Chapter 12 

Patrick’s quiet respect made all the anxiety Melinda felt from those nasty online comments fade away. Still, the sting lingered. She balled her hands into fists, hesitated, then finally told Patrick about what she’d seen on the internet. 

What Melinda really wanted to know was whether he was serious about her or if she was just a temporary distraction. But Patrick completely misunderstood. “They’re calling you a mistress again?” 

He slid an arm around her shoulders, protective and reassuring. “Don’t worry. I’ll have those comments deleted right now. You won’t have to see any of that again.” As he spoke, he grabbed his phone and called his assistant. 

Within minutes, every trace of those comments had vanished. Melinda watched him work so efficiently, her heart both warmed and troubled. If he loved her, why did he dodge her real question? But if he didn’t care, would he really go out of his way to shield her from all that hate? 

She lowered her eyes, hiding her confusion. Patrick, what do you actually feel for me? 

That night, Melinda couldn’t sleep. She tossed and turned, worries swirling in her mind. To her surprise, Patrick–who was usually so disciplined–was still awake too. 

She glanced at him in the dim light, then softly called his name, “Leonard…” 

“Yeah?” he murmured, turning and pulling her gently into his arms. His voice was low and a little rough. “What is it? Can’t sleep?” 

Melinda shook her head. “No… What about you? Why are you still awake?” 

Patrick froze for a second, then grinned, his tone teasing. “Baby, you got me all worked up and then left me hanging. How do you expect me to sleep, huh?” 

As he spoke, his fingertips traced slow, lazy circles down her back, drifting lower. A shiver ran through her and her cheeks turned hot. 

Flustered, she pushed him away and dove under the covers. “I–I’m going to sleep! You can handle it yourself!” 

Behind her, she heard Patrick’s soft, indulgent laugh. Her face only grew hotter, so she buried herself deeper into the blankets. 

Patrick let her be. He picked up his phone from the nightstand and walked into the bathroom. One hand turned on the shower, the other scrolled to his chat with Maisy. 

It was still completely empty. Every message he’d sent her sat there, unread and ignored. 

Patrick frowned, a wave of irritation washing over him. They’d been married for five years–he knew Maisy. With how much she loved him, she’d never stay silent for long. If she reached out first, he could finally explain, ask her to wait a little longer. Once he was done with Melinda, he’d 

7/2 

call off the divorce and go back to her. 

But reality was a slap in the face. Maisy hadn’t contacted him at all. She hadn’t even looked at his messages. 

Patrick’s frown deepened and he called her. The phone just rang and rang. No answer. 

Was she really so upset about the divorce that she wouldn’t even pick up? 

The thought actually made him smile a little, his mood lightening. If that was the case, he’d just have to sweet–talk her when the time came. No way would Maisy let him go–she loved him too much. 

So, for the next few days, Patrick poured all his attention into Melinda. 

She’d never really felt secure in their relationship, but Patrick’s sudden affection and closeness made her feel like maybe–just maybe–they had a real chance. He kept her close, barely letting her out of his sight. Wrapped up in his warmth, Melinda let herself believe in happiness again. So when Patrick proposed, overwhelmed by the rush of it all, she said yes without even 

thinking. 

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