Page 75 of My Real Love Affair

Cleo’s expression shifted from rage to concern. “Oh, babe.”

“So technically, he did exactly what I suggested. Why am I mad about it?” I sank onto my couch, staring at the stupid photo. “Why does it feel like he cheated when we’re not even really together?”

“Because you have feelings for him.” Cleo sat beside me, her voice gentler now. “Real feelings. And he just proved he doesn’t deserve them.”

She was right. Of course she was right.

I had been stupid to catch feelings for Austin Bancroft. It was ridiculous to believe what we had might become something real. As if I could be different from all the other women who had passed through his life.

I was just another woman in a long line of women. Another face, another body, another temporary distraction.

“You got what you needed from him,” Cleo said. “You got your apology. Your reputation is being restored. The narrative is shifting in your favor.” She squeezed my hand. “You don’t need Austin Bancroft anymore. Cut him loose.”

Cleo was right. I had gotten what I needed. I didn’t need him anymore. And clearly, he didn’t need me either. Not when there were beautiful blondes in nightclubs ready to press themselves against him and make him forget all about the one woman who turned him down.

I picked up my phone and opened my text thread with Austin. I attached the photo Cleo had shown me. My fingers hovered over the keyboard.

This should be easy. We’d always known this was temporary. Always had an expiration date. I was just moving it up a little.

Me:This isn’t going to work anymore. I wish you all the best, Austin. Thanks for everything.

I read it. Reread it. Made sure it sounded professional and final and not like my heart was cracking in my chest. Then I hit send.

The message showed as delivered immediately. I put the phone down, not wanting to be tempted to watch and see if he read the message. I couldn’t help but wonder if he was still in bed with that woman curled up next to him.

“Good,” Cleo said softly, though her expression was sympathetic. “He doesn’t deserve you anyway. Now we can focus on your actual career. Your real life. Not this fake relationship bullshit.”

“Right. Real life.”

“I’ll make us breakfast,” Cleo announced, heading to my kitchen. “And then we’re going to plan the best content week you’ve ever had. We’re going to show everyone that you don’t need anyone to be successful.”

“Okay.”

She paused at the kitchen entrance. “Mel? You did the right thing.”

“I know.”

But as I sat there on my couch, listening to Cleo bang around in my kitchen, my phone silent with Austin’s non-response, I wasn’t sure I believed it.

The right thing wasn’t supposed to hurt this much.

CHAPTER 23

AUSTIN

Death would be a mercy. That was my first coherent thought when I woke up with what felt like an ice pick lodged in my skull and sandpaper coating my tongue.

My second thought was that I needed water immediately or I was going to die right here in my stupidly expensive bed.

One would think I would learn my lesson. How many times had I been in this exact position? The hangovers were brutal. And usually I would tell myself I wasn’t going to do it again. The cotton mouth. The pounding headache. The queasiness. I started the usual process trying to remember the events of the night before. I slowly reached my hand out, praying to all the gods there wasn’t a body next to me.

There wasn’t.

But I did remember a woman. If she wasn’t in my bed, did that mean she was somewhere else in the penthouse?

I tried to sit up. The room spun and my stomach lurched. I fell back against the pillows, groaning.

“Fuck,” I muttered to no one.