A few hours passed before Melody could talk herself into leaving the safety of Punk's room. Neither of them slept a wink the rest of the night. The pain and anger in Wade's voice was echoing through Melody's head, haunting her. Punk had watched her anxiously, dreading the time when she would leave, dreading the exchange that was yet to come. He urged her to stay with him a while longer, but she knew she must be going. She called Wade and, as she'd hoped, got his voicemail.

"Wade…it's me. I just wanted to let you know that I'll be home later on this afternoon. We need to talk…about a lot of things. I hope you'll be there."

Punk eyed her as she hung up. They gazed at each other, unsure of what to say.

"Well…that's settled. I guess I'd better go pack."

"You want me to come with you?" he asked protectively.

"Yes. But you really shouldn't. I don't know where Wade is right now but if he sees us together it will only make things worse."

Punk nodded gravely.

"I guess this is goodbye then," he said, his expression wooden.

Melody wrapped her arms around him, holding on to him feverishly as if he were slipping away from her.

"What's wrong?" he asked softly.

"I'm scared, Phil."

He pulled her back, looking at her with concern.

"What are you scared of?"

"Everything has gone so wrong. I think I've really messed things up."

"You mean with Barrett?" he asked darkly.

"I don't want to become his enemy, but he's not the only one I'm talking about. What if I've messed things up…for us?"

Punk surprised her by smiling softly.

"You don't have to worry about that. It's true that a lot of drama has been going on through this whole thing, but I've never stopped loving you."

She could feel her heart warming in her chest, waking at the prospect that Phil could still love her after she'd betrayed him. It reminded her of the real reason she was doing this and gave her strength to face the impossible endeavor of breaking up with Wade. Impulsively, she kissed him, their first since their time spent in Chicago which seemed so long ago. When their lips parted, they gazed into each other's eyes and, for a moment, everything was right in the world.

"Will you call me once everything is settled?" he said in a voice little louder than a whisper.

"Of course," she said with a smile.

They lingered there, holding on to each other, clinging to this precious moment and praying that there were more like this to come.

-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-

She got home around 9:00 that night, a lot later than she'd expected after facing a delay at the airport. As the cab pulled up to the house that she and Wade had shared for over a year, she quickly took note of the darkened windows. It appeared that no one was home. Annoyed and frustrated, Melody paid the driver and headed inside. Flipping the light switch inside the door, she gazed around at the kitchen. She walked through each room in the entire house, looking at the still life scene in front of her, knowing that this would be one of the last times she'd see this place she called home. It saddened her a little; she'd once thought she'd be living here—or anywhere—with Wade for the rest of her life. Shaking off the memories that were flooding in, she turned off all the lights and crawled up on the bed. The time was 9:52. Where could he be?

-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-

The sound of her ringing phone woke her from a deep slumber. She squinted at the bright screen and noted two things: that it was well past two in the morning and that of all people, Heath Slater was calling her. Warily, she answered the phone.

"Hello?"

"Melody. It's Heath."

She could hear music and chattering in the background, and guessed he was calling from a bar.

"What's up?"

"Well...," he said, hesitance heavy in his voice. "…I was ordered not to call you, but I think you ought to know."

"Know what?" Melody asked, growing impatient.

"Wade's out here at Rogue Tavern and he's pretty messed up. I've been trying to talk him into going home but he won't budge. I guess he's still pretty upset about last night."

Melody felt herself becoming annoyed. She'd never known Wade to be a heavy drinker and suddenly he was getting wasted every night. She thought seriously about telling Heath she didn't care what Wade was doing, but instead she said she'd be on her way.

The bar was only a few blocks from their house, a place they'd visited on several occasions. Inside, she could easily pick out Wade and Heath among the dwindling patrons. Heath noticed her right away and walked over to meet her, a worry etched on his face. She looked past him to see Wade slumped over in his chair, his face buried in his hands.

"Boy am I glad to see you," Heath said in his thick Virginian accent.

"What's wrong with him?" Melody said with a hint of disgust.

"I don't know, Mel. Do you think it has something to do with you cheating on him?"

"I didn't cheat on him," Melody said through clenched teeth. "For your information, he's the one screwing around again. But you probably already knew that, didn't you?"

Heath looked sheepishly at his feet. She took a deep breath, calming herself.

"I'll go talk to him."

He nodded and hung back, watching them from afar.

Melody slid into the chair beside Wade. When he didn't look up, she prompted him gently.

"Wade?"

He uncovered his face, staring at her blankly. He looked truly horrible, not at all like the man she knew and loved.

"Melody? What are you doing here?" he slurred.

"I've come to take you home. It appears that you've had enough to drink."

"I'm not going anywhere with you," he said thickly, too drunk to sound truly angry.

"I know you're upset, but you have to give me a chance to explain—"

"How could you, Mel? You were supposed to be there!"

"Wade, this is not the time. Let's go home, please? We'll talk tomorrow when you're feeling better."

His face screwed up and he started to sob, collapsing in a heap on the table.

Melody shot a look at Heath who looked just as baffled as she was. This was completely out of character for Wade, even if he was horribly drunk.

"It's okay," she said, rubbing his back.

"Don't leave me, Mel," he sobbed.

It was the worst possible thing he could have said. How could she tell him the truth in the state he was in? If she didn't, she would be lying. Suddenly she felt trapped, like a victim bound and gagged, never to be free from her captor's game.

"I'm not leaving," she said, and it took all she had to fight off the stinging tears welling in her eyes.