Betrayed By Husband, Stolen By Brother In Law-Chapter 269: A thief

Melanie really did feel like a thief. What else was she supposed to feel?

Even though she had changed out of her sportswear and tried to compose herself, she hadn’t expected that kind of activity to happen in the club of all places. And so, once she had hurriedly dressed after the shower, she’d slipped out of the private locker room, muttering some vague excuse about wanting to explore, instead of standing there, looking at Adam’s smug and satisfied expression.

And now she was wandering aimlessly, already dreading the moment she’d have to walk into the cafeteria-where Laela was probably waiting with crossed arms and that maddeningly knowing look she always gave. One glance at Melanie’s face and she’d figure it all out. What kind of ’game’ she had been playing.

Lost in her thoughts, Melanie didn’t notice the older woman walking from the opposite direction until it was too late. She nearly collided into her, causing the woman to stumble back.

"Ah—!"

Melanie’s reflexes kicked in just in time. She reached out and caught the woman by the arms before she could fall.

"I’m so sorry," she said quickly, steadying the woman with both hands. "Are you alright?"

But instead of walking away, she paused and gave Melanie a closer look—her eyes scanning her face with quiet curiosity.

"I’m alright," she said gently, "but are you okay?"

Melanie blinked, a little caught off guard by the unexpected question. She gave a small, reflexive nod. "Yes—yes, I’m fine. I was just... distracted."

The older woman gave a quick nod, brushing herself off lightly. The woman smiled knowingly and gave her a soft look. "I thought so. You looked like someone whose thoughts were running far ahead of her feet."

Melanie gave a faint laugh, not quite trusting herself to say more. What could she really say... that she was thinking of the hot se* they’d just had? Not that sex was ever not hot when it was with Adam but today.... She shook her head. Her thoughts were spiralling out of control!

She tried to give her attention to the woman who was still talking, "Would you happen to know which way the cafeteria is? My daughter brought me here to the club this morning and insisted on giving me a full tour. She has this habit of getting excited and losing track of time-and people-when she talks too much."

She chuckled to herself before continuing, "So while I was admiring some rather beautiful bushes near the tennis court, she wandered off mid-sentence. I turned around, and poof-she was gone. This place is lovely, but it’s like a maze if you don’t know your way around, like I’ve just discovered."

Melanie offered a small smile. "Actually, I’m here for the first time too. I was just heading to the cafeteria myself, hoping I don’t get lost on the way."

At that, the woman’s face lit up. "Well, then we can be two lost souls together," she said brightly. Without hesitation, she looped her hand through Melanie’s elbow that had Melanie surprised all over again as she continued, "Come on, dear. Lead the way—we’ll figure it out as we go."

As they began walking, the woman said, "I’m Marianne, by the way. And you are?"

"Melanie," she replied calmly".

"Well, Melanie Deshmukh, thank you for rescuing me-not just from a fall but from wandering around alone like a confused tourist. So, do you play sports? I hope you don’t mind me asking but I think I did see you in the tennis skirt earlier when I was sitting in the cafe."

Melanie gave a small, polite laugh. "Oh—I actually came here to learn. I’m not much of a sportsperson, really. Definitely not the tennis type."

Marianne glanced at her with mild surprise. "Why not?"

Melanie shrugged, trying to keep her tone casual. "I don’t know. Just never quite got into it, I guess. I was the kind of kid who forged notes to skip P.E."

That made Marianne chuckle. "Well, at least you’re honest about it. Most people pretend they used to be on a state-level team once upon a time."

Melanie smiled, relieved that the conversation wasn’t pressing too deep—but then Marianne, still linked to her arm, turned her head and asked curiously, "So what do you do, if not sports?"

The question was innocent enough, but it caught Melanie slightly off guard. She hadn’t expected this level of attention or interest. Most strangers kept to small talk if at that. She was not curious to that kind of look

"I work at a store," Melanie said, unwilling to mention that she was the owner, after a short pause. "It’s called LuxeArt. We sell art, curated crafts, things like that."

Marianne raised her brows in approval as she seemed to recognise the name. "That sounds quite elegant. LuxeArt—you mean the one with the glass bird installations and the handmade lamps?"

Melanie blinked, "Yes, actually. That’s the one."

"I’ve been there once," Marianne said. "Lovely place. Very tasteful. You must have a good eye."

Melanie wasn’t sure how to respond to that.. But something about Marianne’s tone made her feel that this woman seemed to already know that she owned the place. But then she shrugged it off. It was because she had been thrown off balance by the woman chattiness. So, she just nodded and ignored the compliment, " It’s a nice place to work."

"Did you always want to be working with art and craft? Are you an artist? Do you paint?"

"Did you always want to be working with art and craft? Are you an artist? Do you paint?"

The question landed heavier than Marianne probably intended.

Melanie felt her steps falter. She hadn’t expected it—wasn’t prepared for the direct inquisition. She was used to handling chatty customers, inquisitive vendors, even casual acquaintances. But there was something about the gentle persistence in Marianne’s tone, that felt too... intrusive.

Melanie hesitated, trying to school her features into something neutral, when she finally spotted the cafe.

"Oh," she said abruptly, feigning a note of surprise, "that’s the café right there!"

Then, before Marianne could respond or probe further, Melanie gently pulled her arm free. "Actually-I just remembered, I’m supposed to be somewhere. I completely lost track of time."

Marianne blinked, her arm still half-extended as if she hadn’t expected the sudden change in pace. "Oh? Of course, dear."

"Sorry," Melanie mumbled, already stepping back. "It was really nice meeting you. I’m glad I could help."

And with that, she turned and walked quickly- almost too quickly away from there and the woman’s uncomfortable presence.

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