Page 89 of My Real Love Affair

Then it clicked. Melody had just finished her interview. Stacy had scheduled me right after. “No. I didn’t know. I swear.”

But even as I said it, I realized how it looked. It looked like I orchestrated this. Like I had used my connections to engineer a “chance” meeting.

“It’s a coincidence,” I insisted, looking at Melody. “I promise. My publicist set this up last week. I had no idea you’d be here. I would have brought flowers.”

She studied my face, trying to determine if I was lying. I held her gaze, letting her see the truth.

“Okay,” she said finally, though she didn’t sound entirely convinced.

“It’s nice to see you,” I said, and meant it. “Really nice.”

Her cheeks flushed slightly. I wanted to kiss her. Wanted it so badly my hands actually twitched with the impulse. Instead, I shoved them in my pockets.

“You too,” she said softly. “It’s nice to see you too.”

The air between us felt combustible. Like if either of us moved, something would ignite.

Cleo cleared her throat loudly. “Well, this has just been delightful, but we should probably go.”

“How did your interview go?” I asked, desperate to keep Melody here for just a few more seconds. “I bet you killed it.”

“It went well,” Melody said. I could hear the pride in her voice. “Really well, actually. Stacy was great. She’s tough but fair. She’s going to ask about me, you know. About us.”

I nodded. “I know. I’m prepared. Did she ask you?”

“She did.”

“What did you say?”

“The truth. That it’s over.”

The words hit harder than I expected, even though I’d known they were coming.

“Right,” I managed. “The truth.”

We stood there in awkward silence, neither of us quite willing to walk away.

“I should get inside,” I said finally. “Don’t want to keep Stacy waiting.”

“Yeah. Of course.”

But neither of us moved. Melody looked like she wanted to say something. Her mouth opened, closed. Her fingers twisted together, a nervous gesture I recognized.

“Melody,” I started.

“Austin,” she said at the same time.

We both stopped. Both waited.

“You first,” I said.

She hesitated, then shook her head. “No, it’s nothing. Good luck with your interview.”

“We should go,” Cleo interjected, taking Melody’s arm. “Come on. Let the man do his thing.”

Melody let herself be pulled away, but her eyes stayed on mine for a beat longer. And in that moment, I saw the same longing I felt reflected back at me. She wasn’t over this either. Over us.

I watched them go, my heart doing things it had no business doing. I was so fucked. But also—for the first time in three weeks—I felt hope.