Melody
I knew something was wrong the moment Mark’s phone rang again.
It wasn’t just the sound—it was the way his body changed before he even answered. The warmth between us tightened into something sharper, heavier. His jaw set. His shoulders squared. Whatever was on the other end of that call belonged to a world he carried carefully, one he hadn’t wanted to bring anywhere near me yet.
He pulled back slowly, reluctantly, and answered.
“Talk to me.”
I stayed quiet, my body still angled toward his, my hand resting where his had been moments ago. I didn’t need to hear the other voice to understand the gravity. I watched it play across his face instead—the flicker of tension, the brief closing of his eyes, the way his breathing shifted when he heard a name that mattered.
“How bad?” he a
