Page 226 of My Real Love Affair

“My nieces and nephews—I want to spend more time with them. Get to know them better. Be the fun uncle who actually shows up instead of the one who just sends expensive presents and disappears.”

Her smile was soft and knowing. “That sounds nice.”

“And I was thinking.” I paused, gathering my thoughts. “Maybe it’s not as scary as I thought. The dad thing. If I could be half as good at it as my brothers seem to be, that would be something.”

Her eyes filled with tears. Happy ones, I hoped. I knew she understood what I was really saying. That the door I’d kept firmly closed was opening. That I could see a future that included the things she wanted, the things she needed to be happy and fulfilled.

“I’m not saying I’m ready tomorrow,” I clarified quickly. “But maybe someday. If it’s with you.”

She got up from her chair and came to sit in my lap, wrapping her arms around my neck. “Someday sounds perfect.”

After dinner, we took a bottle of wine and headed down to the beach. The sun was setting, creating the most beautiful, romantic backdrop. We walked along the water’s edge until we found a spot to sit.

“Tell me about your dreams,” I said, pulling her against my side. “The real ones. Not just the career stuff but the life stuff.”

She was quiet for a moment, staring out at the ocean. “I want a home. Not just a house, but a real home. Somewhere that feels safe and warm and full of love. I want Sunday morning pancakes and board game nights. I want a partner who I canlaugh with even when things are hard. I want kids who feel loved unconditionally.”

“That sounds perfect.”

“What about you? What do you want?”

I’d never really thought about it before in concrete terms. My dreams had always been vague—freedom, adventure, escape. But now, sitting here with Melody, I could see it clearly.

“I want what you want,” I said. “The home, the family, all of it. But more than that, I want to stop running. I’ve spent so many years chasing the next thrill and trying to prove something to myself or to my father. And I’m tired of it.”

“What do you want instead?”

“I want to build something that lasts. Something real.” I looked at her. “With you.”

We stayed on the beach until it got dark, then headed back to the house. Melody suggested skinny dipping in the pool, and who was I to argue? We stripped off our clothes and dove into the heated water, the night air cool on our skin.

She was beautiful in the moonlight, all curves and confidence and completely uninhibited. We made love in the shallow end, the water lapping around us, and afterward, we just floated together, looking up at the stars.

“I could get used to this,” she said.

“The Hamptons?”

“This. Us. Having time to just be together without worrying about schemes or threats or what people think.”

“Me too.”

Later, wrapped in plush robes, we curled up on the couch in the living room and put on a movie neither of us really watched. We were too busy talking, planning, dreaming out loud about what our life could look like.

“I need to talk to my father,” I said at one point. “Really talk to him. Clear the air.”

“About what?”

“Everything. The years I spent away. The resentment I’ve been carrying. The fact that I’m not angry anymore.” I paused. “I regret the lost time, but I needed the distance to figure out who I was separate from being a Bancroft. And now I’m ready to come back, but on my terms.”

“That’s brave,” Melody said.

“It’s necessary. I can’t move forward with you, with us, and try to build a life if I’m still carrying all that baggage with my family.”

“When will you talk to him?”

“Soon. Maybe when we get back from this weekend. I want to tell him about you—really tell him, not just the surface stuff he already knows. I want him to understand that you’re not going anywhere, and that I’m serious about building a future. I need him to know you have made me a better man.”

She kissed my cheek. “I’m proud of you.”