Chapter 36
CLEO
The beach was perfect. Of course it was. Melody wouldn’t settle for anything less. I wouldn’t let her.
White chairs arranged in neat rows on the sand. An archway draped in gauzy fabric and beautiful peonies. The ocean as the backdrop, all blue and sparkly in the late afternoon sun. It really could not be any more perfect.
And this was just the rehearsal.
I stood in my designated spot as maid of honor. I was wearing one of the flowing, sparkly black skirts I bought in Rome. It brushed against my legs as I stood there waiting. I tried to focus on the wedding coordinator’s instructions instead of the man standing directly across from me.
I knew what I was getting into when I went to Rome.
I knew there was a risk something might happen.
And then it happened and I was okay with it.
I made all those decisions knowing full well this moment was coming.
I knew we would have to be standing up in the wedding.
Best man and maid of honor had responsibilities that required us to spend time together.
I had to be okay with it. In a few days, I wouldn’t have to see him again.
Not until the baby shower, which I doubted he’d go to.
Assuming we did one of the showers with husbands involved.
It was kind of a Bancroft thing. They liked their menfolk.
I might have to see him after the birth of the baby and then at the first birthday party.
So, three times at most over the next two years.
I could handle it.
He looked good. Unfairly good. Linen shirt rolled up at the sleeves, khakis, hair slightly messy from the ocean breeze. The golden hour light made him look softer around the edges.
“Cleo?” The coordinator was looking at me expectantly.
“Sorry, what?”
“When the music changes, you’ll walk down the aisle to meet Cash at the front.”
Right. The rehearsal. Focus.
I walked back to the other end of the aisle to start over.
I walked, keeping it slow and steady. Cash was waiting at the end, hands clasped in front of him, watching me intently.
It was slightly unnerving.
“Everyone clear on timing?” the coordinator asked brightly.
A chorus of affirmatives. Melody was beaming, practically vibrating with excitement as Austin took his position. We ran through the ceremony beats. Processional, readings, vows, pronouncement, recessional.
I kept my eyes forward. On Melody’s joy. On Austin’s nervous smile. On anything except the man standing six inches behind Austin.
“Perfect!” The coordinator clapped her hands. “That’s a wrap for rehearsal. Dinner is set up on the patio whenever you’re ready.”
Everyone started moving back toward the house.
I hung back, taking a moment to look at the ceremony setup in the fading light.
Tomorrow this would be filled with people.
Tomorrow Melody would walk down this aisle in her dress and Austin would probably cry.
I’d give my speech and everything would be beautiful.
Tomorrow I’d have to pretend I was fine. That it was totally fine to hang out with the guy that broke my heart.
“You okay?”
I turned. Cash was still there, hands in his pockets, looking at me with something that might have been concern.
“Fine,” I said. “Just taking it in. It’s beautiful.”
“It is.”
We stood there in awkward silence.
“We should head back,” I said finally.
“Yeah.”
We walked up to the house together. Not talking. Not touching. Just two people who had a moment and were now strangers navigating a very awkward situation.
The patio had been transformed into something out of a magazine spread. Long tables draped in white linen, candles everywhere, platters of food that smelled incredible. The family was already gathering.
I found my seat next to Melody. Cash was at the other end of the table, between Austin and Finn. Safe distance. Manageable. I could do this.
Dinner started. Conversation flowed. I laughed at Melody’s stories, made small talk with the other bridesmaids, tried to enjoy the food even though my stomach was in knots. Then I noticed them.
Cash and Armand. Heads close together at the far end of the table, speaking in tones too low to hear. Armand’s expression was tight. Cash’s was unreadable. But I did know Cash well enough to know something was off. He always looked like he had a stick up his ass, but now it was severe.
I could tell something was wrong and my first thought was I wanted to go to him. I wanted to shove his father away from him.
Cash stood abruptly and walked away. Just left. Didn’t excuse himself, didn’t look at anyone, just got up and disappeared into the house.
I told myself it wasn’t my business. Told myself whatever was happening between Cash and his father was family drama I had no right to insert myself into. Told myself to stay in my seat and finish my dinner and be the good maid of honor. Not my monkeys, not my circus.
I sipped my wine and pretended to listen to something one of the Bancroft wives was saying. I really tried. I lasted about three minutes.
“I’ll be right back,” I told Melody.
She gave me a knowing look but didn’t say anything. I went inside. The house was quiet. Everyone was outside enjoying the amazing dinner. I checked the kitchen—empty. The living room—empty. Started to head upstairs when I heard the front door click closed.
Outside. He’d gone outside.
I found him sitting on the front steps, elbows on his knees, staring at the driveway like he was looking for the quickest escape. With all the cars, I understood his conundrum.
I almost turned around and went back to the party. I needed to leave him alone with whatever he was working through. But I couldn’t.
I sat down beside him. He didn’t look surprised. Didn’t look at me at all, actually. Just kept staring straight ahead.
“You okay?” I asked.
“Fine.”
“Liar.”
That got a small smile. “Maybe.”
We sat in silence for a moment. The party noise from the backyard was muted here, just a pleasant hum of voices and laughter.
“Are you in trouble?” I asked. “With your father. Because of Rossi.”
He shrugged. “I was.”
“Was?”
“I just told him I’m extending my sabbatical.” He finally looked at me. “He’s pretty livid.”
“You’re on sabbatical?”
He nodded.
My eyebrows shot up. “A sabbatical? Cash, that’s huge.”
“I know.”
“When did you decide that?”
“When we got back. I told him I was taking a break. Finn helped me see that I was spiraling.” He picked at a piece of paint peeling from the step.
