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Movie Night was over.
The screen went black, but the damage lingered, hanging over the villa like a storm cloud. Islanders slowly pushed themselves to their feet, voices overlapping into a deafening roar. Somewhere nearby, Trinity’s voice cut through the chaos.
“Pieces of shit!”
Again.
"Honestly, fuck y'all!"
The words echoed across the fire pit as arguments erupted from every direction. Someone was crying. Someone else was shouting over them. Footsteps hurried across the patio, and producers urged everyone to keep moving.
Melanie barely noticed.
She felt a pair of arms wrap around her shoulders, warm, familiar. Maybe it was Aniya. Maybe someone else. She couldn’t tell anymore.
Everything around her dissolved into a blur.
The shouting became muffled, as though she were underwater. Faces passed in front of her, mouths moving without sound. The lights that had seemed so bright moments ago now swam together until they hurt to look at.
She couldn’t breathe.
Her hands trembled uncontrollably in her lap, the shaking spreading through her arms until it settled deep in her chest. Her head spun violently, every clip from the screen replaying against her will.
Every lie.
Every excuse.
Every moment she’d questioned her own instincts.
She didn’t know what she was feeling anymore.
Embarrassment. Humiliation. Betrayal.
Or maybe it was the crushing realization that she hadn’t been imagining any of it, that every doubt she’d swallowed, every instinct she’d second-guessed, had been right all along.
The world tilted beneath her.
“Mela?”
A gentle hand squeezed her forearm.
“Melanie?”
She blinked, the villa slowly coming back into focus. The shouting had quieted, replaced by scattered murmurs and the occasional sharp curse carried through the night air.
Aniya was kneeling in front of her, brows knitted together with concern.
“You okay?”
The question almost made Melanie laugh. It was a stupid question and Aniya knew it was a stupid question. Nobody who had just sat through Movie Night was okay.
Still, that was Aniya.
She asked because she cared. She checked in because that was simply who she was. Even when she already knew the answer, she wanted you to know you weren’t carrying it alone.
Melanie swallowed the lump in her throat, unable to find the words.
Across the villa, the boys had drifted together near the opposite side of the fire pit, speaking in hushed voices that occasionally rose into frustrated curses before dropping back into whispers. Whether they were trying to explain themselves, defend each other, or simply escape the girls’ eyes, she didn’t know.
And honestly? She didn’t care.
Good.
They should stay over there. As far away from them as possible.
A bitter scoff escaped her before she could stop it. She resented every single one of them.
Maybe that wasn’t fair. Maybe some of them had done less than others. Maybe some genuinely regretted what they’d done. Maybe not all of them deserved to be judged by the same standard.
But tonight, Melanie couldn’t bring herself to care. Tonight, they all wore the same face. The same face that had laughed, hidden things, twisted words, and made women question themselves.
Her gaze drifted back to Aniya.
Sweet, beautiful Aniya.
The girl had spent weeks making everyone else feel seen. Whether it was comforting someone after an argument, checking in after a recoupling, or simply sitting beside whoever looked lonely, Aniya somehow always found enough kindness to go around.
And what had she gotten in return?
Disrespect.
KC had chipped away at that kindness piece by piece, acting like her patience was something to take advantage of instead of something to cherish.
Melanie’s chest tightened.
Aniya deserved so much more than that.
Her eyes wandered toward Carl, who stood a little apart from the others.
He wasn’t saying much.
She hoped tonight wouldn’t change whatever was growing between him and Aniya and that he saw her the way the girls did. She hoped he understood that beneath the laughter and the warmth was someone who deserved to be chosen without hesitation. Someone who deserved certainty.
From what Melanie had seen, Carl seemed to understand Aniya in a way that felt effortless. He fit into her world instead of trying to change it. He met her kindness with kindness, matched her warmth, and somehow always managed to bring out that cheeky grin that lit up her whole face. He treated her like she was something precious.
Melanie smiled to herself. Her girl deserved that.
She deserved the kind of love people rolled their eyes at in rom-coms. The kind of relationship where she never had to question where she stood, because she’d be reminded every single day that she was chosen. With actions. Not words.
Silence settled over the villa.
It was strange. This place was never quiet. There was always someone laughing too loudly, someone pulling another person for a chat, someone flirting by the kitchen or splashing around in the pool.
Tonight…
Nothing.
