Page 85 of Hard to Fake

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BROOKE

Crying isn't something I do often.

Sadness means sorrow, regret.

I don’t let myself regret.

The bed creaks behind me, the mattress dipping as Milesshifts in behind me.

His warm chest heats my shoulders, and I stiffen."What are you…?"

His arm wraps around me, pulls me back against him.

Gentle.

Insistent.

“Don’t,” I whisper.

“Don’t what?” His voice is low and soothing, a rumble against my shoulder. “Don’t hold you when it’s damned obvious that’s what you need?”

I try to fight him. The careful effort I put into my appearance is long gone, replaced by a makeup-stained face and a T-shirt I pulled on after ripping off the dress I chose for dinner.

He doesn't let go. He reaches for the hair stuck to my face and smooths it behind my ear.

I cry for real. Miles holds me tighter, his hand rubbing soothing circles on my back. I feel safe and comforted in his embrace, knowing that he won't judge me for my tears.

I let out all my frustration, my pain, my anger, and my sadness. I cry until there are no more tears left, until my sobs turn into soft whimpers, until I'm completely drained.

Years of feeling as if I have to prove myself worthy every single day, of defending the things I want to be proud of.

Eventually, Miles disappears into the bathroom and returns moments later with a glass of water.

I take a long drink. He's a silhouette as he retrieves the glass from me and sets it on the nightstand.

“You probably think I’m a mess,” I manage.

“I think you’re beautiful.”

Miles shifts back onto the bed, andI feel his body heat against mine again. It's comforting.

“Growing up, my mom used to tell us, ‘It’s what they see that matters,’” I say. “She said she meant that we should always do our best, but I took it as meaning you should protect your image at all costs. I went to the best schools, made the right friends, wore the right clothes, dated the right boys.”

I think of Kevin.

“But at a certain point, I realized how much of it was an act. The smiling pictures. The surface-level acceptance. And the truth is, some people get away with behaving badly. They get a hundred chances.”

“I’m going to say something I have no business saying.” Miles’s breath warms my neck. “I’m glad he dumped you.”

I chuckle, my throat thick. “Because it means you got to come to this amazing weekend as my fake boyfriend years later?”

“Because there is no universe in which a prick like that deserves to be with a woman like you.”

His words don’t only smooth over my rough surfaces, they heal them.

I take a shaky breath.

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