CHRYSOLITE 💍🍀

CHAPTER 22(A lead).

If you keep staring at my lips, I can't guarantee my next action.- Davis lee.

.
.
.
.
.
.
.

Frederick sat in the dimly lit bar in downtown Greenwood, his eyes drifting over the familiar surroundings. It had been years since he set foot in this place—the place where he first met Melanie. Her face had been so young, so shy, with her eccentric blue eyes peeking up at him from behind her bangs. He remembered the slight quiver in her lips when she smiled, her gaze flickering between him and his younger brother, Gregg, who had introduced them that day. That memory, once so sweet, now filled him with a hollow ache.

Next to him, Robertson, his best man and closest friend, sipped his drink, throwing occasional glances at Frederick’s forlorn expression. “You’re thinking what I’m thinking?” Robertson asked, his tone gentle but knowing.

Frederick forced a sad smile, though his heart was heavy. “Yeah, I think I am. I can’t help it, man. I miss her. I miss both of them.”

Robertson shook his head, leaning back against the worn leather of his chair. “Damn, I miss her too. I miss those chocolate chip cookies she used to bake, her pies, and all those sinful, sweet things she whipped up. Melanie’s cooking was a heart attack on a plate, but man, was it worth it.”

Frederick let out a quiet chuckle, the sound more sorrowful than amused. “Yeah. We always had to put in extra hours at the gym just to keep up with all that food. She used to laugh at us every time we groaned about gaining weight.”

The smile faded from Frederick’s face as his gaze drifted into the distance, his thoughts sinking deeper into the past. “She was the best wife any man could ever ask for. I just... I just wish Riley would talk. She’s all I have left of Mel. She might know something—maybe she saw something—but she won’t say a word. I’m at a loss, Rob. I don’t know what to do anymore.”

A single tear slid down his cheek, which he quickly wiped away, cursing the emotion that was bubbling to the surface. His voice lowered, thick with grief. “We’ve tried everything. Every goddamn shrink, every psychologist. But all she does is cry. She shakes like she’s terrified, but nothing comes out. It’s like she’s locked herself in her own world, and I can’t reach her.”

Robertson, feeling the weight of his friend’s anguish, swallowed back his own emotions. He had dragged Frederick out tonight, hoping to lift his spirits, hoping that maybe being back in the old bar would bring back some of the happier memories. But he had forgotten that those memories were inseparably tied to Melanie—and the gaping hole her absence left.

“Fred, I’m really sorry. I didn’t think... Let’s just go home.”

Frederick nodded slowly, standing to leave. As they made their way toward the door, Frederick heard a familiar voice from across the bar. Jimbo, the bartender, was talking into his phone, and the name he mentioned sent an electric jolt through Frederick’s body.

“Melanie? Damn, girl, it’s been a long time! What’s going on? You okay? Why do you sound...?”

Frederick froze mid-step. His heart pounded in his chest. Melanie? It couldn’t be. But as he listened to Jimbo’s tone shift from surprise to concern, a flicker of hope ignited in his chest. He rushed over, practically stumbling in his haste, his voice hoarse as he pleaded silently with Jimbo, his eyes begging him for the phone.

Jimbo, though confused, took one look at Frederick and knew something big was happening. He hesitated for only a second before handing the phone over.

Frederick took the phone with trembling hands, lifting it slowly to his ear. He could barely speak, the weight of years of longing and heartache tightening his throat. “M... Mel?” he whispered, his voice cracking with raw emotion.