The girls stayed with the girls.
The boys stayed with the boys.
An invisible line had been drawn across the villa, and nobody dared cross it. Movie Night had stripped them of every excuse.
Even Trinity and Bryce, the strongest couple in the villa, looked worlds apart.
Melanie glanced toward Trinity.
She was still fuming, pacing with restless energy, every protective instinct she possessed written across her face.
Trinity loved hard. And when she loved you, she defended you with everything she had. Tonight, she’d fought for every girl standing in this villa without thinking twice.
A warmth settled beneath the ache in Melanie’s chest.
She didn’t know which couples would survive, who would forgive, or whether some hearts had been broken beyond repair.
But if there was one thing she knew she’d leave this villa with, no matter what happened next, it was her girls.
No one could take that away.
She looked back at Aniya, whose worried expression hadn’t changed once.
Despite everything, Melanie found herself smiling. Aniya smiled back immediately, relief washing over her features.
Melanie reached over, giving her hand a reassuring squeeze. “I will be,” she said softly, her voice steadier than she felt. “I promise.”
The villa seemed to exhale all at once.
When Melanie glanced back toward the opposite side, the boys were gone.
Not one of them remained. They’d already gone inside.
A humorless huff escaped her lips.
Cowards.
Not one of them had stayed. Not one of them had been brave enough to face the aftermath they’d created.
Without another word, the girls began making their way toward the bedroom together, their footsteps slow and reluctant. Melanie followed a few paces behind before coming to a stop.
“No… I’ll stay here,” she said quietly. “I’ll probably sleep in Soul Ties.”
Every single one of them stopped. They turned around almost in unison.
Kayda’s brows pinched together with concern. “Are you sure?”
Melanie managed a small nod.
“I just… need to clear my head for a bit.”
None of them looked convinced. There was a brief silence as they exchanged glances, silently debating whether they should leave her alone.
Before they headed inside, each of the girls found their way to her.
Aniya pulled her into another hug, rubbing soothing circles over her back. Trinity held her face for a second before wrapping her arms around her so tightly Melanie thought she might crack a rib. Jen squeezed her hand. Kayda whispered that none of this was her fault. One by one, they reminded her that she’d done nothing wrong, that she wasn’t crazy, that she would get through this.
They couldn’t undo what she’d seen.
They couldn’t make the hurt disappear.
But somehow, with every embrace and every reassuring word, the weight on her chest became just a little easier to carry.
Once the girls disappeared inside, Melanie let out a slow breath she hadn’t realized she’d been holding. Her feet carried her almost absentmindedly toward the dock.
The villa faded behind her with every step until all that remained was the rhythmic crash of the waves against the wooden posts and the soft whisper of the night breeze.
She came to a stop at the edge, wrapping her arms around herself as she stared out at the endless stretch of black water. Moonlight danced across the surface, turning the ocean into rippling silver. A cool breeze swept through, lifting strands of her hair and sending a shiver racing down her spine but she barely noticed.
Her eyes remained fixed on the horizon, but all she could see were fragments of the past few weeks playing over and over in her mind. Sincere’s smile. The way he’d looked at her and promised she had nothing to worry about. Every conversation where he’d reassured her she was overthinking, that she was reading too much into things, that he was all in on her. How had it gotten to this? The question echoed relentlessly, refusing to leave her alone. Had she really been that blind, or had some part of her known all along? She searched herself for the answer, turning over every memory until they blurred together. Maybe she’d seen it. Maybe she’d caught the inconsistencies every single time. The lingering looks, the conversations that didn’t quite add up, the nagging feeling in her stomach she could never shake. She’d noticed them all.
But every time her instincts begged her to walk away, she’d found another reason to stay. Because he always had an explanation. Because he knew exactly what to say to soften the edges of her doubts. Because believing him was so much easier than accepting the possibility that the connection she’d been holding onto wasn’t as real as she’d hoped. She’d let herself be convinced that trust meant giving him another chance, then another, and another after that. Looking back now, the signs seemed painfully obvious, almost impossible to miss. She hadn’t ignored them because she was stupid. She’d ignored them because she wanted so badly to be wrong, because admitting her instincts were right would have meant admitting the person she was falling for wasn’t who she believed him to be.
That was the part she couldn’t make peace with.
This wasn’t her.
