Betrayed By Husband, Stolen By Brother In Law

Richard's eyes sharpened at the sound of the name, a flicker of something like pain passing over his features before it vanished just as quickly. He leaned back slowly in his chair, his gaze fixed on her now, studying her with a wariness that hadn't been there a moment ago.

"Melrose," he repeated, almost under his breath, as if testing the weight of the name after years of keeping it locked away. His lips pressed together, his jaw tightening before he finally exhaled heavily. One hand rose to rub across the stubble along his chin, buying himself a moment. "How do you even know about her? And why are you bringing this up now? For all intents and purposes, Marianne has been your mother—"

Melanie shook her head sharply, cutting him off before he could finish. "I'm not asking you about that. I'm asking about Melrose. I want to know who she really was, and I want to know why her mother kidnapped Melanie. I've heard your version before—the one where you say she was simply angry—but I want the entire truth this time."

Richard's eyes narrowed slightly. "Why? Why do you want to know now?"

Her voice was steady, though her fingers curled into her palms. "Why do you not want to tell me? What difference would it make after all these years? Or is it that you have something to hide? Did you cheat on her with Marianne? Is that why you refuse to talk about it?"

His hand came down hard on the table with a sharp thud. "Melody! I have never cheated on Melrose! Never. Do you think I would dare to speak to you about the sanctity of marriage if I couldn't follow it myself? I would be the worst kind of hypocrite. Fine—if you truly want to know, I will tell you. But in return, you must promise me something. You must promise me that you will distance yourself from Adam."

Melanie's hands clenched tighter in her lap as she looked directly at him. "Fine. Tell me the truth, and I will make sure Melody stays away from Adam."

Richard, lost in the tide of old memories, didn't seem to hear the exact words she had chosen, nor the slip she had made. His eyes were somewhere far away when he finally said, "Melrose is your and Melanie's biological mother. She was diagnosed with cancer not long after you were born, and she passed away soon after. Before she died, she worried about leaving you both without a mother. She didn't want you growing up without a woman's care, so she chose Marianne herself."

Melanie's brows drew together. "Then why did Grandmother take me… Melanie away?"

Again, Richard missed the slip in her words, too focused on the past to notice. "It was all a misunderstanding…"

"What misunderstanding?" she pressed.

Richard let out a long, tired breath. "After your mother's death, everything changed. We were all… adrift. Me. Your grandmother. Even your sister. Melanie was old enough to recognise her mother's face, unlike you, too small to remember. She began asking questions… again and again… about where her mother was. Marianne, not wanting the child to dwell on loss and death, told her that her mother was away and would come back soon. That was when the first argument began. Your grandmother… she didn't want Melanie to grow up believing that her mother had abandoned her. So, she told her the truth,that her mother had died. And that was where the rift began to grow."

"For some time, I went along with what your grandmother wanted," Richard continued, his voice low, as though each memory was dragging something heavy behind it. "I told myself that perhaps she was right, that perhaps letting Melanie hold on to that hope would make things easier for her. But then… things began to change. Melanie started having nightmares in the middle of the night—terrible ones that left her screaming and shaking. And during the day, those fears would spill over into tantrums. She became restless, unpredictable. One time, in the middle of one of those outbursts, she even ended up hurting you."

He paused, looking down at his hands for a moment before meeting her eyes again. "After that, I realised I couldn't just stand by. I had to be firm. I told your grandmother that I did not want to hear Melrose's name spoken in that house again. Marianne was the children's mother, chosen with care, by Melrose herself—so they would grow up remembering her as their mother. That was how it had to be."

"I knew your grandmother didn't like it," he went on after a breath, "but for her daughter's sake, she agreed to go along with it. Still, no matter what we tried,no matter how many reassurances we gave, Melanie's panic attacks only grew worse. Every time she stepped outside the house, it was as if some invisible weight would crush her. She would freeze, eyes wide, trembling, as if she expected me to abandon her somewhere. She would cry out, begging her 'mother' to come back and take her away with her, convinced that I was going to lock her in some small, dark room and never let her out again."

Richard's gaze dropped to the table, his fingers drumming once before curling into a fist. "One of those episodes… your grandmother happened to witness it herself. She walked into the front yard just as Melanie had frozen on the path, crying and screaming for her mother to come take her away. I was trying to calm her down, but nothing I said was getting through. Your grandmother didn't see a frightened child in need of patience—she saw proof of her own belief. She turned on Marianne right there in the yard, saying that the entire problem was her fault. That Marianne had poisoned Melanie's mind by pretending to be something she could never replace."

He shook his head slowly. "Marianne was stunned. She stood there, not even defending herself at first, because she couldn't believe the accusation had come from your grandmother. And when she did finally speak… it wasn't in anger. It was hurt. Deep, raw hurt. That was when I knew I had to draw a line. I told your grandmother, firmly, that she was not to interfere anymore. That if she could not support the life Melrose had chosen for her children, she should keep her distance. I told her to stay away from my children."

Richard's voice hardened slightly. "She didn't argue. She only said she would spend one last night with us, and after that, she would not return." His mouth pressed into a thin line, a shadow passing over his face. "But that night… she took Melanie away."