Page 222 of My Real Love Affair

It made me sick to read, but it had been necessary. Summer had to believe I was on her side. Had to think she’d successfully recruited me to her cause. And now I was about to pull the rug out from under her.

I checked my phone one last time. A text from Austin:You’ve got this, baby girl. We’re all here if you need us.

Cash had added to the thread:Legal team confirms the injunction was filed at 8 a.m. We’re ready.

Cleo:Go get her, babe. Show that snake who she’s messing with.

I smiled, tucked my phone in my purse, and walked toward the entrance.

Once this was over, Austin and I could go public for real. I would stand by my man and make all those Negative Nellys eat their words.

I was so ready for that. Ready to come out on the other side of this mess and see what was in store for us. I was ready to build something real with him.

Because I loved him.

I’d known for a while that I was falling. Gosh, who was I kidding? I’d fallen ages ago. Probably that first night at Sophie’s wedding when Austin Bancroft had literally swept me off my feet and kissed me in front of everyone. He had changed the entire trajectory of my life.

He had also changed something deep inside me. Something that recognized him, even then. Something that whisperedthis one matters.

And I had been right.

My whole life, I’d been searching for something intangible. Some sense of purpose, of belonging, of being exactly where I was supposed to be. I thought I found it with my career. The connection I felt with other women like me. That had given me purpose. Building a platform where I could show them they were beautiful, worthy, powerful exactly as they were? That had felt like my calling.

And it was. It still was.

But now that I had Austin, I realized what true joy felt like. The career gave me purpose. Austin gave me joy. Pure, uncomplicated, all-consuming joy that bubbled up from somewhere deep in my chest and made everything brighter.

He made me feel like I could stop searching. I had finally found what I didn’t even know I was looking for.

Home. He felt like home.

The thought made me grin as I pushed through the entrance and approached the reception desk. “I’m here to see Summer Auburn. She’s recording with The Spill Room.”

The receptionist checked her list. “I don’t have you down as a guest.”

“I know. But she’ll want to see me. Tell her Melody Stephens is here.”

The receptionist made a call, spoke quietly, then looked up at me with raised eyebrows. “Studio B. Down the hall, last door on the right.”

I thanked her and headed down the corridor, my heels clicking on the polished concrete floor. Through windows, I could see other studios—one with a podcast setup, another that looked like a YouTube recording space. This was clearly ahub for content creators, which made it the perfect place for Summer to stage her big reveal. It was somewhere I would have considered if I ever did start my own podcast.

I reached Studio B and knocked once before pushing the door open. Summer stood in front of a professional setup, with cameras, lights, a sleek table with microphones, and two hosts who looked like they’d stepped out of a fashion magazine. They were young, glossy, and clearly excited about the drama Summer was about to bring them.

Didn’t they know the pile of shit they were wading into?

They did know and that’s why they were giddy. They couldn’t really be held responsible for what Summer said. They were just giving her the rope to hang herself with.

Summer’s head whipped around at my entrance. I watched surprise flash across her face before she quickly covered it with a smile.

“Melody!” She came toward me, arms outstretched like we were old friends. “What are you doing here? Did you decide you wanted to make a statement on camera? That would be amazing. We are so going to nail him!”

“No,” I said, cutting her off. “I came to give you this.”

I pulled the envelope from my bag. It was the one Cash’s legal team had prepared early this morning. Inside was a transcript of the recording from our dinner, along with a formal cease and desist letter.

Summer took it, confused. “What is this?”

“Open it.”