Chapter 34
CLEO
Icould have spent the last three weeks wallowing. Feeling sad and shitty about Cash’s heel turn. But thankfully, I hadn’t had the time. It had been all wedding all the time.
I had a wedding to coordinate. A bride to support. A maid of honor speech to write. Dress fittings and flower arrangements and seating charts and a million tiny decisions that Melody needed help making because she was pregnant and overwhelmed and completely, radiantly happy.
And if staying busy meant I didn’t have to sit with the hollow ache in my chest that appeared every time I thought about Cash—which was constantly—then I’d stay busy forever.
I knocked on Melody and Austin’s door with a tote bag full of snacks and a smile.
I was pretty confident my fake smile was fooling everyone.
I was getting good at it. Thankfully, Melody was so busy with wedding and baby stuff, she wasn’t really paying attention.
Normally, I might feel jilted about the lack of my best friend’s attention, but now I was grateful she was distracted.
Austin answered. “The party has arrived.”
“Someone has to keep things interesting around here.” I hugged him and walked inside. “Where’s my girl?”
“Kitchen. Fair warning. She’s in a mood about cheese.”
“Pregnancy mood or regular mood?”
“Does it matter?”
“Fair point.”
I found Melody standing in front of their massive refrigerator, glaring at a wheel of brie. Did it turn?
“I hate pregnancy,” she announced.
“You’re glowing and beautiful and creating life.”
“I’m bloated and can’t eat brie and I have to pee every seventeen minutes.” She closed the fridge with more force than necessary. “Do you know how long until this baby is born?”
“Seven and a half months?”
“Seven and a half months without brie, Cleo. That’s practically a year.”
I tried not to laugh. Failed. “That is a crime against humanity.”
“Thank you!” She threw her hands up. “Finally someone understands.”
Austin poked his head in. “I’m heading out. You two have fun with your cheese drama.”
“Abandoning your pregnant fiancée in her time of need?” Melody called after him.
“You have Cleo. Cleo is better at cheese feelings than I am.” He grabbed his keys. “Love you both. Don’t burn the house down.”
The door closed behind him.
Melody looked at me. “Want to judge me while I eat an entire bowl of grapes?”
“Always.”
We moved to the living room with our snacks. Grapes for Melody and the contraband brie for me because I wasn’t pregnant. Crackers, hummus, and little chocolate wafer things. I settled into the corner of their huge sectional while Melody arranged herself with several pillows.
“Comfortable?” I asked.
“I will be once I find the perfect pillow configuration.” She adjusted one behind her back. “Okay. Wedding talk. Hit me.”
I pulled out my phone where I’d been keeping a running checklist. “Final dress fitting is tomorrow at ten. Flowers are ordered and will be there. I confirmed with the photographer and the officiant. Everything is set.”
“You’re amazing.”
“I know.” I scrolled. “Your something old, something new, something borrowed, something blue are all sorted.”
“What’s my something blue again?”
“The garter I bought you.”
She grinned. “Right. I love it.”
“I know you do.” I set my phone down. “Melody, everything is perfect. You’re going to have the wedding of your dreams.”
“We’re going to have the wedding of my dreams.” She reached over and squeezed my hand. “I couldn’t have done any of this without you.”
“Please. You absolutely could have.”
“But I didn’t want to.” Her eyes got misty. “God, pregnancy hormones are the worst. I’m going to cry at everything this weekend, aren’t I?”
“Probably.”
“Great. That’ll look amazing in the photos.”
We went through the rest of the checklist. Everything was locked in. Everything was ready. I should have felt excited. Proud. This was what I’d been working toward for three weeks. Instead, I just felt tired.
“How are you feeling about Saturday?” Melody asked quietly.
I knew what she meant. “I’ll be fine.”
“Cleo, you can talk to me.”
“I’m good. I’ll smile. I’ll do my speech. I’ll dance with the groomsmen. It’ll be fine.”
“You’re going to see Cash.”
There it was. The name I’d been avoiding for three weeks. The name that still made my chest tight and my eyes burn and my heart feel like the tape I used to put it back together was going to tear off and leave it shattered all over again.
“I know,” I said.
“And?”
“And we’ll be on our best behavior. Professional. Cordial.” I stopped. “Like two people who can be in the same room without it being weird.”
Melody gave me a look. “It’s going to be weird.”
“Probably.”
“Are you okay with that?”
I picked at the edge of a throw pillow. “I have to be, don’t I? This is your wedding. Your day. The last thing I want is for my drama with Cash to take away from that.”
“It wouldn’t take anything away.”
