Page 80 of It's Not All Fake

“Lucas is still up to God knows what. My clients’ secrets will be all over the internet soon,” she continues, her frustration mounting with each word. “And seeing Cathy touch you like that,” she gestures back to the house where it happened, “makes me feel like a jealous girlfriend, which is absurd since I’m not actually your girlfriend!”

I shake my head; she’s got this all wrong. “Chloe, there’s nothing going on with Cathy. I promised you fidelity and I meant it.”

She looks at me, her emotions raw. “Well, you’d better set clearer boundaries if you want a real girlfriend. A real girlfriend isn’t going to like another woman touching you like that,” she advises me, her voice edged with pain.

“I’ll set better boundaries then,” I try to reassure her.

She nods, her face a complex tapestry of anger and sorrow. “You can start with me. This arrangement isn’t normal or healthy, and I can’t do it anymore.”

I'm taken aback. I want to argue, to convince her that she's wrong. But I'm at a loss for words.

“You told me you loved me during a press interview,” she remarks with a scoff, though her eyes shimmer with tears.

“I meant it,” I respond earnestly.

“Did you?” she questions, her voice breaking. “I think we’ve been method acting a little too well. I can’t tell what’s real anymore, and I don’t think you can either.”

I shake my head. "That's not true."

But she has made up her mind. "I'm sorry," she says softly before turning to get into her car.

I watch her silently as the engine starts. She gives me one last look—resolute in her decision, but I can see the hurt in her eyes.

This is the moment—my final chance to stop her.

Maybe she wants me to stop her, to convince her to stay.

But I’m paralyzed, unsure of how to keep her here when her every instinct is to flee.

As her car pulls away and the sound fades into the night, I remain motionless. The quiet envelops me, oppressive and heavy.

I exhale, forcing myself to regain composure—I need to go inside, thank the media people, and act like everything is okay.

Act.

All the fucking acting.

No wonder Chloe doesn’t know what to believe. I can’t blame her for walking away.

But as I make my way back to the house, a dull ache throbs in my chest.

I recognize the feeling. It’s a distant bad memory; something I haven’t felt in a very long time.

It’s the unmistakable pain of heartbreak.

CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

CHLOE

As the plane descends, I press my forehead against the cool window, watching wisps of clouds streak past.

I feel a sense of relief knowing that I am thousands of miles away from everything that happened in Los Angeles. This is exactly what I needed.

Yet, I still find myself searching for him. This morning, as I stepped out of my apartment to catch my Uber, I half-expected to see Liam there, ready to plead with me to stay. As I boarded the plane, I couldn’t help but look down the terminal, wondering if he would come running after me. And every time my phone buzzes, I hope it’s a call or text from him.

But there’s nothing.

I laugh at myself a little. Clearly, I think I'm living in a movie. Maybe I imagined our entire relationship. In reality, it was probably nothing more than business with a side of pleasure for him.

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