Page 128 of Our Chaotic Love Affair

I helped her step into it, carefully zipping up the back while she held her breath. The seamstress had made the alterations in record time. The ivory silk gown fit her like a glove.

“Perfect,” the photographer said, snapping pictures. “Don’t move.”

But Melody turned to face me anyway. Her eyes were bright with tears.

“You look incredible,” I whispered.

“So do you.” She grabbed my hands. “Thank you. For everything. For being here. For being my person.”

“Always.”

“I mean it, Cleo. I couldn’t have done any of this without you. The business, the wedding, learning to love myself. You’ve been there for all of it.”

“Melody, I love you. I feel so blessed that I get to be on this journey with you.”

She squeezed my hands. “You gave me the courage to be myself. To go after what I wanted. I hope I can convince you to do the same.” She pulled me into a careful hug, mindful of our dresses. “You and Cash are going to figure it out. I know you are.”

“How do you know?”

“Because you’re both too stubborn to give up on something you want this badly.” She pulled back, grinning. “Plus, I need you to be my sister-in-law. The family gatherings will be so much better with you there permanently.”

I laughed through my tears. “That’s a terrible reason to make a relationship work.”

“Is it though?” She turned so I could adjust her veil. “Just think. We may not be coworkers next year, but we could be sisters.”

The words hit me square in the chest.

Sisters.

I would love to be a part of this big, chaotic, overwhelming Bancroft family. They were rich, but they weren’t anything like what I expected rich people to be. They were kind. Welcoming. And so accepting.

“One step at a time,” I managed.

“Says the woman who slept with my brother-in-law last night.”

“Melody!”

She laughed. “Too soon?”

“Way too soon.”

A knock at the door. Melody’s father appeared, looking distinguished in his tuxedo. His eyes immediately filled with tears when he saw his daughter.

“Oh, sweetheart,” he said. “You’re so beautiful.”

“Dad, don’t cry. You’ll make me cry and my makeup will be ruined.”

“Too late.” He was already crying. So was Melody. So was I.

The photographer was having a field day.

The makeup artist came back in to fix us back up.

“It’s time,” I said. “Are you ready?”

She took a deep breath. “So ready.”

We lined up. Bridesmaids in order, me last as maid of honor. The wedding coordinator gave us our cues. Music started floating up from the beach.