“Mel, I’m fine.” I forced a smile. “Really. Maybe seeing him will give me the closure I need. Maybe it’ll be good.”
She didn’t look convinced. “Can I say something without you getting mad at me?”
“Have I ever gotten mad at you?”
“There’s a first time for everything.” She shifted her pillows again. “I don’t think it’s over. With you and Cash.”
My stomach dropped.
“Hear me out.” She held up a hand. “Cash is the way he is for a reason. He’s spent his whole life living up to impossible expectations. Being the perfect son, the perfect Bancroft, the guy who fixes everything. He’s never let his walls down. Not really.”
“He let them down with me,” I said quietly. “In Rome. And then he put them right back up.”
“Because he got scared.”
“Or because it didn’t mean anything to him.”
“Do you really believe that?”
I wanted to. God, I wanted to believe that Rome had been a fun weekend fling that meant nothing and Cash had walked away because he genuinely didn’t care. It would make this so much easier.
But I couldn’t.
“No,” I admitted. “I don’t believe that.”
“Then maybe there’s still hope.”
I looked at her. “Melody, I love you. So much. But please don’t give me false hope.
It’s been three weeks and he hasn’t called.
Hasn’t texted. Nothing. He’s made it very clear that whatever we had in Rome is over.
I’ve accepted it and I’m moving on. It was never going to be a thing.
I’m not you. I don’t get the happy ending that you got.
And that’s okay. He’s a busy man. I didn’t ask him to call me or vice versa. I have no expectations.”
“Has it occurred to you he might be figuring his shit out?”
I shrugged, doing my best to sound nonchalant. “Either way, I can’t sit around waiting for him to decide I’m worth the risk. I have to move on.”
“Are you? Moving on?”
I thought about the business plan sitting on my laptop. The one I’d been refining for three weeks, adding to it every night when I couldn’t sleep because my brain insisted on replaying every moment with Cash. The one that was starting to feel real, tangible, possible.
“Actually,” I said slowly. “I wanted to talk to you about something.”
Melody sat up straighter. “Oh?”
“I’ve been thinking a lot lately about what I want. For my life. My career. My future.” I took a breath. “And I think it’s time for me to start my own thing.”
Her eyes went wide. “Really?”
“Really.” Now that I’d started talking, I couldn’t stop.
“I want to help women find their purpose. Help them figure out what they’re passionate about and how to build businesses around that.
Life coaching, maybe. Or career coaching.
I’m still working out the details, but I’m ready to go out on my own. ”
“Cleo, that’s amazing.”
“I’m not leaving right away,” I rushed to add. “I know you’re pregnant and getting married and you need me right now. I’m not going to bail on you. But next year, once the baby’s here and things settle down, I’m going to transition out of being your assistant and start building my own brand.”
Silence. I watched Melody’s face, trying to read her expression. Was she hurt? Angry? Relieved? She burst into tears and I felt like the worst person in the world. The worst friend. The worst maid of honor.
“Melody, I’m sorry. I don’t want to stress you out.”
“I’m so proud of you.” She was crying and laughing at the same time. “God, I’m so proud of you I could explode.”
Relief flooded through me. “Yeah?”
“Yeah.” She wiped her eyes. “You’re going to be incredible at this. Those women are going to be so lucky to have you.”
“You’re not upset?”
“Upset? Cleo, I’ve been waiting for you to do this for years.” She grabbed my hand. “You’re too talented to be anyone’s assistant. Even mine. Especially mine.”
“But we won’t be working together anymore.”
“So? We’ll still be best friends. We’ll still see each other constantly. The only difference is you’ll be building your own empire instead of helping me build mine.” She squeezed my hand. “This is good. This is right. I can feel it.”
“I’m scared,” I admitted.
“Good. That means it matters.”
We sat there for a moment, holding hands, both of us crying for completely different reasons.
“When do you start?” Melody asked.
“I’m thinking January. After the holidays. After the baby comes and you’re settled.” I wiped my eyes. “I want to make sure you have everything you need first.”
“I’ll have Austin. And a baby. And a whole army of Bancroft in-laws who won’t leave me alone.” She smiled. “I’ll be fine. Better than fine.”
“Promise?”
“Promise.” She pulled me into a hug. “I’m so excited for you.”
We cried some more. Happy tears this time. The kind that came when something big was shifting, when you could feel your life changing shape and you didn’t know exactly what it would look like but you knew it would be good.
When we finally pulled apart, Melody was grinning. “We should celebrate. With cheese. Oh wait, I can’t have cheese.”
“I’ll have extra on your behalf.”
“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.