Chapter 20

Leonard's cold gaze swept across the murmuring crowd, and as if instinctively understanding, they slowly backed away. His tone was firm yet composed as he finally spoke, his eyes locking onto Melisa.

"Come down. Let's go home."

Melisa studied him for a moment, a faint smile playing on her lips.'Home' this word don't feel so distant now. Then, without a word, she turned back toward the balcony steps, ready to descend.

As Melisa descended the stairs, Leonard was already waiting. The moment she reached him, he extended his hand toward her. Understanding the silent gesture, she placed her hand in his without hesitation.

They had arrived with a sense of ease, and they left the same way—unhurried and composed. The car ride was smooth, with Leonard maintaining his ever-gentlemanly demeanor.

Upon reaching the house, Melisa was surprised to see the warm glow of lights still on. Stepping inside, she found Aunt Eleanor fast asleep on the sofa.

Leonard, however, seemed unsurprised. His mother had a habit of waiting up whenever he or his father came home late, no matter how often they told her not to. Despite their reassurances, she never listened, so they always tried not to return too late.

But for Melisa, this was new. No one had ever waited for her to come home before.

"Aunt, wake up." Melisa crouched beside her, gently shaking her shoulder in an attempt to rouse her.

Aunt Eleanor slowly opened her eyes, groggy at first. Her unfocused gaze shifted from Melisa to Leonard before finally resting on Melisa.

"You're back," she murmured, sitting up as Melisa instinctively reached out to steady her.

Melisa hesitated before speaking. "You shouldn't have waited up for me, Aunt Eleanor."

But Eleanor waved a dismissive hand, stifling a yawn. "It's nothing. Are you hungry?"

A strange warmth spread in Melisa's chest, but at the same time, she felt an unfamiliar tightness in her throat. She quickly shook her head. "No."

Leonard, who had been watching silently, finally spoke. "You should get some rest, Mom."

Aunt Eleanor nodded, her eyelids drooping. Yet, even in her exhaustion, she still spared a few words of concern. "You two must be exhausted too. Go freshen up and rest, dear."

With that, she turned and made her way toward her room, leaving Melisa standing there, lost in thoughts she didn't quite understand.

____

After freshening up, they both lay in bed, each occupying their own end, the dim glow of the bedside lamp casting soft shadows across the room.

Melisa turned onto her side, then onto her back, then back again. Sleep refused to come.

Leonard, who had been lying still, noticed her restlessness. His voice broke the quiet. "What's wrong? Something on your mind?"

Melisa hesitated before replying. "...Nothing."

A stretch of silence followed, and her body relaxed as she thought maybe he had fallen asleep. After all, it had been a long and exhausting day.

Yet, just as her thoughts began to drift, his voice broke the silence—calm yet firm. "You're not a very good liar."

Melisa flinched slightly. Did he have to startle her like that? "What do you mean? Why would I lie?" she asked, trying to sound indifferent.

Leonard let out a quiet chuckle, the sound barely audible in the dimly lit room. "You've been tossing and turning for a while now. That only happens when something's bothering someone."

Melisa pressed her lips together, debating whether to brush it off. "I just can't sleep," she finally said, keeping her voice even.

Leonard turned his head slightly in her direction, his gaze unreadable in the faint glow of the bulb. "Is it because of what happened earlier with your father and sister?"

A pause. Then, she murmured, "No, that doesn't and won't hurt me anymore." Yet, her fingers clenched the blanket, betraying her words.

Leonard was silent for a moment before speaking again. "That's good," he said, his tone steady. "But that's not the only thing on your mind, is it? You seemed troubled even before that ."

A silence stretched between them. Melisa turned her back to him, fearing he would notice her expression—even though there wasn't enough light to truly see it. "You're imagining things," she said, her voice quieter than she intended.

Leonard let out a soft hum, as if contemplating her words. "Oh? Then why don't you say that while facing me?"

She didn't move.

Another beat of silence passed before he spoke again, his voice steady but firm. "Melisa, hiding your problems won't make them disappear. If we don't face them, they'll stay there—like cracks beneath the surface, growing deeper with time."

His words settled heavily in the dimly lit room. "We have to face them together and find a solution," he continued. "Or else, they'll never truly go away. Do you understand?"

Melisa's grip on the blanket tightened. She understood what he meant, but what if the answer hurt her? She didn't want to be hurt again. Yet, she also knew Leonard wouldn't drop the matter so easily.

"Do you love Olivia?" The words slipped from her lips before she could stop them.

She closed her eyes, bracing herself for his response—like a criminal awaiting their execution. She knew she had no right to demand his feelings, no right to hope for a specific answer. He could love whoever he wanted. He could be happy.

But not Olivia.

She couldn't accept that.