Passion's Crossfire

Chapter 54

Mallory

I toss my duffle bag onto my bed, its contents spilling out haphazardly. The familiar scent of my room envelops me, but the comfort it usually brings is tainted by the absence of Adam. I already miss him so much, and the realization hits me like a tidal wave. How on earth am I going to make it until Sunday? The prospect of four days without him feels daunting.

I quickly put my things away, folding clothes and placing them in the dresser and I head downstairs. In the kitchen, the enticing aroma of cinnamon rolls wafts through the air. My mom is there, lost in her own world, singing along with the radio as she expertly maneuvers through her favorite pastime: baking.

"Mmm, cinnamon rolls," I exclaim. My mom grins at me, her eyes crinkling with affection. "You know it," she says, winking as she takes a batch out of the oven.

"You know it," she replies, grinning mischievously. With a wink, she pulls a batch of cinnamon rolls out of the oven, their golden tops glistening enticingly.

"I love your cinnamon rolls," I admit, reaching out to grab one, but my mom slaps it away with surprising speed. "You'll burn, honey. I just took them out of the oven," she scolds playfully. I take a seat at the table, eying the warm pastries.

"How are you, honey?" my mom asks, concern in her eyes. I offer a reassuring smile. "I'm good, Mom."

"Really?" she probes and I respond by raising an eyebrow. "Well, I don't know. I just thought that you would be disappointed that Adam went to his parents' home alone. I mean, we've met him, shouldn't you meet his parents?" she inquires, concern etched on her face.

"Don't worry, Mom," I say, attempting to brush off her worries. She doesn't seem convinced.

"I would be disappointed if I were you," she admits. I take a deep breath, choosing my words carefully.

"I'm good, Mom. Really. It's more complicated than that. Trust me, it's best for me not to meet them yet," I explain, hoping to end the conversation there. My mom arches her eyebrows but doesn't press further.

The sound of the front door opening interrupts our conversation. After a moment, Melanie appears in the kitchen, her face lighting up when she sees me. "Mallory!" she exclaims, rushing over to hug me. She takes a seat beside me, genuine excitement in her eyes.

"I'm so excited you're back," she exclaims, her enthusiasm contagious.

"Me too," I respond, a smile playing on my lips.

"I bet you miss your boy-toy," she teases, and I can't help but roll my eyes. When did our family become so vulgar?

"And how is Marcus?" I counter her advances.

Her expression darkens, and she sighs. "He's okay," she mumbles, the unease in her voice not escaping my notice.

I study her for a moment, sensing there's more to the story. She shakes her head, glancing at Mom, and I nod, signaling her to go upstairs.

"Mom, have these rolls cooled down yet, or what?"

"You impatient girl," Mom playfully scolds, placing some rolls on a plate. She hands it to me, and I accept it with a grin.

"Now, if you'll excuse me, I will take these rolls somewhere more private," I declare, motioning for Melanie to follow me.

"I'll go change clothes, Mom," Melanie says, kissing her cheek before we retreat to my room. We settle on my bed, indulging in the warmth of the cinnamon rolls.

"What's going on, Melanie?"

She sighs, her gaze distant. "I don't know, Mallory. I thought everything was going great."

"But you don't anymore?" I prompt, a sinking feeling settling in.

Melanie shakes her head, her expression troubled. "No, Mallory, I don't."

"What happened?" I ask, concern knitting my brows together.

Melanie gives me a vulnerable look, her shoulders slumping. "It all started when Evie told me she saw Marcus outside with other girls, Mallory. Girls, plural," she reveals, her voice barely above a whisper.

"Seriously?" I ask, my shock mirroring hers.

She nods, and anger bubbles within me. "I didn't want to believe it, Mal. But I saw him myself. He had his arms wrapped around her; they were walking by the river. And the worst thing? It wasn't even one of the girls Evie had seen him with."

"That asshole," I mutter, and I pull her into a tight hug as she begins to sob. "Do you want me to ask Adam about it?"

Melanie shakes her head. "No, I don't. I know you trust him, but Marcus is his best friend; he might warn him that I saw him," she explains.

"Okay," I say, squeezing her in a tighter hug. Damn it, Marcus. You were supposed to be a good guy. Melanie pulls away, wiping the tears off her face, her makeup now a watercolor mess. "So, when is Adam coming back?" she asks, changing the subject.

"Sunday night," I sigh, the days stretching out before me like an endless wait.

"Are you going back to his apartment?" she inquires, curiosity evident in her eyes.

"Ugh, my little sister moving out first; I can't handle it," Melanie declares dramatically, a playful pout on her face. I can't help but giggle at her theatrics.

She stands up, adopting a mock serious expression. "Maybe it's time for me to start collecting cats. Or do they find you? I always wondered that," she muses, a playful glint in her eyes.

I roll my eyes, amused by her whimsical thoughts. "You're 23, Melanie. I think it's early to think about cats. I'm pretty sure they'll find you when it's time, though," I tease, earning a face from her.

"I have to wash my face. I'm glad you're home," she says, a genuine smile breaking through as she leaves the room.

I sigh, glancing at the clock. Adam should be on his way now. I grab my phone and quickly type a message to him: "Miss you already."