Days of Our Lives

Days of Our Lives Chapter One: Helena and Melody bump heads, Melody meets her destiny, and Lenord reaches a bumpy road within his lifestyle.

Lenord Johnson held his heavy breath as he closed the door as gently as possible behind him, eyes darting to the wooden staircase anxiously. He held his breath by biting his bottom lip, the time seeming as if it were moving slow. When no sound was produced from upstairs, Lenord let out the breath and a sly smile emerged on his face. Another successful mission accomplished.

"Lenord, is that you?" A feeble voice ringing in Lenord's ears. He cursed under his breath before saying softly, "Yes, honey. I'm down here."

Quiet footsteps made way against the stairs, and a tall blond appeared with a worried expression sketched on her features. When her wide blue eyes landed on Lenord, she smiled in relief. She bumped against him as she stepped in front of him, searching his face eagerly. "I was so scared something had happened! It's nearly midnight, and you weren't answering my calls or texts," she murmured against his chest. Lenord couldn't help the smile that was once again appearing; Helena was just so adorable.

"Sweetie, my boss wanted me to stay a little longer. I got so engulfed in my work that I didn't even notice the time, and as soon as I realized it was late, I wanted to call you but my phone was dead." The lie slipped smoothly off of Lenord's tongue, and he watched triumphantly as a look of understanding danced in Helena's eyes.

Helena put both of her soft hands on Lenord's shoulders, pulling her into him as she gave him a light kiss on his cheek. "Well maybe you should start bringing your charger to work," she teased, rubbing her nose against his. Lenord wrapped his hands around Helena's lower back, causing her to squirm in protest. "Not down here!" she murmured, giggling as Lenord continued to tap his fingertips lightly on the top of her butt. "Melody might wake up and come down here."

Lenord couldn't fight the feeling of relief that washed over him; Helena didn't suspect a thing wrong with his excuse. She pulled away from him, swinging her hands with his large ones. Her eyes darkened, whispering, "If you want to tease me, be a man and carry me up to the room." Not being able to resist his suddenly frisky wife, Lenord pulled her into a heated kiss and carried her gently up the stairs per her request, commencing their last night of happiness.

***

Lenord woke up to the bright sun streaming over his face. The warm feel of his clothes surprised him; he vaguely remembered putting on any source of clothing after making love to Helena. He peered over his shoulder at her clad in her favorite pink robe and assumed that, by some miracle, she slipped on his clothes as he slept deeply. Not wanting to wake her, Lenord slipped out of bed quietly and make his way to the master bathroom to call dibs on the first shower.

Hot drops of water flowed on Lenord's exhausted skin, washing away traces of the previous day in three deep lathers of his favorite body wash. He slicked back his hair, taking his time to just enjoy the soothing stress reliever. He was definitely going to need it.

After the shower that accidentally lasted longer than he expected, Lenord went downstairs and into the dining room, where Melody was already chomping down her preferred breakfast of Lucky Charms. She looked intent in finishing the bowl in a hurry, which surprised Lenord. Did she have somewhere to be that afternoon? Forcing small talk with his only child was hard enough; Melody was not the open-to-her-parents type of kid.

"Good morning," Lenord began before taking a seat next to her. Melody visibly tensed up at his choice of seating, but ignored him and continued to eat in deep thought. She mumbled unintelligent words under the crumbs of cereal.

"Got any plans for the day?" he asked with a smile, hoping that it would cause her to smile as well. Nope. She glanced over at him briefly and shrugged, taking one last spoonful before tilting the bowl of milk to her mouth. Lenord scratched his head, trying to fumble in his mind something that would peak Melody's interest. "You know, your mom was planning on making your favorite pancakes with the chocolate chip smiley face," he said, suddenly remembering Helena's words to him as they spoke over the phone during his lunch break yesterday.

Melody stopped sipping - finally - and turned her attention to her father. "I hate chocolate. Chocolate is wasted calories."

Lenord was taken aback, and a part of him took that as his cue to just shut the hell up and stop trying for the day. But then again, when did Melody decide that she despised one of her favorite treats due to calories? Melody was already at a healthy weight for sixteen.

"Who cares?" he furrowed his eyebrows. "Just run them off! You know your mom buys the fat free ones anyway." Melody scoffed, toying with the spoon in the bowl. The cold grip of the handle cooled down her warm fingers from holding down the bowl too hard after she had eaten in a hurry.

