BAD WIFE

Chapter {22}

later...

Nikolai stepped into the apartment and immediately noticed Melissa sitting at the kitchen table—the same spot she'd occupied earlier. Her posture was different now, softer. She leaned forward slightly, one hand resting over the other, and when she looked up, a gentle smile curved her lips.

He tossed his keys onto the counter with a clink and leaned against it, arms folded across his chest. "What are you doing here?"

She released a breath. "I came to talk..." Her voice was quiet, tinged with regret. "I think I made a mistake."

His brow lifted, skeptical. "You think?"

She gave a small, self-deprecating laugh. "No. I know I did. I'm sorry."

His expression didn't shift. Everything that had happened in the last hour still weighed on him. He rubbed the back of his neck, unsure how to feel.

Melissa stood and approached slowly, her heels clicking against the floor like a soft metronome to the tension between them. Her palms found his chest, her touch light, searching. She tilted her head back to look into his conflicted eyes. "I'm sorry," she whispered, her voice barely audible. "I want to be by your side through this."

His arms remained folded, unmoved. "What is this?"

She blinked. "You know... dealing with Baylee. With the DNA test. Everything."

His jaw flexed. "And if the baby's mine?" he asked, watching her carefully. "Are you really going to be able to handle that?"

"Of course," she said without hesitation.

But he wasn't convinced. "No, I want you to really think about it, Melissa. Baylee won't just disappear. She'll be a permanent part of my life. Our life. Are you going to resent that? Are you going to feel insecure every time we're in the same room?"

She didn't flinch. Instead, she smiled softly. "Not unless you give me a reason to be."

"And if you keep turning little things into big ones?" he asked, his voice sharp but honest.

She took a breath, steadying herself. "I just need to know... is there even the slightest chance of you getting back together with her?" Her eyes searched his face. "I need to know that you want me—not her."

There was a pause. A heavy one.

His gaze dropped to the floor for a moment before returning to hers. "What Baylee did was unforgivable," he said, slowly and clearly. "What we had—it's over. Things between us are one hundred percent finished. There is absolutely no chance we could reconcile, whether you and I are together or not. Is that clear? Is that what you needed to hear?"

Relief washed over her face. She stepped forward and wrapped her arms around his waist, pulling him into a tight embrace. "Yes... exactly that," she murmured against his chest. "Can you forgive me?"

He swallowed hard, arms still stiff at his sides for a long moment before they slowly lifted and curved around her back.

He understood why she was upset. Everyone had a right to be hurt. This had been their first real argument, and up until now, she had been the picture of patience—understanding of his long work hours, never pressuring him to move faster than he was ready for. She had stood by him, quietly supportive, never demanding.

And now... she was here, willing to accept that he might have a baby with another woman. Willing to stay. That kind of forgiveness, that kind of loyalty, deserved to be returned.

So, he held her.

~~~~~~~

During the last few weeks, Clarissa had felt something close to relief—maybe even joy—because Jacob was finally keeping his distance. She figured that after their last blowout, when she'd told him exactly how she felt, he'd finally gotten the message. It seemed he was beginning to understand just how serious she was. They'd slipped into a decent co-parenting routine, strictly platonic, and left the broken pieces of their marriage untouched.