“The last month showed me I have a lot of gaps in my life. Things I can’t fill with work.
My father operated that way. Some of my brothers do too.
But I can’t anymore. I feel drained. Empty.
Like I have nothing else to give. The well is dry.
The only way I can recharge is to get my head straight. ”
I felt so much joy for him. He must be relieved and terrified. And free. He finally freed himself. “Good for you.”
“You helped too,” he said quietly.
I looked at him. “What?”
“In Rome. You helped me see it.” He met my eyes. “You asked me what I wanted and I couldn’t answer. That’s been eating at me for a month.”
“Have you figured it out yet? What you want?”
“Some of it.” His voice was soft. “Still working on the rest.”
I looked at him and saw the exhaustion, the uncertainty, the same ache I’d been carrying. He was just as lost as I was. He looked a hell of a lot better in his lostness, but he was an attractive man. Couldn’t hide it if he tried.
“I wish it had ended differently,” I said. “Rome.”
“Me too.”
“I wish the timing had been better for us.”
He reached over and took my hand. Just took it and lifted it to his lips. Pressed a kiss to my knuckles that made my breath catch.
“I wish that too,” he said.
I leaned into him. Couldn’t help it. He wrapped an arm around me, pulled me close, and rested his cheek on top of my head. We sat there on the front steps while the party continued without us. It felt like goodbye and hello all at once.
“We should go back,” I said eventually.
“Yeah.”
But neither of us moved.
“Hey,” I said. “Want a code word?”
He pulled back to look at me. “What?”
“A code word. For this weekend. If things get tense with your father or if you need an out from an awkward conversation, you say the code word and I’ll rescue you.”
His lips quirked. “You’ll rescue me.”
“I’m very good at rescues. Ask Melody.”
“What’s the code word?”
I thought about it. “Pistachio.”
“Pistachio.”
“It’s random enough that you won’t say it by accident but normal enough that you can work it into conversation.”
He chuckled. “You’ve put thought into this.”
“I contain multitudes of code words.”
“You have code words with other people?”
“Just Melody.”
“Like what?”
“I can’t tell you. Then it wouldn’t be a secret code word.”
“Why would Melody need code words?”
“Mostly before Austin. If she was on a date, she’d text me an emoji and I would get her out of the date. If we were at an influencer event and she got the ick from a fan, code word.”
He shook his head. “Cleo the Rescuer.”
“I think that’s better than Cyclone Cleo or Chaotic Cleo. Whatever you called me.”
He grimaced. “Sorry about that.”
“I don’t mind. It’s true. I love to cause chaos. I won’t stop.”
“Good. Don’t stop. It’s who you are.”
We stood up together. Brushed off our clothes. Headed back inside to the party. But before we stepped back onto the patio, he caught my hand again. Squeezed once.
“Thank you,” he said.
“For what?”
“For coming after me. For sitting with me.” He stopped. “Just thank you.”
My throat felt tight. “Anytime, Lurch.”
Something flickered in his eyes when I called him that. Relief, maybe. Or recognition that we were finding our way back to something, even if neither of us knew what it was yet.
We rejoined the party separately. Me first, then him a few minutes later. I went back into hostess mode. It wasn’t my party, but I was taking on hosting duties to help Melody out. I circled the room and made sure everyone had drinks and didn’t need anything.
But I couldn’t help noticing the way Armand watched his son when Cash sat back down. The calculating expression. The slight narrowing of his eyes. Then Armand’s gaze shifted to me.
I felt him assessing me, trying to figure out what role I played in his son’s sudden rebellion. I lifted my chin and held his gaze until he looked away first. Whatever he thought of me didn’t matter. Cash was making his own choices now.
“Cleo!” Melody waved me over to where she was standing with a group of women. “Come meet everyone!”
I joined them on the patio. The other Bancroft wives I recognized from the family gatherings. They were laughing, drinks in hand, forming a circle that looked warm and welcoming.
“Ladies, this is Cleo,” Melody announced. “My best friend, my maid of honor, and the woman who keeps my life from falling apart on a daily basis.”
“Former job description,” I corrected. “She’s going to have to learn to function without me soon.”
“Never,” Melody said fiercely.
Sylvie smiled at me. “Welcome to the family madness. Fair warning. Once you’re in, you’re in for life.”
“Even if you’re not officially family,” Mina added, glancing at my ring-less hand. “These Bancrofts don’t let go of people they love.”
“We’re very possessive,” another wife agreed. “In the best way.”
They pulled me into their conversation, talking about the wedding, about babies, about the chaos of loving Bancroft men. Melody was glowing, listening to advice about pregnancy and motherhood, beaming at the idea of having this many sisters.
I watched Melody soak in the love, the support, and the promise of never being alone again. This was Bancroft love. Overwhelming, all-encompassing, forever. And I’d missed my shot at it.
I excused myself to get another drink, suddenly needing air.
I’d told myself I was fine with how things ended.
That it was for the best. That Cash and I needed to figure out our own lives before we could figure out an us.
Not that there was an us. It was sex. Bancroft men were known for their prowess.
I got caught in the net. Not the first and definitely not the last.
But standing here, watching Melody be welcomed into this huge, chaotic, loving family, I felt the loss of it like a physical ache.
I wished I could have had this. I wanted to be a part of this big, beautiful family. If the timing had been different. If I’d been braver. If he’d been ready.
If, if, if.
I grabbed my Diet Coke from the fridge and headed back outside. Put on my smile. Rejoined the party.
Tomorrow was Melody’s day. Tomorrow I’d be the best maid of honor I could possibly be.
And I’d stand next to Cash Bancroft and pretend my heart wasn’t breaking all over again.