"That's a lie," she muttered. "All foods that are supposedly organic and fat free are worse for you." The way she said those words made it seem like they were toxic, and even though Lenord viewed it as a bunch of mambo jumbo talk, it almost sounded convincing.

"Good morning to my favorite people in the entire world," Helena sang from the other side of the room, startling Lenord out of his train of thought. Both he and Melody stared at a beaming Helena, wondering how she could be so upbeat in the morning. She looked over at the tea kettle and the cups placed in neat rows around it, getting ready to thank Melody for setting it out for her as she noticed the empty bowl in front of her.

"You already ate?" Helena's face fell as Melody shrugged her shoulders nonchalantly. "Told you," Lenord said to Melody.

"What's the big deal?" Melody spat defiantly. "I woke up hours before you did, and I was starting to get hungry. I couldn't wait for your Iron Chef heart attack cakes."

Helena and Lenord stared at Melody with wide eyes, the sting of Melody's words affecting them both. "They're perfectly fine, Melody," Helena spoke gently, choosing her words carefully. No matter what value of kindness their words held, Melody would always come back with a wasp-like response.

Not choosing to answer, Melody retreated up the stairs silently, not looking at either one of her parents.

Melody lightly slammed the door of her room behind her, reaching for a tube of lipstick that sported a black shade. She heard Pharaoh rave on about it countless times, and she figured that today would be the day to give it a shot. Once it was applied, Melody stared at her reflection in her mirror, making various faces to see which one best showed off her bold color. The sound of approaching footsteps caused her to freeze on the stuck up face she was displaying, hoping that it wasn't Helena.

She was out of luck.

Helena entered and leaned against the wall, not really looking over at her daughter, but instead eyeing the posters next to Melody's door with distaste. "So, no pancakes huh?" Helena asked slowly, already knowing the answer. However, Melody chose not to respond and continued to examine her mouth for any trace of lipstick malfunction. The gasp from Helena only meant that she finally looked over and saw her dearest daughter wearing dark lipstick. Melody met Helena's gaze in the mirror and rolled her eyes.

"Chill, mom. It's just lipstick."

Helena felt her heart constrict, and the sight of the black lipstick that shaped Melody's mouth caused her to temporarily stop breathing. "How can you be okay with looking like a witch from Hell?" Helena exclaimed, looking over to Melody's makeup dresser and hoping that her usual tube of pale pink lipstick hadn't been discarded in exchange for the goth look.

"Look, Helena," Melody began, trying to brush away seeing the look of utter shock on Helena's face at the sound of her daughter using her first name. "I don't see what the big idea is using the makeup I want to use. My face is my canvas. I can do whatever I damn well please with it, whether you like it or not."

Helena stepped back, feeling as if Melody's words turned into a strong gust of wind. The sweet act dropped at once, and Helena suddenly mirrored Melody.

"Listen, young lady. I am your mother, and you will show me the utmost respect that I deserve!" Helena shouted. "Why do you just act like you run the world and can step on your father and I? We give you everything you need. Hell, if it wasn't for your father's paycheck, you wouldn't be able to get an allowance to buy that crazy ass lipstick in the first place!"

Melody winced at the truthful comeback, but quickly regained a smug look. "Why don't you just leave me alone? First, Pharaoh was a problem. Now I can't even express myself without my own mother judging me? You're a joke, Helena."

Helena's eye twitched at the mentioning of Pharaoh Mattson, the girl who raised all of the demons up from Melody's soul. She was a problem child, a criminal in the making, and Helena's natural motherly instinct kicked in and told Melody to stay away from the girl. "Please, please don't use her against me," Helena said, her voice calming into a quiet tone that shook with a plea. "Please don't go to her every time we fight. You'll only come back stronger."

Melody laughed - a dry, loud laugh that vibrated the ground - and retreated from wailing her hands at Helena to focus her attention back on the mirror. "Whatever, Helena. Just leave me alone. That's all I ask."

Helena opened her mouth to speak, but suddenly, she felt weak. As if someone poked a hole in her skin and all of the air left. She was deflated, a big heap of defeat. Before she closed the bedroom door behind her gently, she murmured, "Just...just please stay out of trouble."

Helena slouched on the ground nearby Melody's door, her mind reeling with what just conspired only seconds ago. "She hates me," she whispered, knowing that Lenord had already made his way upstairs once the yelling began, his warm body hovered over her. "Why does she hate me?"