She’d always prided herself on knowing when to walk away, on never letting anyone make her question her worth. She’d been the first to remind the girls of that whenever they forgot it themselves. She thought back to the conversations she’d had with Aniya, the advice she’d given so confidently. If a man keeps showing you who he is, believe him. Don’t let potential outweigh reality. You deserve someone who chooses you without hesitation.
The irony almost made her laugh.
She’d done the exact opposite.
When had she become that girl? When had she grown so attached that she’d started making excuses for behavior she would have never accepted from anyone else? Somewhere between the butterflies, the late-night conversations, and the hope that tomorrow would be different, she’d slowly lost sight of herself. Piece by piece, she’d compromised the very standards she’d always lived by, convincing herself that patience was strength and forgiveness was proof of love. But sitting there now, with the sea stretching endlessly before her, she realized she’d spent so much time trying to hold onto him that she’d almost let go of herself and that hurt far more than anything Movie Night had shown her.
And maybe the part she hated the most was that, despite everything, she still missed him.
She missed Sincere.
She’d missed him every single day during Casa. No matter how much she laughed with the girls or tried to distract herself, there had always been a part of her counting down the days until she’d see him again. She remembered the relief that had washed over her when he’d walked back into the villa alone. For a brief moment, she’d thought, We’re okay. We made it. She’d wanted so badly to run into his arms and believe that everything they had survived had only made them stronger.
But something had already changed.
When he walked back into the villa alone, she hadn’t smiled.
She’d yelled.
She’d let every ounce of hurt and anger she’d bottled up during Casa spill out because she needed him to understand what he’d put her through. But beneath every accusation, beneath every frustrated tear, was relief. Relief that he’d come back alone. Relief that maybe, just maybe, they still had a chance.
She’d wanted to believe that was enough.
She’d wanted to believe they could rebuild.
But the doubt never really left.
It lingered after every reassurance he gave her, after every apology, after every promise that things would be different. No matter how desperately she wanted to trust him again, something inside her had already begun to splinter. Every inconsistency she brushed aside. Every uneasy feeling she convinced herself to ignore. Every time she accepted an explanation that didn’t quite make sense because the alternative hurt too much to face.
Little by little, the cracks spread.
And then Movie Night came along and shattered whatever she had been trying so desperately to hold together. Everything she’d spent weeks convincing herself wasn’t true was suddenly staring back at her on a giant screen, impossible to deny, impossible to explain away. There was nothing left to patch, nothing left to salvage. The foundation had finally given out beneath her.
She let out a slow, trembling breath, her gaze never leaving the endless stretch of water before her.
She really wanted to find love.
She really did.
The kind that felt easy. The kind that made you feel chosen every single day without having to ask for reassurance. She had wanted her person. She had wanted the butterflies, the late-night conversations, the inside jokes that only the two of them understood. She’d wanted the kind of romance she’d spent years watching in movies, secretly hoping one day it would be hers.
For a while, she’d convinced herself that person was Sincere.
She’d let herself dream.
She’d pictured what life outside the villa would look like, imagined introducing him to the people she loved, imagined looking back on this experience and thinking, It was all worth it because it led me to him.
But that wasn’t her story.
That wasn’t her rom-com.
Maybe this simply wasn’t her time.
The thought settled heavily in her chest.
A familiar sting pricked at the corners of her eyes.
“Melanie.”
A deep voice behind her cut through the silence.
She froze. She knew that voice.
Her shoulders stiffened before she slowly turned around.
“…Corbin?”
He stood a few feet away, hands tucked into the pockets of his hoodie, looking strangely out of place. For the first time since she’d met him, he looked… hesitant. Like he’d walked over without thinking it through and was only now realizing he had no idea what to say.
His eyes found hers.
Then they flickered to the tears she was so desperately trying to hold back. Surprise washed across his face, quickly replaced by something softer she couldn't name.
Melanie didn’t know what to make of him anymore.
She was too exhausted to try.
If she was being honest, after Sincere, Corbin had disappointed her the most. Maybe even more than KC.
When they’d first been coupled up, she’d genuinely liked him. He was easy to be around. Funny without trying too hard, calm in a villa that constantly felt like it was on the verge of exploding. Being around him had felt effortless, and despite where her heart ultimately landed, she’d always appreciated that.
There had even been a point, brief as it was, where she’d caught herself wondering.
If Sincere hadn’t been here…
Would they have had a real chance?
