Page 77 of The Heir
We watch intently from the window as the plane glides into its parking space. The ground crew rolls the stairs to the door, and my breath catches in my throat. Will they have to hoist Melnyk down? Is he still stuck in a gurney? I know his recovery has gone exceedingly well, all things considered, but I don't entirely understand all of the medical jargon.
"Oh, my god," Melody whispers. Her wide brown eyes glisten with fresh tears as she watches Helena emerge from the door, blinking into the bright sunlight. Her hair is piled in a messy bun, and she quickly flips her sunglasses down to block out the light.
"She's here," I reassure my wife, wrapping a protective arm around her shoulder.
"And—oh, my god!" Melody gasps. "Melnyk!"
In awe, I watch my friend—fully upright, standing and walking, with a gigantic smile on his face—descend the stairs behind Helena. He cups his hand over his eyes, searching for us.
"Miss, please—" Thereceptionist yells after Melody, but she's long gone. I can only offer the receptionist an apologetic smile as I follow my woman.
"Helena!" Melody shrieks, waddling toward her best friend.
"Melody—oh, fuck," Helena gasps. My wife collides with Helena, and the two stumble to keep their footing. "Shit, I missed you, too."
"Sir," Melnyk calls out. "It's good to see you."
"Melnyk. You're looking… shockingly well." I nod to him and offer my hand. He grasps it firmly and shakes once.
"Medical science. It's a marvel, is it not?"
"Yeah, yeah, we can talk about that later—let's go!" Melody tugs on Helena's hand, urging her back to our car.
"Girl, wait. We need our stuff." Helena plants her feet firmly.
"Not to worry, sir," the ground agent chirps. "We'll have the cargo to your vehicle shortly. Please bring it around to the designated pickup spot."
Melody squeals again and successfully drags Helena away. Melnyk and I sigh, smiling blithely. Everything feelsright.
Back at our house, Helena and Melody pester Marie in the kitchen. Shockingly, Marie's kept my crystal whiskey decanter topped up. Or maybe she poured it out and replaced it when I got home.
I'll never know. But what I do know is that Melnyk sighs gratefully when I pour him a glass, as well. He gulps the amber liquid down, hissing out a breath to quell the burn. We settle into our places on the sofa—rather, I settle into mine, and he perches gingerly where Roman sat so many times before.
"It is good to be home, sir." He gently places the glass on a coaster. "Are you settling back in well?"
"That I am," I agree. "Melody is proving to be quite the hellion."
"Proving to be?" Melnyk snorts. "Sir, with all due respect, we have known this. But… motherhood is quite becoming on her. She looks well. She looks… happy."
"Doesn't she just? I must admit, I didn't know if we'd ever get there again. After everything that happened, joy seemed too far away."
"I know what you mean," he mumbles. "Helena has been… ah… very helpful. In that respect."
"Has she now?" I mentally file that away to discuss with Melody later. It makes sense, though I'd deny it if Melnyk asked me outright if I think anything is happening between them.
"Very. I will say that I don't think I could have made it without her." His face softens for a split second.There it is. "Do not put her in danger again, sir."
"As long as she stays employed by me, that is a promise I can't make."
"And if she chooses to leave?" Melnyk holds my gaze with a fierce intensity.
"She is free to do so. Should she leave, there will—of course—be legal consequences if she breathes a word about anything she's seen, heard, or could imply." I straighten my posture and harden my own gaze. "Is she thinking of leaving?"
He huffs out a weary sigh. "No. I want her to. She doesn't. She… she lives for this, sir. With everything that's happened, she feels a deep loyalty to you and Mrs. Lyons."
He wants her to leave? He wants her out of this underworld—this dangerous place. I can appreciate that. There have been so many days when I wished the same for Melody—but the thought of being without her is so much worse. I school my expression out of the concerned frown and into something more neutral. "Iunderstand. Her loyalty is appreciated. As is yours, of course."
"Of course."
