Page 95 of Our Chaotic Love Affair

“This is not the guy I was with last night.” The words were whispered. I didn’t know if I said it for him to hear or if it was just me saying it out loud to try and get my head straight.

“That man does not exist.”

I blinked back tears. Why did those words gut me?

He held out his hand. “I need the ring back.”

My eyes widened. “What?”

“The ring. I need it back.”

My throat closed up. I looked down at my hand. The fake symbol of a fake engagement that had started feeling like something else entirely. I twisted it off and dropped it into his palm.

He closed his fist around it without looking at it. Without looking at me.

“I’m sorry,” I said. The words came out barely above a whisper. “I’m sorry I gave you mixed messages. I kissed you—I wanted you—and then I told you no.” I was grasping now, desperate to find the right combination of words that would make him look at me the way he had in the courtyard. “I took your money, I accepted this trip, I pretended to be your fiancée, and I enjoyed every second of it, and then I panicked when it got too real.”

“Stop.” His voice was gentle, which somehow made it worse. “You don’t need to apologize.”

“Then why do I feel like I ruined everything?”

“You didn’t ruin anything, Cleo.” He pocketed the ring. “This was always going to end. We both knew that.”

He turned back to the railing and stared out at the skyline. “You got a fantasy weekend, Cleo. Good food, good wine, ancient history. A few days pretending to be someone I’m not. But that’s all it was. Pretend.”

I felt tears burning behind my eyes and absolutely refused to let them fall. “You’re a liar.”

“Excuse me?”

“You’re lying. To me or to yourself, I’m not sure which, but you’re lying.” I stood in the doorway. I couldn’t be close to him. I didn’t want to be tempted to touch him. “That man exists. I’ve seen him. I’ve talked to him. He’s real, Cash.”

“Go pack,” he said quietly. “We leave at six.”

The man I thought I knew was gone.

I went inside, picked up my shopping bags, and made it to my room before the tears started. I closed the door and leaned against it and let myself cry quiet, furious tears that I wiped away as fast as they fell.

I flopped on my bed and pulled out my phone. “Hey,” I said, trying to sound normal when Melody answered.

“You’ve been crying.”

So much for normal. “You can tell?”

“I know your voice, Cleo. What happened?”

I told her. All of it. The shopping disaster, Angelica Rossi, coming back to find Cash completely shut down, the ring. Cash.

“We’re flying home tomorrow,” I finished. “And I think I really fucked this up.”

“You didn’t fuck anything up.”

“I gave him mixed messages. I told him no and then I kissed him and then I told him no again.”

“Stop.” Her voice was firm, very mom-like. “Listen to me. Cash is doing what Bancroft men do when they’re scared. They shut down. They compartmentalize. They convince themselves that feeling things is a weakness.”

“He said the guy I danced with never existed.”

“He’s lying.”