Melinda clung to her bed sheets, curled up on her side; her long, mahogany locks thrown behind her as she sobbed into her sheets.

Oh I think I got you figured out; boy I think I know what you are all about . Finally I can finally see you pull the darkness right down over me
but now I see.

Everybody knows that I'm a mess; everybody knows you stole the heart from out my chest. Everything you ever said was a lie,
you're hiding behind your sweet your sweet goodbyes.

I'm black and blue 'cause I fell for you. You said you never would let me go; oh how could I ever know

It was only three days ago that she had left her husband and come home and since then she had been holed up in her room while her entire family tried to figure out what was going on.

The aunts had held her on the stair case, her mother had rocked her back and forth and finally Paige had orbed her to bed when Melinda had fallen asleep from crying so much. Piper left food at the door for her, though Mel had yet to eat anything she had brought; and Phoebe held the family at bay, knowing from her empathy that the girl needed desperately to grieve on her own.

It wasn't supposed to be like this. They were going to grow old together and have three kids, since that seemed to be the magic number in the Halliwell family. Magic, she thought bitterly, that's where it all went wrong. In her entire life, Melinda had never blamed magic for anything but god how she was blaming it now. Why had she seen what she saw?

Chris didn't hesitate, he didn't knock, and he didn't listen to his parents' and aunts' protests when he barged into Melinda's room, where Ingrid Michaelson was blasting out the world. Closing the door behind him, he moved over to the rocking chair next to Mel's bedside while she scrambled into a sitting position.

"I don't want to talk about it, Chris," she sniffled and blew her nose.

"That's good, because I came here to feed you," Chris put the tray he was balancing on the bed and sat down across from her. "Open," he said to his blubbering sister and when she went to protest he stuck a fork full of mashed potatoes and gravy. "Carbs are great for breakups," he said and she laughed through her mouthful of food and loaded up another forkful.

Staring at her reflection, Mel combed her hair with an antique silver brush that had once belonged to her aunt Prue, whom she was named after—though she went by her middle name.

She was very somber, her eyes devoid of any emotions as her hand swept back and forth brushing her hair as she listened to Luke's voice on her messages…again. He was breaking her heart all over again, like he had ripped it straight from her chest.

"Mel, call me back," he muttered through grinding teeth. "This isn't over; I'm not going to just let you destroy our marriage."

"Next saved message," the machine said, "saved at 8:41pm on…" it droned on.

"Melinda, just come home," he begged and she could hear him crying. "We can work this out. If you want me to go to Boston so much then come with me. There are tons of opportunities for you, too," he managed before getting cut off.

"Why are you doing this," his voice trembled as his deep voice betrayed him. He was calm; too calm. Luke had left this message after banging on the Manor doors for nearly two hours, crying as he yelled for her to come down and face him. Melinda had stayed locked away behind her bedroom door as Wyatt and Chris dealt with him. "We were meant to be," he said, gaining back some of the strength in his voice before hanging up on her.

Coming down for breakfast, Melinda stopped at the sudden silence to find everyone looking at her.

Every Sunday all three families gathered for brunch and it seemed as if everyone had come over. Wyatt pulled the seat next to him out and Mel walked over before grabbing a tray of fruit. It was her first meal with other people since Chris had spoon fed her almost a week earlier.

Luke hadn't gone back to the apartment in almost two days. The first week since she had walked out on him had been spent either trying to find a way to get her back, or lying in bed holding onto her pillow.

Melinda had always worn this one perfume, a memento that her mother clung to after the death of the eldest Halliwell sister; Prudence. She had told him once that her mother and aunts had lost their mother when they were little and Prue, being the oldest and having the most time with their mother, always remembered the way she had smelled of sandal wood.

Now, a week into their separation, Luke had stopped finding comfort in her smell and started seeking numbness in scotch; two fingers, no rocks. He had only just turned twenty-two years old, and already his life was falling apart around him. Throwing down some cash, he threw his leather jacket on and made his way back to his motel room.

Like most, the room was bland and had no personality and Luke gave thanks that he wasn't surrounded by belongings that reminded him of her. Undressing, he moved around in the dark and climbed into bed. Tomorrow he would go home to his parents and file for divorce.

Mel helped her mother in the kitchen as they prepared dinner and waited for Wyatt to appear with his new girlfriend, Hannah. Instead of going all out like the chef would love to do, she thought of Wyatt and planned a casual summer picnic that they would enjoy outside on the patio.

It was what anyone else would call a beautiful day; the sun gleamed in through the open doors of the sunroom and Piper's garden was in full bloom. Melinda didn't notice any of it as she arranged a vase to put on the patio table when the bell rang.

Leo and Chris were talking sports and Mel didn't want to stop her mother in the middle of preparing the food, so she wiped her hands on her jeans and short sleeve tee shirt before making her way from the kitchen to the front door.

"Hello," she said confused. "May I help you?"

"Are you Prudence Melinda Halliwell," the young man on the other side of the Manor doors asked.

"Yeah. What's this about?"

"You've been served," he told her and handed the papers to her before skipping down the steps and getting into his car.

Piper came up behind her daughter as Mel pushed the door shut. "Who was that?"

"It was a process server," she chuckled in a way that betrayed whatever humor was supposed to be there, "to deliver divorce papers. Apparently Luke got to it first."

"Oh, honey. Are you alright," Piper said hugging her youngest child. "I'm sure Wyatt won't mind if you don't want to have dinner with us—"

"No, mom. This is Wyatt's big night, and I should have seen this coming. It's been two weeks and I haven't done anything I need to in order to end things—legally, that is."

Piper didn't want to push her daughter. She knew exactly how far she could go with each one of her children and this was not a line she could cross. Though she had been wary of Mel's elopement, Piper had realized that it wasn't something she could or should get in the way of, no matter how angry and upset she was to see her sixteen year old daughter married and out of the house.

They had celebrated their marriage a year later by having a ceremony at the house and throwing a small reception at the Manor and now, just three short years after eloping, her daughter was hurting in a way that Piper had once ached for Leo. It bothered her that no one had been able to get anything out of Melinda, and the mother in her knew there was something more to the situation than just wanting different things. The only thing she was glad for was that there were no children, but she had been so sure that Melinda had found the one.

Now, as she focused on preparing yet another "meet the family" dinner for another one of Wyatt's girlfriends who probably wouldn't be around much longer, she prayed that one day Melinda would be able to move on and find a love that would last.

Everybody knows that I'm a mess; everybody knows you stole the heart from out my chest. Everything you ever said was a lie,
you're hiding behind your sweet your sweet goodbyes.

I'm black and blue 'cause I fell for you. You said you never would let me go; oh how could I ever know