She’d never let herself entertain the thought for long, but it had crossed her mind.
Then Casa happened.
She watched the clips the same as everyone else and it was like she was watching a completely different person. The calm, respectful guy she’d gotten to know was suddenly gone. He’d tried to explain it away as the heat of the moment, but Melanie couldn’t bring herself to accept that. The heat of the moment didn’t make you disrespect people. It didn’t make you speak about Kenzie the way he had. Those were choices.
That was what disappointed her.
Because when they had been coupled up, Corbin had never made her feel disrespected. Quite the opposite, actually. Even though she was still hung up on Sincere, Corbin had always treated her with kindness. He respected her boundaries and respected the connection they were trying to build. Looking back, she’d appreciated that more than she’d ever admitted.
Then Movie Night had chipped away at that too.
The clip of him kissing Kenzie while they were still coupled flashed through her mind. Under any other circumstance, she probably would’ve been upset. She probably would’ve demanded answers. But after everything she’d just watched involving Sincere, it barely registered. It had been buried beneath a mountain of bigger hurts.
Still…
Seeing Corbin standing in front of her now dragged that memory right back to the surface.
Another reminder that maybe she hadn’t known any of them as well as she’d thought.
She looked up at him, too emotionally drained to hide the bitterness coating her voice.
“What do you want?” The words came out sharper than she’d intended.
Corbin opened his mouth.
“I…”
The word lingered between them before fading into the sound of the waves.
He stopped.
Corbin was always quiet, but now more than ever, he seemed at a total loss for words. His jaw tightened as if he were searching for the right thing to say, only to realize there probably wasn’t one.
The night air had grown colder without Melanie noticing. Another gust of wind swept across the dock, sending goosebumps racing up her arms. She instinctively rubbed at them, trying to ignore the shiver that escaped her.
Corbin noticed.
Without a word, he reached behind his neck and pulled his black hoodie over his head, leaving himself in nothing but a white sleeveless undershirt.
He held the hoodie out toward her.
Melanie frowned. “…I’m fine.”
He didn’t argue. He simply placed the hoodie gently in her lap before lowering himself onto the dock beside her, leaving a respectful distance between them. His eyes remained fixed on the ocean ahead, as if he understood that whatever conversation was about to happen would happen on her terms, or not at all.
Melanie looked down at the hoodie resting in her hands. She didn’t know why that small gesture caught her off guard.
After another chilly breeze rolled in, she sighed softly and slipped the hoodie over her head.
It was still warm from him.
She hated that it was comforting. She should’ve thanked him but the words settled somewhere in her throat.
They never made it out.
Silence stretched between them, broken only by the gentle rhythm of the waves against the dock.
Melanie frowned. She still didn’t understand why he was here. Why had he followed her?
She let out a quiet sigh, pulling the sleeves of his hoodie over her hands.
“Corbin…” she began, her voice tired more than anything. “I don’t know what you want, but I’m really not up for—”
“You know…” he cut in softly, his eyes never leaving the water, “we could just…” He paused, scratching the back of his neck. “…sit here and shut the fuck up.” A small, knowing smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. “We can…” He glanced over at her. “…ocean watch.”
The terrible joke hung in the air.
For a second, Melanie just stared at him.
Then, despite herself, the corners of her lips twitched.
It was a reference to one of their old conversations, back when things had been simple, when they were coupled up and would sit for hours making each other laugh over the dumbest things.
A breath escaped her that almost sounded like a laugh.
“That was awful,” she muttered, shaking her head.
“I know.”
His grin widened just enough to make her roll her eyes.
She was still angry with him.
Nothing about tonight had changed that. Nothing erased Casa. Nothing erased Movie Night.
But Corbin’s presence… was calm and familiar.
And for the first time all evening, she didn’t feel like someone expected something from her. It was oddly comforting.
So she simply nodded.
Together, they turned their attention back to the ocean, letting the silence settle between them.
She wasn’t sure how much time had passed.
Five minutes.
Maybe thirty.
The silence between them never became uncomfortable. The waves continued their steady rhythm, the breeze still carried the scent of salt through the air, and beside her, Corbin remained exactly where he was, never once trying to fill the quiet with words.
Eventually, Melanie found herself looking at him.
She hesitated. There was so much she wanted to say. She needed to talk to someone. And he was there.
Instead, she stayed silent.
