woman who chooses you no matter what, if you’ll let me.”

  I stare at her, her chin just barely reaching over the top of the tall hospital mattress. “Mel, are you giving me a grand gesture?” I ask.

  She places her hand just above my ribs, gently hovering over the spot where my tattoo is. Or was. “I wasn’t there before,” she says. “You needed someone by your side and I wasn’t there. I won’t let you go through that again. And seven months from now...” She smiles as a few more tears fall. “I don’t know, maybe we’ll have the best days of our lives. Or maybe we won’t, I don’t care. I’ll still be there. I promise.”

  My heart aches for this woman. From her head to her toes to her dirty cheeks and puffy, red eyes. I look at her looking at me, her face so full of love and longing and I know she means it.

  “Wow,” I say. “That was good.”

  “Was it?” she asks. “Not too over the top?”

  “Just the right amount of over the top. The knee was a nice touch.”

  She chuckles. “I thought you’d like that.”

  I move my hand toward her. She takes it and places it on her cheek, right where I wanted it to be, and I wipe away a line of tears with my thumb. “So, does all this gesturing mean you will stay in town?” I ask.

  Melanie rests against my palm. “If you’ll have me,” she says.

  “You spent two days sitting here hoping I don’t die,” I say. “What else am I supposed to do? Say no?”

  She smiles.

  Someone knocks twice on the door and opens it without waiting for a response.

  “Well, what a surprise. He’s alive!”

  I glare at Roger as he waltzes inside with a duffel bag in one hand and a to-go coffee cup from Moira’s in the other.

  “Yes, I’m alive,” I say.

  Melanie lowers my hand back onto the bed and picks herself up off the floor. “Hey, Roger,” she says, sitting down in the chair. “Come on in.”

  He slows his stride as he studies our faces. “Did I interrupt something dramatic?”

  “Honestly, yeah,” I answer.

  “Cool.” He grins as he sets the duffel on the end of the bed. “I brought you some clothes. I wasn’t sure if you’d want the tight, white t-shirt or the tight, white t-shirt, so I grabbed two of each just to be safe.”

  “You made the right call.”

  “The group sends their regards. There’s a card from them in the bag. Val’s not allowed to speak right now, or else I’m sure she’d wish you the best, too.”

  I furrow my brow. “… Okay.”

  “I fed your fish,” he says. “They were kinda rude, but fish gonna fish, I guess.”

  “I appreciate it.”

  “Also — I just think someone should tell you and it might as well be me — you look like shit.”

  Melanie laughs.

  “Thanks, Roger,” I say. “You’re a good friend.”

  He extends the coffee toward Melanie. “For you, Ms. Rose,” he says.

  She takes it, surprised. “Oh, thank you.”

  “You didn’t make it to brunch yesterday, so I figured I’d bring it to you. Oh—” He reaches into the duffel bag and withdraws a small pastry bag from Moira’s. “I brought you an everything bagel, too. Your favorite.”

  “That’s...” She sets it down on the bedside table. “That’s very sweet of you. Thank you.”

  Roger looks from me to her and back again before sitting down on the edge of the bed. “So, now that this whole thing is behind us, I think it’s time for the three of us to talk about the... undeniable sexual tension between us.”

  He rests one hand on mine and the other on Melanie’s across my lap.

  “The what?” I ask.

  “Robbie, you will be healing for a while,” he says. “That means you’ll be unable to perform certain... duties for Ms. Rose.”

  I frown. “Roger.”

  “I just want you to know that I am willing and very, very able to step in for you whenever she needs it.”

  “The second I get out of this bed, I’m going to kick your ass.”

  He eases back with his hands raised in defense. “I just wanted to put that out there.”

  “Put it back in,” I say.

  “We were all thinking it.”

  “No, we weren’t.”

  He smirks at Melanie. “You sure about that?”

  I look at her. She instantly averts her eyes, but the flush in her cheeks is hard not to notice.

  “Pfft,” she says, leaning back. “That’s... no. Roger. Of course we don’t need... that.”

  I squint. “Go home, Rog.”


  Roger grins as he hoists himself off the bed. “Get well soon, buddy. Merry Christmas!” He reaches the door before turning around and giving Melanie a quick bow. “Good day, Ms. Rose,” he says.

  “Bye, Roger,” she squeaks.

  He leaves. I glare at Melanie’s bright cheeks for a second longer before letting it go.

  She sighs. “We have to change the locks, don’t we?”

  My smile returns. “We?” I ask.

  Melanie bites her cheek in hesitation. “So, I kind of... sold my condo already.”

  “You really get shit done when you’re pissed.”

  She nods, regretful. “I need a place to stay until I can figure something out.”

  I entwine my fingers around hers. “I know a place,” I say.

  “Are you sure?” she asks. “I know you gave me a key before, but that was before everything exploded, so...”

  “The offer still stands, Melanie. You can move in today.”

  She smiles, her eyes glistening once more.

  “Come here,” I say, pulling on her hand.

  She sits on the edge of the bed with me. I pull her down and she softly rests her head on my shoulder. I bury my nose in her hair. I kiss her forehead. I hold her close, knowing that all the pain and heartache wasn’t for nothing.

  “I love you, Melanie,” I whisper.

  She exhales, breathing easier. “I love you, too, Robbie.”

  All of this will be worth it.

  I promise, Mel.

  Forty-Four

  Melanie

  “Hey, guys,” I say as I shake out a little fish food into the tank. “You hungry?”

  The goldfish swim out of their hiding places, eager for some morning grub. I smile at all three of them as they pass by the glass. I take a moment to let the bubbles soothe me before I turn toward the windows with my coffee.

  The streets below are alive with Sunday morning traffic. I take the last cold sip from the mug and smile, feelings of happy accomplishment washing over me.

  It’s a good day.

  I check the time. It’s after eleven already?

  I should get going soon if I don’t want to be late for brunch.

  I drop off my empty mug in the kitchen sink and head down the hall to the bathroom to get cleaned up. A quick face wash. Some dry shampoo. A little eye shadow and some lip gloss and I’m ready to go.