"Why does she hate me?" Melody moaned into the compact mirror of her makeup kit, too lazy to remove the black lipstick per her mother's request. She was sprawled out on the plush white carpet of her bedroom, magazines of models who also wore striking lip products and pulled it off well, even the nerdy looking blond models such as herself.

What was the point of living if she didn't get to express herself?

With a sigh, Melody stood from her favorite spot in her room besides her bed and walked back over to the mirror with a tube of M.A.C in her hand. After pouting to put her usual pink lipstick on accurately, she continued to stare at her reflection. Her glasses perched on her nose suddenly made her feel like a round-faced Barbie who went to an Ivy League school. She bit her lip and yanked at the fabric of the dress that her Grandma Fran had bought her last summer to hug her curves. It made her feel fat the way the "compliment" slipped out of her nana's mouth when she handed over the wrapped dress. Melody knew she meant no harm, but it still triggered a sense of self-consciousness into her brain.

Flinching at her flaws, Melody threw herself on the bed and impatiently waited for the front door to close twice within the next forty-five minutes, signaling Helena and Lenord leaving. When she heard the door open a third time soon after the last door closing, she leaped out of her bed and skipped down the stairs and into the living room.

As always, Pharaoh sat Indian style instead on one of the three gray sofas placed in perfect symmetry around the room. Her red hair stood out against the background, and Melody felt a familiar pull of jealousy over how gorgeous Pharaoh could be without even trying. Next to her, contrasting the room in his own way, sat a guy with dark features - wild black hair, secretive brown eyes complimented with black eyeliner, black facial hair, a totally black outfit with the exception of white on his Converse, and lightly tanned skin from the summer sun to top it off.

Her dream guy in the flesh.

Pharaoh immediately looked up from the TV and leaped up at the very sight of her best friend, wrapping her arms around her and planting a fat kiss on her cheek. "Melly! You feeling smelly?" she teased in her casual jingle that sounded funnier with her thick British accent, but today, Melody was embarrassed to be dubbed that in front of the guy that Pharaoh brought along on her secret daily visit.

When Melody didn't answer and looked down at the ground, Pharaoh could read her like an open book. A Cheshire Cat smile danced against Pharaoh's red lips and cleared her throat innocently. "Patrick, this is Melody, the cool chick I ramble on to you about; Melody, this is my doofus cousin Patrick. He lives in San Fran, but he's staying here for the rest of the summer because he couldn't stand to be away from me for another minute." She ended the too-long introduction with a snort, squeezing onto Melody and resting her chin on her shoulder for a quick second before bounding over to the couch by Patrick. She patted the spot next to her, beckoning Melody to follow suit.

"Come get comfy, sista. After all, this is your house!" she exclaimed, and Melody wished that her best friend would shut up just this one time.

Pharaoh once against must have read Melody's mind, because when her bony butt settled into the couch's cushion, her red mouth stopped moving and focused on the movie. For some odd reason, in the presence of Pharaoh, Melody felt invisible. But only when Pharaoh wasn't the one doing the talking. Scooting closer and slightly leaning over Pharaoh's lap, Melody eyed the boy from across the way with what she wanted to believe was an uninterested, but nonetheless polite you're-the-guest-in-my-home look.

"'Sup?" she said, her voice managing to crack over the small, one syllable greeting. Shit. Patrick didn't bother to look at her, let alone the TV. Instead, his light brown eyes stared at the wallpaper of the living room. "Why is half of the living room one color, but the adjoined dining room is a totally different color that doesn't even match?" Patrick's light accent in comparison to Pharaoh's threw Melody off, the deep growl that echoed in his words causing her stomach to churn with butterflies. "Maybe the misses should rearrange the wallpaper."

Trying to sound somewhat cool, Melody scoffed and tossed back a strand of her blond hair for emphasis. "My mom is a pain in the ass," Melody said, her palms shaking at the very thought. At least Patrick chose something to talk about that didn't make her shake with nervousness, but with passion. Patrick let his eyes linger on the wall a little longer before muttering, "Whose isn't?"

When Patrick's attention focused on the screen, Melody decided that it wouldn't hurt to finally check out what they've been watching. The Dark Knight. Of course; it was only Pharaoh's favorite movie in the entire universe of movies, as she admitted in a drunken phone call to Melody one night.