Because where would she even begin?
How could she explain the mess inside her own head when she couldn’t even make sense of it herself? She was angry. Heartbroken. Embarrassed. Relieved that the truth was finally out. Furious that she’d ignored it for so long. And somehow… despite everything… she still missed Sincere.
She hated herself for that the most.
No one would understand. And truthfully, she couldn’t blame them. She didn’t even understand herself.
The words gathered in her throat anyway, heavy enough to make it hard to breathe, begging to be spoken if only someone would pull them out of her.
As if sensing the battle unfolding beside him, Corbin turned his head.
“What is it?” he asked quietly.
As if the question had been the final thread holding her together, it snapped.
A tear slipped down her cheek.
Then another.
She didn’t even try to stop them this time.
“I don’t know what’s wrong with me,” she whispered, her voice trembling. “I keep replaying everything in my head, trying to figure out where it all went wrong. I keep asking myself if I was blind… or if I knew the whole time and just didn’t want to believe it.” She let out a shaky laugh, one that carried no humor. “I think… I think I knew. Maybe not all of it, but enough. Enough that I should’ve walked away.”
Corbin remained silent. He simply looked at her, giving a small nod for her to continue.
“I’ve never been this girl.” She wiped at her cheeks with the sleeve of his hoodie. “I’ve always been the one telling my friends to trust themselves, to never settle, to leave the second someone made them question their worth. I literally told Aniya all of that. I told her she deserved certainty.” She scoffed at herself. “And then I turned around and did the exact opposite. I kept making excuses. I kept saying, ‘Maybe this time it’ll be different.’ I don’t even recognize myself anymore.”
She drew in a shaky breath before continuing, the words pouring out faster now.
“I wanted this so badly, Corbin.” She stared out at the ocean, afraid to look at him. “I really wanted to find love. I wasn’t here for the attention or the followers or any of that. I just… I wanted my person. I wanted someone who’d look at me and know I was enough. I thought…” Her voice cracked. “I thought it was him.”
Another tear rolled down her face.
“I missed him so much during Casa.” She laughed bitterly, shaking her head. “That’s what makes me feel so pathetic. Every day he was gone, I missed him. When he walked back in alone, I was angry, yeah, but underneath all that I was relieved. I thought we still had a chance. I wanted to believe we could fix it.” She swallowed hard. “But even then… I couldn’t trust him. Something had already changed, and I kept pretending it hadn’t.”
She hugged her knees closer to her chest.
“And then Movie Night…” she whispered. “It was like every feeling I’d been trying to bury got thrown back in my face. Every doubt I’d convinced myself I was imagining… I wasn’t imagining any of it.” She closed her eyes. “I wasn’t crazy.”
Her breathing became uneven.
“And I hate…” She paused, pressing her lips together as fresh tears streamed down her face. “I hate that after all of this… after everything I watched tonight… a part of me still misses him.” She shook her head in frustration. “How does that even make sense? How can I be so angry, so hurt, and still miss someone who made me feel this way? I don’t understand myself.”
The words kept coming.
“I feel embarrassed.” she admitted quietly. “Everyone saw how stupid I was. I’m embarrassed because I ignored myself. I abandoned myself. I kept choosing him every time my own instincts begged me not to. I wanted my stupid rom-com so badly that I convinced myself this had to be it. That if I just held on a little longer, it’d all work out.”
She let out a broken breath.
“And now I don’t even know if love like that exists for me.”
The words faded into the sound of the waves.
For a long moment, neither of them spoke.
Melanie let out a slow, shaky breath, feeling as though the weight she’d been carrying on her chest for weeks had eased, if only slightly. She hadn’t realized how desperately she’d needed to say it all out loud until the words had finally left her. They’d been sitting inside her for so long, tangled together with guilt, anger, hope, and heartbreak, that she’d forgotten what it felt like to breathe without them pressing against her ribs.
She felt lighter.
She glanced over at Corbin.
He hadn’t interrupted her once. He hadn’t tried to offer some cliché comfort line that would only make everything hurt more. He had simply listened. Really listened.
She hadn’t realized how much she’d needed that.
Someone to listen. Someone to let her fall apart without trying to put her back together before she was ready.
For that, she was immensely grateful.
Another thought crept into the back of her mind. One she’d been trying to outrun all night.
Slowly, she turned to face Corbin fully.
