Page 10 of Resolutions

“I-” Words fail me as bile rises in my throat.

“Sit down.” When I don't move - “SIT. THE. EVER. LOVING. FUCK. DOWN. NOW. Next thing I say is 'let's go swimming.'“

I sink to the bench, bile burning my throat as my reality crumbles.

“Good. See, that wasn't hard. Take out the envelope marked number one and open it.”

That voice... I know it. The realization hits like a physical blow. My stomach heaves. It can't be.

“Michael?”

“Ah, you've finally figured it out. Good job, little bunny. Yes, Melanie, it's me.” The satisfaction in his voice makes my skin crawl.

“Michael, what are you doing? I'm not playing this game. This isn't funny.”

“Oh dear, it's not meant to be funny,” he says with a chilling calm. “You're a very serious business transaction, worth a lot of money. And as you know, I never mess around with money.”

“I don't understand.”

He sighs like a teacher who's explained the same problem seven times. “It's quite simple. Nod your head to show me you're listening. Good, now, if you come down in your dress, you'll force me to have my guys load those lovely ladies into the boat, drive them ten miles offshore and toss them over. You'll also force me to send my men to collect you on your honeymoon. Do you think you can put up much of a fight against the gentleman who delivered the box? Who, by the way, is downstairs as backup, waiting for orders.”

Tears well up as I start to protest, but catch myself covering my mouth. I can't stop my hand from trembling. Remembering he can see me, my eyes search frantically for cameras, checking the iPad repeatedly. The men are still sitting with Mom and my aunt.

“Darling, the camera's too small to find. Now, nod if I may continue.”

I nod slowly, my neck stiff with fear.

“Thank you. As I was saying - you are NOT getting married today. You're leaving as soon as we finish talking.”

“But-” He cuts me off.

“Did you interrupt me?” He pauses, voice dropping dangerously. “Let me be clear. You're not only leaving; you'll never contact the Whitaker family again. I have all their phones bugged, even Connie and Debbie's. I record everything. If you call, I'll know.”

“I can't-”

“SHUT UP!” Michael screams. “It's not that DAMN HARD, Melanie! I knew I should have just had the guys take you.” Something shatters in the background.

My hands tremble harder as I struggle to think. I swallow and it hurts.

“But they'll wonder-”

“Watch your tablet.”

The kitchen phone rings. My aunt answers and the man next to her enables the speakerphone.

“Why hello there? This is Michael calling. How are you two?”

I stumble as his cheerful, sunny voice comes through both devices.

“Michael, aren't you sweet sending these men to make sure we can watch the wedding? I thought it was all set up when you visited.”

How does he know where they live? He's never been there. Tears stream down my face, thinking of him in their house. Touching my mom, hugging my aunt.

“I told you I wouldn't let you miss it. So, I sent my men as backup. They're there to make sure things go off,” he paused, “swimmingly.”

“Aww, aren't you the best! I'm so grateful you're such a good friend to Melanie,” my aunt says. “Such a sweet man.”

“Sweet man,” mom says, taking the giraffe back.

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