Even though that much was true, the light snoring of Pharaoh was heard twenty minutes later, and an awkward air passed between Melody and Patrick. Patrick, however, wasn't having it. Leaning over and resting his arm over Pharaoh's shoulder, he whispered, "You know, she may be a nutcase, but you're awfully lucky to have a bloke like her."

Melody gave a small smile over to Patrick, which he briefly returned before realizing what he was doing. "Take care of her though; she's a little feisty one." Pharaoh raised a hand in her sleep, making dog sounds. Melody let out her loud, snorting laughter, blushing at Patrick's humorous reaction to the sound. "Point proven," he muttered, biting his lip to keep from laughing.

Suddenly, Pharaoh's scrawny body slid off of the couch and she hit the floor, shooting open her eyes instantly and looking around the room frantically, grinning like an idiot at the sight of her two companions. "I'm starved. Let's go grab some sushi at the place, yeah?"

***

"I just don't get it, Nicole," Helena said, eyes hooded to observe the chess board in front of her carefully. "I feel as if I failed as a parent. We give her everything her heart desires, and she rewards us with everything our hearts need to be destroyed!"

Nicole's warm chuckle pierced the air when she watched Helena make the wrong move. She skillfully moved her piece of choice next, which caused Helena to curse. "What a wonderful way to express teenage angst," Nicole said, sitting up straight and putting off the chess game for a moment. "That's all it is - Melody is sixteen now, and sixteen is a very dangerous age. She still loves you deep down inside...maybe she's just getting caught up in the wrong crowd?"

Helena, exasperated, threw her hands up in the air and frowned. "Okay, don't get me wrong," she began, her scowl deepening. "I love my Melbel to bits and pieces. But is she that fucking stupid to turn around and get involved with the wrong crowd? I don't think so."

Nicole raised a black eyebrow, toying with one of the chess pieces. "What about that Pariah or Phoebe chick you mentioned?"

Helena groaned - even though Nicole said her name wrong - at the sound of Melody's friend. "And that's another thing," she murmured, running her fingertips against the fresh scratch she received from their cat. "Our arguments always lead to her being friends with Pharaoh. Like, I don't even bring her up first; it's al-" Helena slowly came to a halt, squinting her eyes at her best friend's suddenly pained expression. She noticed Nicole's flinching of a car door slamming nearby behind Helena, where Nicole focused her attention and snapped her glance away as if waking up from a daze. "Um, Nicole, is everything alright?" she asked hesitantly, and a curt shake of the head in response caused Helena's stomach to twist. Uh, oh.

"Helena, there's something you need to know."

Lenord leaned against the railing of the brown wooden fence, rubbing his neck with one hand and carrying a bouquet of roses in the other. He gave the door in front of him one swift knock before taking a deep breath and practicing various different smiles. He was so excited to surprise the woman of his dreams, the woman of his life.

The door creaked open, no sign of his wonderful lady anywhere, but the sweet smell of her Victoria's Secret perfume trailed a path for him, and he followed hungrily until he reached the bedroom.

The woman stood in front of her well made bed, blushing as her eyes darted over to Lenord's face. "You made it," she said in a tight, excited whisper. Lenord bit his lip and sauntered over to the tall brunette clad in his favorite outfit, rubbing her back and kissing her neck furiously.

"Of course I did, baby. I wouldn't miss making love to you for the world."

***

"This food is sketchy, I ain't eating it," Patrick's first words when the food was served by Sushi by the Beach's owner herself. He poked at a piece of fish, lips turning to a disgusted grimace when the fish plopped back into place.

Pharaoh stared down her cousin through the shades of her funky cheetah glasses, throwing a California roll in her mouth and chewing thoughtfully before saying with a mouthful, "Melody used to go fishing herself." She drew her eyes away from Patrick and over at Melody, who was displaying a fresh coat of blush against the mention of one of her pastimes with her dad.

"Oh, yeah?" Patrick retorted, eyes shifting over to Melody for what seemed like the first time since they met. "Betcha didn't catch a shark."

Melody almost laughed, shaking her head as she sat up in her chair. She felt the sudden rush she got whenever she talked about fishing, and she made a mental reminder to slap Pharaoh for bringing it up in front of a hot guy. But with the smug look plastered on her best friend's face from across the table, Melody had a feeling Pharaoh already knew.

"No, but I caught a bass that was this big," Melody exclaimed, displaying the size with her arm stretching out next to her. "Seems gross, but my parents thanked me when we cooked it up at our neighborhood barbecue the other night."

