Page 114 of Our Chaotic Love Affair

“About what?”

“Don’t play dumb. It’s beneath you.” He leaned back in his chair. “You’re in love with her. She’s clearly not over you. This tension is making everyone uncomfortable.”

“I’m not making anyone uncomfortable.”

“Cash, Austin asked me earlier if you two were going to ‘keep being weird’ all weekend. Direct quote.”

I looked at my soon-to-be-married brother who was currently deep in conversation with Hayes about something that involved a lot of hand gestures. Austin looked happy. Settled. Like he’d figured out the equation I was still struggling with.

“I don’t want to ruin his wedding,” I said.

“You won’t ruin his wedding by being happy.” Finn nudged my shoulder. “Just saying.”

“This is his day. His weekend. I’m not going to fall in love on his day.”

Finn snorted. “First of all, you already did that. Second of all, it takes nothing from his day. That’s the dumbest thing I’ve ever heard.”

Melody made her excuses and circled the room, saying goodnight. With the pregnancy and it being her big day tomorrow, she needed to be well-rested. The bridesmaids followed shortly after, a parade of hugs and excited squealing about the big day.

Cleo was the last to leave. She caught my eye across the patio, lifted her Diet Coke in a small salute, and disappeared inside.

I watched her go and felt the loss of her presence like a physical thing. Her energy was like the sun. When it went to bed for the night, you felt it. There was a chill. A sadness. Longing.

“Okay, she’s gone,” Austin said, suddenly appearing beside me. “You can stop looking like a sad puppy now.”

“I don’t look like a sad puppy.”

“You look exactly like a sad puppy.” He grabbed the bottle of whiskey from the table and refilled both our glasses. “Want to talk about it?”

“Not particularly.”

“Too bad. You’re my best man. I’m legally required to give you relationship advice the night before my wedding. It’s tradition.”

“That’s not a tradition.”

“It is now. I’m making it one.” He settled into the chair beside me. “So. Cleo.”

I took a long drink. Finn sauntered over, clearly feeling the alcohol he’d been consuming all night, and fell into a chair all Gumby-like.

“That bad, huh?” Austin asked.

“I’m in love with her,” I said.

The words came out easier than I expected. Maybe because I’d had enough whiskey that my filters were down. Maybe because Austin was getting married tomorrow and that made tonight feel like some kind of safe confessional space. He knew love. He knew how it snuck up on you and grabbed you by the balls without warning.

Maybe because I was tired of pretending.

“I know,” Austin said.

“You know?”

“Everyone knows. Except maybe Cleo, because you haven’t told her.” He looked at me. “Why haven’t you told her?”

“Because I—” I stopped. Started again. “Because I don’t deserve her.”

“That’s the dumbest thing I’ve ever heard.”

“I walked away from her in Rome. I shut down when she needed me to be present.” I ran a hand through my hair. “She deserves better than that.”