Her eyes were red and swollen, her cheeks damp with tears that refused to stop falling.
“Why?” she whispered.
The single word hung between them.
“Why was he acting like that?” Her voice cracked. “I was… I was completely invested in our connection. I gave him everything I had.” She searched Corbin’s face as if he somehow held an answer. “What went wrong?”
Fresh tears spilled over.
“Why did he feel the need to lie so much?” she asked, her breathing becoming uneven. “Why wasn’t I enough? Why did he have to explore another connection that deeply if he kept telling me he wanted me?”
She looked away, shaking her head.
“Was it the challenge?”
The memory made her stomach twist.
“Did he never really get over it?” she whispered. “I know I messed up. I know I did. But I apologized. I meant every single word. I tried so hard to make it right. I tried so hard to prove to him that I wanted us.”
A sob escaped her lips.
“I really did.”
She pressed the heels of her hands against her eyes, but the tears kept coming.
“Or…” Her voice grew smaller, barely audible. “Or was he just… tired of me?”
The words hurt to say.
“So he looked for someone else.”
She shook her head helplessly.
“I just…” Another sob interrupted her.
“Is there something wrong with me?”
The question broke as soon as it left her mouth.
She cried harder, shoulders trembling uncontrollably, every insecurity she’d fought so hard to keep buried finally surfacing all at once.
Just as Corbin parted his lips to speak, Melanie cut him off.
“Corbin…”
He stopped.
She turned toward him, searching his face.
“Why didn’t you write me a letter at the recoupling?”
For the first time that night, Corbin looked genuinely caught off guard. His brows lifted slightly, as if that had been the last question he’d expected.
Melanie let out a weak, humorless laugh.
“I know.” She shook her head, wiping at her cheeks. “It’s stupid. And honestly… probably selfish to even ask.” Her fingers fidgeted with the sleeve of his hoodie. “But I keep thinking about it.”
She swallowed.
“Was I exhausting?” she asked quietly, almost afraid of the answer. “Did you just… get tired of trying with me? Or…” She hesitated. “Were you already invested in Kenzie by then?”
Silence.
Melanie looked down at her lap, immediately regretting asking.
“You know what…” She forced out another laugh. “Forget it. I’m sorry. That was stupid. I shoul—”
“Because I knew you’d pick Sincere.”
She froze. Slowly, her head lifted. “…What?”
Corbin met her gaze. There was no defensiveness in his expression. Only a quiet sadness.
“I didn’t write you a letter,” he said softly, “because I knew you’d pick Sincere.”
The words settled between them, the silence was louder than the sound of the ocean.
Melanie lowered her gaze, a hollow laugh escaping her lips.
“Yeah…” she murmured. “I always picked Sincere, didn’t I?”
The words tasted bitter. She let out another humorless laugh, this one aimed entirely at herself.
“I guess…” She swallowed around the lump in her throat. “I guess even that wasn’t enough.”
The sentence barely left her lips before everything she’d been holding together unraveled.
A sob tore through her chest.
Then another.
Her breathing became ragged as tears streamed uncontrollably down her face. She tried to catch her breath, tried to wipe them away, but they only came faster. Weeks of disappointment, confusion, hope, humiliation, and heartbreak crashed over her all at once.
She couldn’t stop crying.
She didn’t even realize Corbin had moved until she felt a pair of strong arms around her.
For the briefest moment, she stiffened.
Then she broke completely.
She buried her face against his chest as another sob escaped her, her fingers clutching the fabric of his undershirt as though she needed something to keep her from falling apart.
Corbin didn’t say a word. He simply held her. One hand moved slowly up and down her back in soothing circles while the other rested gently against the back of her head, his fingers absentmindedly brushing through her hair.
The tighter she cried, the tighter he held her.
After a moment’s hesitation, Melanie wrapped her arms around him too.
She melted into the embrace, accepting the comfort she hadn’t realized she’d been craving all night and perhaps for much longer than that.
For the first time since Movie Night had begun, she allowed herself to stop pretending she was okay.
Gradually, her sobs became quieter.
The tight grip she had on his shirt loosened, her breathing finally beginning to steady. She took one last shaky breath before slowly pulling away from him.
The loss of warmth was immediate. For the briefest second, she found herself missing it. She pushed the thought aside before it could settle.
“…Sorry,” she murmured, avoiding his eyes.
