Chapter Text
Mel hadn’t said anything about it this morning, which was fine, Langdon had decided.
As he threw his scrubs on and forced a protein shake down his throat, Mel had just risen from their shared bed, sipping on her green tea and discussing her plans for the afternoon. She had the day off and planned to visit Becca, maybe get some laundry done.
“Don’t work too hard today,” she said with a smile as she walked him to the door.
“No promises,” Langdon grinned back. He kissed her quickly and made his way outside.
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He was supervising one of the new med students suturing up an arm lac when he came to the conclusion that it wasn’t a big deal. She’d been busy recently, with attending interviews across Pittsburgh as she neared the end of her fellowship at Presby. It was totally reasonable for it to slip her mind.
Besides, he knew it had faded into the background. He wasn’t defined by it anymore. If you asked Langdon to describe himself, he would start with doctor, then father, then devoted husband (the second time around.) His distant past was, well, distant. Hell, he only remembered because of a text from Cassie.
Still, it was a little weird. It panged if he thought about it for too long. So he didn’t think about it, because it was fine.
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When Langdon returned home and parked the minivan fatherhood forced him to buy next to Mel’s beloved Subaru, he pulled his keys out of the ignition and decided he wasn’t going to say anything about it. It wouldn’t be fair. He knew Mel just forgot, and she’d feel terrible, and he couldn’t stand that.
So, normal evening. Normal dinner, normal trash reality TV on the couch, normal sex and normal bedtime. He could do normal.
When he walked into the house, all of the lights were on but he didn’t hear any movement. He called out for Mel, but it went unanswered. He started up the stairs until he heard the faint sound of Mel mumbling and cursing from the downstairs hallway.
“Mel?” He approached carefully, not wanting to spook her.
“Hang on. Wait right there.”
Then there was a loud pop, and confetti rained from the ceiling, streaming down to cover the living room. Mel walked into the room from around the corner with a self-satisfied smile on her face, confetti cannon in her hands. “Got it!”
“Mel, w-”
“Happy five years of sobriety,” she said as she enveloped him in a hug. “I’m so proud of you. I made your mom’s cake, it’s in the kitchen.”
Frank laughed at the absurdity of it all, and then as he pulled back from the hug and saw the adoration on her face, he fought back the tears. “I love you so much.”
Mel squeezed his hand, and leaned in for a quick kiss. “I love you more,” she said with a smile. “Now let’s eat and clean this up.”