Page 192 of My Real Love Affair

“It’s the best,” she replied, but her voice was flat. Distant.

I watched her take a small bite of her muffin, chewing mechanically. She wasn’t even looking at me. Her gaze kept drifting to the window, to her phone, to anywhere but my face.

“You sure you’re okay?” I asked. “You seem distracted.”

“I’m fine,” she said quickly. Too quickly. “Just tired.”

But I had seen Melody tired. She had fallen asleep an hour before me. And she couldn’t have gotten up much earlier than me. This wasn’t that. This was something else entirely. She wassomewhere else, lost in her own head, and I had no idea how to reach her.

I took another sip of coffee, running through possibilities. Had I said something wrong last night? Done something? The evening had been perfect—or at least I’d thought it was. The show, the dinner, the dancing. She seemed happy.

Maybe I was overthinking it. Maybe she really was just exhausted and needed some space.

Or she was thinking about the future again. She was in her head about my declaration I didn’t want children. It wasn’t off the table, but I thought she understood I needed some time.

The thought settled uncomfortably in my chest. I’d been at her place a lot lately. Practically living here some days. Maybe she needed room to breathe. She worked a lot, and I was cramping her style. She needed to work without me constantly around.

She was an influencer, a businesswoman with her own schedule and creative process. And I had been monopolizing her time.

“You know what?” I said, setting down my coffee. “I should probably head out. Let you recover from the last couple of days.” I added a wink, trying to inject some playfulness back into the morning.

She looked at me then, and for a split second, I saw something in her eyes I couldn’t identify. Relief? Fear? Sadness?

Then she smiled. But it didn’t reach her eyes. “You don’t have to go,” she said, but there was no conviction in it.

“Nah, I’ve been hogging you all weekend. You probably have work to do, content to create. I don’t want to be in your way.”

“You’re not in my way.”

“Maybe not, but I respect your process.” I stood up, stretching. “Besides, I should probably check in at my place, make sure they haven’t rented the place out.”

That should have gotten a laugh. It would have gotten a laugh yesterday. But she just nodded, standing up too. Now I knew something was definitely wrong.

I walked to her entryway and found my shoes, slipping them on while she hovered nearby. The energy between us felt all wrong. It was full of tension. Normally, it would be easy and comfortable.

“Hey,” I said, turning to face her. I cupped her face in my hands, searching her eyes. “Whatever is going on in that head of yours, you can tell me. You know that, right?”

She nodded but didn’t speak.

“When you’re ready,” I continued. “I’m here. Whatever it is.”

“I know,” she whispered.

I kissed her forehead, then her lips, soft and quick. She kissed me back, but it felt like goodbye somehow. Like she was already pulling away even as her lips touched mine.

“I’ll call you later,” I said.

“Okay.”

The ride back to my penthouse was quiet. I stared out the window, trying to figure out what the hell had just happened. Everything had been great last night. Amazing.

And now it was wrong. I felt it in my bones.

Maybe I was being paranoid. Maybe she really was just tired and needed space. Maybe I was reading too much into it because I was so far gone for her that every small shift in her mood felt seismic.

The cab dropped me off at the hotel entrance. I rode the elevator up to my floor, already planning to text Melody later. I would give her the space she seemed to need but also let her know I was thinking about her.

The elevator doors opened, and I stepped into the foyer. Cash was sitting in the living room—again.