Page 105 of Our Chaotic Love Affair

“You’re a terrible friend.”

“The worst.”

We spent the next hour talking through my business plan. Melody asked questions, offered suggestions, got more excited with every detail. By the time we’d finished the grapes and moved on to the chocolate, I felt lighter than I had in weeks.

This was real. I was really doing this. And I had her blessing. That was such a relief.

“There’s one more thing,” Melody said as I was getting ready to leave.

“What’s that?”

“You should tell Cash.”

My stomach flipped. “Why would I tell Cash?”

“Because he cares about this. He pushed you toward it in Rome, didn’t he?” She gave me a knowing look. “And because I think he’d want to know.”

“He made it pretty clear he doesn’t want to hear from me.”

“Did he? Or did you decide that for him?”

I didn’t have an answer for that.

I hugged Melody goodbye, gathered my things, and drove home. When I got to my apartment and kicked off my shoes, I wanted to call him.

I wanted to tell him that I’d finally told Melody about my plans and made it real. I wanted to hear his voice. Would he be proud of me? I wanted to ask if he missed me even a fraction as much as I missed him.

But I didn’t call. Because Melody was wrong. Cash had made his choice. And I had to respect that. We were very different people. We lived different lives. I didn’t get to call him. We didn’t have that kind of relationship.

Instead of making the call I wanted to, I opened my laptop and added another section to my business plan. The only person I wanted to share this with, aside from Melody, was the one person I couldn’t tell.

CHAPTER 35

CASH

Istood on the balcony of the beach house, watching workers assemble the white tent. In less than twenty-four hours, my brother would be married.

The morning air was crisp, carrying that distinctive Hamptons’ scent of salt and money. I’d arrived late last night, slipping into my assigned room without encountering anyone. A strategic choice on my part.

My fingers drummed against the railing. The coffee in my other hand had gone cold. I’d been standing here for thirty minutes, telling myself I was admiring the view when really I was just watching. Waiting.

For her.

“There you are.”

I turned to find Finn looking annoyingly well-rested. “Here I am,” I agreed.

“You look like shit.”

“Thank you for that assessment.”

He came to stand beside me, following my gaze to the beach. “They’re doing final rehearsals at eleven. Austin’s about to have a nervous breakdown because the florist delivered the wrong shade of whatever-the-hell flowers he ordered.”

“Peonies,” I said without thinking.

Finn raised an eyebrow. “Since when do you know flower varieties?”

“I don’t.” I took a sip of my cold coffee and grimaced. “Just heard him mention it.”