Corbin looked at her, his expression softer than she’d ever seen it.
Her gaze dropped to the front of his white undershirt, now stained with mascara and damp from her tears. Then to the black hoodie she wore.
A fresh wave of embarrassment washed over her.
“I…” She gave a sheepish smile. “Sorry. I ruined your shirt… and your hoodie.”
Corbin glanced down before shrugging as if it couldn’t have mattered less.
“Nah.” A corner of his mouth lifted. “You can do whatever you want.”
There was something so genuine in the way he said it that Melanie didn’t even register the fondness in his eyes.
She smiled. A real smile. “Thank you, Corbin.”
His own smile widened instantly. “There it is.”
She blinked. “What?”
“That smile.” He leaned back on his hands, looking out at her cheekily. “I’ve really missed it.”
Melanie let out a quiet laugh, the sound unfamiliar after everything that had happened.
“A frown doesn’t suit you.”
She rolled her eyes, unable to stop another smile from finding its way onto her face.
“You are so corny.”
“But you smiled again.”
She looked away, shaking her head as another soft laugh escaped her.
For a few more moments, neither of them said anything.
Eventually, Melanie pushed herself to her feet, brushing the sand and dust from her legs.
“Well…” she sighed, forcing a small smile. “We should probably get some sleep.”
Corbin nodded, standing a second later.
Melanie turned toward the villa, already talking more to fill the silence than anything else.
“I’ll, uh…” She let out a small laugh. “As you probably guessed, I’m sleeping in Soul Ties tonight.” She shook her head, the irony not lost on her. “That place has seriously become my doom.”
Another quiet laugh escaped her.
“I’ll just go inside, wash my face, brush my teeth and then—”
“Wait.”
She stopped mid-sentence as warm fingers had gently wrapped around her wrist.
She turned back, surprise flickering across her face.
Corbin had let go almost as soon as he’d stopped her, as though even that brief touch had been something he’d hesitated over.
He looked at her for a long moment, his expression unreadable.
She blinked, caught off guard.
Corbin met her eyes, his gaze unwavering.
“I just…” He paused, letting out a quiet breath. “I just want you to know something.”
She waited.
“The conversations I’ve had with you…” A small smile tugged at his lips. “They’ve been my favorite conversations in this villa.”
Melanie’s brows knitted together.
“You have this energy about you.” He shook his head, searching for the right words. “It’s… easy. Comfortable. I’ve never really vibed with someone the way I vibed with you.”
He let out a quiet laugh.
"You brought out a side of me that nobody else has. Not in here… and not really outside of here either.
She stared at him, speechless.
“So…” He looked down for a second before meeting her eyes again. “I just need you to hear me.”
“You are more than enough, Melanie.”
She felt her breath catch.
“And… if I’m being honest…” He let out a quiet breath. “When we were coupled up, I wished we had more time.”
Melanie’s brows knitted together.
“I knew the recoupling was coming.” He gave a small shrug. “I knew you’d pick Sincere.” There wasn’t any bitterness in his voice. Just acceptance.
“I knew everything would go back to the way it was.” He looked down for a brief moment before meeting her eyes again. "So… I guess I just wanted a little more time with you.”
He took a small step closer, his expression unwavering.
“Anyone would be lucky to have you. Lucky to be chosen by you. And if Sincere couldn’t see it then…” He held her gaze, his voice unwavering. “That’s on him.”
The words settled over her like a warm blanket. There wasn’t an ounce of doubt in his voice.
Melanie didn’t say anything. She couldn’t. She simply stared at him, his words echoing in her mind. She hadn’t expected that. Not from Corbin.
A hundred thoughts collided in her head all at once, leaving her unable to make sense of any of them. She was confused. Overwhelmed. Still heartbroken.
And yet…
Somewhere beneath all of that, a small warmth bloomed in her chest. She hadn’t known he felt that way. She hadn’t known she’d mattered that much to him. The realization left her feeling strangely… giddy.
She didn’t have the words to respond. So she did the only thing she could.
She stepped forward, wrapped her arms around his neck, and held him.
For a split second, Corbin seemed surprised. Then his arms found her waist, pulling her gently against him as he returned the embrace without hesitation.
She still had no idea what tomorrow would bring.
There were conversations to have, tears still left to cry, and a heart that needed time to mend.
But maybe…
Everything would be okay.