Patrick laughed a laugh that didn't reach his eyes. "So what? The girl who wants to break free from mummy dearest also goes fishing for mummy dearest, and then attends the party with those painfully obnoxious drones that live around you, that, might I add, the mummy dearest is also attending?"

Melody sank in her chair and continued to blush. Goddammit.

"Anyway," Pharaoh said, letting her sunglasses fall down her nose as she peeked up from them innocently. "I have a new boy toy to chew on and spit out whenever I damn well please as of last night."

Patrick groaned and rubbed his face in his hands, suddenly focusing on the "sketchy" sushi in front of him. He took a hesitant bite, chewed, and swallowed. "This is pretty damn good," he said, taking another bite and stuffing more. If Pharaoh tried to probe any comment in regards to her love life out of him, he couldn't answer with a full mouth.

Melody, on the other hand, was engulfed in the new topic and totally put aside the fish embarrassment. "A boy toy? You got a new boyfriend?! What's his name?" she exclaimed, bouncing in her seat. Pharaoh laughed and Patrick gave her a quizzical glare before stuffing another fish in his mouth.

"Not telling you in front of this spazz," Pharaoh mumbled, sticking out her tongue at her cousin. But he didn't mind; she had earned a shrug from him and eyes that traveled back down to his food.

"Let's go to your house then," Melody said, pushing away her mostly consumed platter of sushi. Not taking no for an answer in a rash attempt to show Patrick she could be in charge, Melody slapped a twenty on the table and stood up, but not before a bubbling Pharaoh.

"PAAAARTAY AT PHARBEAR'S HOUSE!" Pharaoh exclaimed on top of the folding chair, making breathy screams to mimic an excited crowd. "TODAY'S MAIN COURSE IS BOYS. BOYS, BOYS, BOYS!"

Patrick tiptoed away from the girls, trying to slip away before they noticed. "Is Patrick not coming with us?" Melody whispered in Pharaoh's ear, hoping that she wasn't coming off desperate to continue watching Patrick across the way from her.

"Where ya going, mate? Don't you want to sit and chat with us about boy fantasies too?" Pharaoh called after her cousin, who stopped short in his tracks only to turn around and give Pharaoh the finger. "Fuck off, I'm not gay," he grumbled. "I have things to take care of down at the...the uh, the coffee shop. So...uh, yeah."

Melody and Pharaoh laughed at Patrick's bullshit excuse to why he couldn't go back to Pharaoh's house before all three of them walked out the door and started walking to their destinations.

"You so think Patrick is cute."

"So what? Maybe I have a thing for rebels without a cause."

"He's a wanker. Surely you could find someone waaay better, and way hotter underneath the boxers, if ya catch my drift."

Melody looked over at a dangling Pharaoh, a horrified expression taking over her features. Pharaoh casually dangled her legs in the air and played with her red hair now twisted in braids. Her red face, blue eyes, and red hair reminded Melody of a hotter teenage version of Raggedy Ann and the Wendy's girl infused together.

"I'm just kidding, jeez." Pharaoh said with a laugh. "I've never seen my cousin's penis, nor do I ever plan on seeing it."

Pharaoh collapsed on the brown carpet of her large bedroom, leaning against her couch and staring off into space. Melody joined her on the ground, bumping against her shoulder gently. The smell of coconut perfume from Pharaoh soothed her, and she wished that she could live the life she did. Silence took over the usually prattling set of friends before Pharaoh spoke in a quiet tone.

"'Name's Cleo. He's a tattoo artist with no tattoos. He has tons of piercings on his face, but he doesn't wear them all at once. Says it's a cool way to promote to society that he doesn't have to wear a damned piece of jewelry just because the hole is there. My favorite thing about him appearance wise is the 'hawk on his head. He looks absolutely divine with that thing," Pharaoh murmured about her new lover, a smile creeping on her face when his name came out of her mouth.

Melody hesitated to ask the next question, since Pharaoh always had a way of making every guy she dated seem perfect and watching them turn out to be the total opposite. "Phare, just how old is Cleo? I'm guessing over eighteen since he's a tattoo artist."

Pharaoh sucked in a breath, knowing that the question was about to come out of Melody. Pharaoh could tell Melody that her boyfriend was a cancer survivor, won the lottery, lived in a big mansion on the outskirts of town, or best friends with Justin Timberlake, and Melody still worked her way around the amazing characteristics to ask the age of the guy.

