Page 199 of My Real Love Affair

“You know what else would help?” I stepped forward, my pulse pounding in my ears. “If people like us didn’t hoard all the wealth. If you paid fair wages instead of hoarding profits. If you didn’t treat people like disposable resources. Maybe then they wouldn’t need your charity.”

“Austin,” Cash warned.

But I was done. Done with the condescension. Done with the out-of-touch bullshit. Done with my father’s inability to see value in anything that didn’t directly serve his bottom line.

“Melody matters,” I said. “What she does matters. And she’s not going anywhere.”

“She’s a liability,” Dad said coldly. “Summer will use her against you. Against us. The moment this story breaks, Melody becomes part of the narrative. Do you really want to drag her through that?”

“That’s not your decision to make.”

“It is when it affects the family reputation.”

“The family reputation?” I laughed, bitter and sharp. “That’s what this is about? Not my happiness, not what I actually want, just the precious Bancroft reputation? Newsflash, I’m the butt of every joke about the precious Bancroft family name. It won’t be anything new.”

“Don’t be naive,” Dad said. “Reputation is everything in our world. It’s what opens doors.”

“I don’t care about doors!” The words exploded out of me. “I don’t care about business deals or social standing or any of it.I care about Melody. I care about having something real for the first time in my life. And I’m not giving that up because you’re worried about optics.”

The study went silent. Cash looked between us, clearly trying to figure out how to de-escalate.

“You’re not thinking clearly,” Dad finally said.

“I’m thinking more clearly than I have in years.”

Cash stepped forward, his hand raised. “Okay. Let’s all take a breath here.”

“Stay out of this,” I snapped.

“No.” Cash’s voice was firm but not angry. “Because you’re both about to say things you can’t take back.” He looked at our father. “Dad, I understand your concerns. The timing is terrible, and Summer is going to try to use Melody against us. But if you can drop her—just temporarily—we mitigate the risk. Summer has less ammunition if you’re not actively involved with Melody when this breaks.”

My pulse raced, thundering in my ears. “No.”

“Austin—”

“I said no.” I looked at Cash, then at my father. “I’m not using Melody like that. I’m not throwing her away to protect myself.”

“It’s not throwing her away,” Cash said carefully. “It’s protecting her. If you’re not together when Summer goes public, Melody doesn’t become part of the story. She stays out of the crossfire completely.”

The logic made sense. I could see what he was trying to do—frame it as protecting Melody rather than protecting the family name. But it didn’t feel like an option. Not after everything. Not after realizing I loved her.

“You don’t get it,” I said, my voice rough. “This isn’t some calculated PR move anymore. This is my life. She’s my life.”

Dad’s expression hardened. “Then you’re a fool. You’re willing to drag that girl through hell because you’re too selfish to let her go?”

“I’m not dragging her anywhere. I’m standing by her. There’s a difference.”

“There isn’t.” Dad moved back behind his desk. “Not in the real world. Summer will destroy her credibility, paint her as complicit in some scheme, make her the villain right alongside us. Is that what you want for her?”

The thought of Melody being dragged through the mud, facing another wave of online hatred and scrutiny because of me, made me sick. But the thought of walking away from her, of proving Summer’s narrative right by treating Melody like she was disposable, felt worse.

“I need to talk to her,” I said. “Let her decide.”

“No.” Dad’s voice was final. “You’ll end it. Today. Cleanly. That’s how we handle this.”

“You don’t get to tell me what to do with my personal life.”

“I do when your personal life threatens everything this family has built.”