Page 41 of His Fake Wife

“I know. I couldn’t help myself. Seriously, I appreciate this.”

“I really hope this fixes things with your lady, whom I haven’t met. I forgive you for having to find out that you got married via social media, by the way. I thought I would have been your best man,” he grumbled and I smiled.

If my marriage to Beth had been real from the beginning, he would have been. Explaining the sordid details to my friend or anyone wasn’t going to happen. That would stay between Beth and me forever.

“Uh...everything happened really fast. I have to go. Thanks again.”

“No problem. Hopefully, the next time we meet up it won’t end in disaster.”

“It won’t.”

There would be no more getting wasted in any club. I’d learned my lesson.

When I went out drinking with a few of my buddies to blow off steam, I had no idea I’d end up in a media circus. Although, I should have been more careful, considering that I was no stranger to scandals. I knew from experience that the truth was usually twisted for public pleasure.

“I'll talk to you later, Eric. I owe you big time for getting this.”

“I’ll be sure to collect. Later.”

I practically sprinted to Beth’s room. For the first time in a week, the door was open but she wasn’t there. I went on the hunt ending up in the kitchen.

“Beth?”

No answer.

For fuck sake where was the woman when I wanted to prove my innocence?

“Beth!”

“What!” A scowling Beth closed the refrigerator door. “I’m not deaf.”

We lived in the same house and I hadn’t seen her in days. So, I took a few seconds to take her in. Her hair hung in a disheveled curtain and she looked a bit paler than usual. Still, I thought she looked incredible, especially with her mouth in that petulant pout that I loved so much.

“Did you wake the dead just to stand there and stare at me?” I only noticed the carton of Ben and Jerry’s in her hand when she scooped some up and stuffed it into her mouth.

“I came to apologize.”

She lifted a brow and continued eating, her eyes that I could usually read, giving away nothing.

“This should be good.”

“I couldn’t apologize sooner because somebody refused to come out of her room. I’m glad to see you didn’t starve.”

“Please, I wait until you leave to come out every day. What are you doing here today anyway?”

“It’s Saturday.”

She shrugged.

“You work on Saturdays.”

I was still getting the evil eye but at least she was talking to me.

“I was determined to talk to you. It’s a good thing you came out. I was thinking of kicking your door in,” I teased, trying to lighten the mood.

“Your house, your door,” she shrugged. “Good thing I’ll be out of here in a few months.”

My smile dropped at the reminder that I had six measly months to gain her trust and maybe?hopefully?her love.

---