"Not telling this time, buttercup." Pharaoh stood up, silently dismissing the conversation. "You're going to meet him tomorrow, and you'll absolutely love him, I promise!"

Melody's mind clicked back to earlier that morning with the sudden wave of self-consciousness pulling over her. If she had known that a hot guy like Patrick would be downstairs, she never would've went down, too ashamed to display herself to such an adorable piece of life, let alone an even hotter guy Pharaoh described as her boyfriend. "No way," she said, shaking her head. "You can go ahead and hang out with him. I have nothing cute to wear; everything I own makes me look like a bloated blond whale with glasses for some reason."

Pharaoh made a sad face at the mentioning of her friend feeling fat, but then crackled out a laugh. "...with glasses for some reason, huh?"

At once, Pharaoh reached out her arm for Melody to take, pulling her up and dragging her over to the assortment of clothes she owned hanging on metal racks. "Pick out anything ya like, babe," Pharaoh said, pinching a few dresses out of curiosity for herself. "Take anything your little heart desires. Stacy takes me shopping every other day anyway, so I won't even notice if something's missing."

Melody sighed and decided not to bother telling Pharaoh that her clothes were way too small for her flabby butt, and instead getting lost in the kooky fashion world of Pharaoh.

"Maybe we can just do an entire makeover on ya if that'll snap you out of that nasty doubting phase," Pharaoh mumbled behind a pink dress with zigzag patterns. "How does that sound?"

Once again, Pharaoh reached for Melody's arm and led her out to the living room that she shared with her sister Stacy, where Stacy was sitting on the couch but not really regarding the TV in front of her. Her physical display suggested she was tired, and Melody felt awful for bothering her. Pharaoh, however, paid no mind as she cleared her throat.

"Got any of that makeup you bought from Sephora? You're around Smelly Melly's complexion, and I'm giving her a makeover."

Stacy stretched and shook her head as if she were daydreaming before recovering with a smile and a slight wave towards Melody. "Oh, sure sure. Go rummage through the bathroom cabinet; everything you need is there."

Pharaoh leaped in the air and hi-fived Melody before turning around and headed toward the small refrigerator she shared with her sister. Melody envied the setup of their home; Pharaoh's room was a scattered mess of clothes and every type of fashion galore, posters of her favorite bands strung up on her wall proudly no matter how much black lipstick they wore. Melody imagined Stacy's bedroom was even crazier, their bathroom as well. The living room even showed some creativity; one single sofa was placed in front of a television straight out of the 50's, and a yellow beanbag which Melody assumed belonged to Pharaoh sat next to the couch, not caring if it didn't match the couch. Vogue and Elle magazines were scattered lazily on the coffee table, all of these things that would make Helena cringe. Screw having a perfectionist mom.

As Melody waited for Pharaoh to grab something out of the refrigerator, Melody stood awkwardly next to a now sprawled out Stacy, who looked over just as Chuck Bass appeared with his seductive looking mouth on camera.

"You know," Stacy said, startling Melody away from the screen. "You're very lucky to have your dad around. Especially a guy like your dad. Hold onto him close, you'll never know when he'll disappear from your life."

Pharaoh snorted from where she still held open the door to the suddenly cold box that sent goosebumps down Melody's skin. "I invite one friend over ever, and you're already scaring her away with your bloody wisdom," Pharaoh called over to Stacy, who continued her dark blue eyes on the rerun of Gossip Girl.

But Melody couldn't shake the words from her mind.

***

Lenord slouched in the comfortable chair that sat in the corner of his home office, clad in his favorite pullover that he usually wore only when he went out at night; it was her favorite sweater as well. The thought of her caused a smile to tug at the corner of his mouth, and he sighed in contentment.

The sound of the door to his office opening snapped him out of his trance, and the blond with silky skin and locks of hair thrown on top of her head sauntered over to him. Lenord darted his tongue out to lick his lips, eyeing the way Helena shimmied in her infamous lacy polka-dotted corset, the one she wore whenever it was a holiday.

But today was just a regular day in June.

Lenord's smile fell as he carefully regarded Helena. Something in his gut burned at the sight of a tear rolling down her cheek, which she batted away as she knelt down in front of her husband. All traces of makeup washed from her face and a sorrowful frown, Lenord suddenly knew what was coming next.

"You're cheating on me."