Page 46 of Faking It with my Billionaire Grump

Once more, I’m blown away by the beauty of his ranch as we spend an hour checking on the cattle and the horses. When he’s not showing me where his land ends, and I’m not taking in the beautiful view, my mind is thinking about what Jake said earlier.

It’s nothing I haven’t heard before; I suppose I’m just surprised I heard it from Jake. Not because it’s Jake. I just didn’trealize I had been hard on myself in front of him. But I must have been, right? Or he wouldn’t have mentioned it.

After dinner, we sit out on the porch and listen to the crickets chirping to each other. It feels a little strange. I’ve never been here this late.

“You busy Saturday night?” Jake asks out of the blue.

I shake my head. “Don’t think so. Why?”

“It’s the annual hoedown. I thought we might go.”

Inwardly, I groan, thinking of the last time we were at the hoedown together. That was the night I completely humiliated Jake. The night I lost it. The night I ended it between us.

“It’s okay, Tilly,” he says, like he’s reading my mind. “All that was a long time ago.”

18

Jake

It’s weird having someoneelse in the house, even weirder that it’s Tilly. Before she left, this would have been the dream for our future. Sure, Dad was still around then, but the house is big enough that we could have stayed here. It just feels bizarre that it’s happening now.

I’m under no illusion, though. This is not real, and I have to keep that at the forefront of my mind. Some days, it’s harder than others, like the other day when Tilly fell off the ladder and nearly broke her neck.

There was a moment there, a moment that reminded me of our old days—the way we used to look at each other. But Tilly made swift work of that, and the moment was gone. She was embarrassed—I know that—but she was also uncomfortable, which is why I know that this isn’t real.

Her being here is more like having a housemate than a wife. And though I have no idea how long this pretense will go on, I’m not really in any rush for her to go.

Careful, Jake.

Yes, I’ll admit it: I’ve warmed up to her a lot more since she arrived back in town. Maybe it’s because I can see how vulnerable she is. Once upon a time, Tilly Collins was a woman who knew what she wanted and fiercely went after it. That is not the same person who now shares this huge house with me.

While I don’t know for certain because she hasn’t really told me a great deal about what went on, I have a pretty good idea that her lack of confidence might have something to do with that Bryan guy. Clearly, he’s a piece of work. How she ended up with him in the first place is beyond me. Who knows? Maybe things were different at the beginning.

“He wasn’t always the way he is now,” Tilly says when I eventually ask her about it, early on Saturday morning.

We’re out on the porch again, drinking coffee. This is my second. I’m an early riser, Tilly, not so much.

“What changed?”

She shrugs. “He did. It took me far too long to work out that he wasn’t who I thought he was. Or should I say, who he portrayed himself to be in the beginning? But then, control freak narcissists never show their true colors at the start, do they?”

I don’t reply to that. I figure it’s more of a rhetorical question. Besides, I don’t know any control freak narcissists to be able to comment.

“I thought he was a good guy,” she continues. “We were introduced by one of my work colleagues and seemed to hit it off straight away. In fact”—she snorts derisively and shakes her head—“he even played hard to get. Like an idiot, I pursued him, but now I know the game he was playing. At the time, I suppose I was too naïve. I didn’t know the signs because I’d never experienced them before.”

I can’t help feeling the slightest twinge of pain at her words. She’d left me—a decent guy, I think—and ended up chasingsomeone like Bryan? Maybe I shouldn’t compare, but I can’t help myself.

“How long were you guys together?” I ask.

“Three years, but the last six months… well, even longer than that, really, things have just gone from bad to worse. I should have left a long time ago, but…”

She trails off, but I don’t push it. Talking about it obviously doesn’t make her feel good, and I don’t want her feeling bad anymore.

“Well, he should have heard about our marriage by now,” I say. “Maybe he’ll get the hint and head back to the city.”

“He’s already gone,” Tilly says wistfully.

“Really?” I gasp.

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