La Reina | The Story of Melanie Kavitz

failure

so, i think writing angst is perfect for me at the moment since my mental health isn't amazing right now. 😃😃😃

why not turn sadness into "art" (i use this term very lightly)?

thank you for the support, and thank you for being so enthusiastic about this idea! i've been developing it for some time, and i can't wait to execute it!

...

May 19, 2022

"Mom! You're home!"

As soon as I open the door to my home, I hear Gideon's screams and footsteps thumping down the hall to the entrance. "You were gone for so long!"

I can't help but laugh out loud as I put my gym bag down on the ground to embrace my youngest son. "I know! I missed you so much!"

"Daddy let us play video games after lunch, and he got us cotton candy!"

"Did he, now?" I ask playfully as I glance up to see my ex-husband walking towards us with a guilty look on his face. "What did I say about sugar?"

"Come on, they were practically scratching my face off for something sweet." Masche surrenders while putting his hands in the air. "It's never fun being on the losing end of the fight."

"Don't I know it." I sigh as I place my gym bag in the closet. "Where's Alexis?"

"He wanted to take a nap, but I made sure to set an alarm so he doesn't oversleep."

"Good," I respond as I look back toward my youngest. "Why don't you go upstairs and play with your building blocks? Daddy and I have to talk for a bit."

"Yuck, grown-up talk is so boring," Gideon says while moping, and both Masche and I chuckle. "I go upstairs now."

Once our son was out of sight, I head straight for the kitchen for a glass of wine. The television was on with ESPN playing in the background, which gladly makes for some white noise. I know Masche sees the frustration on my face as I'm clamming through cabinets to find a good bottle. "How did your meeting with Pep go?"

"As well as it could go," there was nothing else I could add to that as I pour white wine into my glass. "He thinks this is a bad idea, but he'll back me to let the transfer go through."

"You can't blame the guy, Mel," Masche sighs while taking a seat opposite the kitchen island from where I am. "I mean... we both know how they treated you after Adair -

"I don't want to talk about that."

It's been 12 years. There's no need to bring it up again.

"I didn't mean to, Mel. I'm sorry." Masche says sadly, running his hand through his hair. "I just... I don't want to see you getting hurt like that. I know I wasn't there for most of it, but I was there for some of it. I know what you went through."

I finish the glass of wine in almost three sips, and as I put the glass back down onto the island, I can't help but look at my former husband with sadness of my own. "I know what I went through, too. And what I know is that no matter what, I still love this club, and I want to give it another shot."

"Can you even trust what they're saying?" Masche's voice strained with more frustration. "Laporta might just be filling your head with empty promises. And have you actually forgiven them for what they did?"