Page 39 of Our Chaotic Love Affair

“I was just as surprised as you,” I said with a shake of my head.

She pressed her lips together. “That’s so unlike him. He has access to like, a hundred talented people he could have called. People who know the Bancroft brand inside out, who’ve worked with that kind of corporate client before.” She stopped herself. “I don’t mean that badly. You know I don’t mean that badly. I love you and you are beyond talented.”

I waved my hand dismissively. “I know.”

“It’s just that you’re not exactly corporate.”

“Bancroft brand-minded,” I said. “No, I’m really not.”

“And Cash doesn’t take risks like that. He’s the most calculated person I’ve ever met.” She studied me. “Why did he ask you specifically?”

I took a sip of water and debated how to answer. “He thinks I have the right instincts for it. He’s been pushing me toward doing my own thing. He thinks the trip would be good for me. A chance to work on something that isn’t for someone else.”

Melody went very still. I watched her process this. I didn’t fill the silence. I let her work through what I said.

“Is that what you want?” she asked quietly. “To work on something that isn’t for someone else? For me?”

“I’ve been thinking about it,” I said. “For a while, actually. About going into business for myself. I have ideas. Real ones. Cash was just the first person who said out loud that I could do it.”

Melody was quiet.

“I think the trip was his way of nudging me toward a first step,” I continued. “I almost said yes.”

“But you didn’t?”

“But I didn’t. Because of the dress appointment. And the wedding. And because you just asked me to be your maid of honor and I’m not missing this, Melody. Not for anything.”

She nodded slowly. “Do you want to quit?” she asked.

“What? No.” The denial came fast and genuine. “No, of course not.”

But even as I said it, I felt the lie. The part I didn’t say. I couldn’t say. Not yet.

The honest answer was more complicated than no. The honest answer was that I didn’t have time to do everything. I wanted to be everything Melody needed me to be during the biggest year of her life. But I also wanted to build something of my own from the ground up.

Melody’s brand was bigger than it had ever been, and walking away from that when she needed me most wasn’t something I was capable of. Wasn’t something I wanted to be capable of. Her brand was my baby.

Nine months, I told myself. Let the dust settle. After the baby was born, she was going to be too busy for content. Then I’d figure it out.

“I’m not going anywhere,” I said, and I meant it. “Not now. There’s too much happening. I want to be here for all of it.”

Melody’s shoulders dropped with a relief she didn’t try to hide. “I need you,” she said simply. “I know that’s not fair. But I do. More than ever right now.”

“I know.” I reached across and squeezed her hand. “I’m not going anywhere.”

She squeezed back. “Okay.”

“Okay.”

We sat with that for a moment. I felt relief at finally being honest with her. I paid the bill before she could argue about it. Yeah, she was about to be a billionaire, but I didn’t want to treat her any differently.

We walked to the next boutique. It was upscale with velvet couches and chairs for those who came along for emotional support. We were offered champagne, which we politely declined.

I felt the energy in the room shift. Melody’s breathing changed when the consultant pulled the dress from the rack. I knew it. I just knew. Melody disappeared into the changing room. I prepared for the shot I knew was going to be in the album I was already planning. I wanted to document every moment of this journey for her.

When she stepped out in the dress, I lowered my camera without meaning to because for a moment I forgot I was supposed to be documenting anything. She was extraordinary.

The dress was simple yet elegant. It didn’t need all the bells and whistles. Ivory silk with rouching across the belly. A neckline that was somehow both modest and devastating. Nothing fussy, nothing overdone. Just Melody, and the dress, and the way she stood in front of the mirror with tears in her eyes.