Page 77 of My Real Love Affair

“Shit.” I stared at the message, my brain struggling to process through the fog of alcohol. “Shit, shit, shit.”

“What?” Rodney called from the bathroom.

“I fucked up.”

“Yeah, you fucked up a lot last night. You made your daddy real proud, buddy.”

I looked up at that. “What?”

“Nothing. Never mind.” There was a pause. “Can you bring me some water? And maybe a bucket? And possibly a priest?”

I ignored him, reading Melody’s message again.This isn’t going to work anymore.

She’d ended it. Ended us. Ended the arrangement.

Because I’d done exactly what she’d expected me to do. Exactly what everyone always expected me to do. Fuck it up.

I’d gone out. I had gotten drunk and let some random woman put her hands on me while cameras caught every second of it. And now Melody had done the logical thing and cut me loose.

I screwed up. Like I always did. Like my father and Cash had always known I would.

But this time, it wasn’t just my reputation on the line. This time, I’d hurt someone else. Someone who didn’t deserve it.

Fuck.

I had to fix this. Somehow, I had to make it right.

“Rodney!” I stalked back to the bathroom, where he was now sitting up against the wall, looking green. “I need help.”

“I need to die. We can’t both get what we want.”

“I’m serious. I fucked up with Melody. I need to fix it.”

He cracked one eye open. “The girl you were moping about all last night? The one you refused to stop talking about even when I told you to shut up?”

“I talked about her?”

“For like two hours straight. Very pathetic.” He rubbed his face. “What happened?”

I showed him the photo with the message.

Rodney winced. “Ouch. Yeah, you fucked up.”

“I know that. I need to know how to un-fuck it up.”

“Can you? Un-fuck it up, I mean?” He looked at me with something like pity. “She seems pretty done, man.”

“I have to try.” I was pacing now, my hangover momentarily forgotten in the face of this new crisis. “I’ll beg. I’ll grovel. I’ll?—”

“Ew, no. Never beg. That’s embarrassing.”

“Then what? Flowers? Chocolates? A sincere apology?”

“Feels not good enough.” Rodney was inching toward the toilet now, his face going from green to slightly gray. “You hurt her, Austin. And not in anoops I forgot your birthdaykind of way. You just gave her confirmation.”

“Confirmation?”

“You’re a playboy. A bachelor that will never change his ways.”