Page 15 of Her Counterfeit Christmas
I swallow thickly. “Spencer, I plan to marry for love.”
“I refuse to marry for love,” he says with conviction as he places his spoon on the table. “Love doesn’t last. My dad has married three times because hefell in love,and within five years, all three marriages ended. In contrast, my grandparents were practically strangers when they married, pushed together by their parents, and they lasted over sixty years through mutual respect. That’s the marriage I want.” He takes my hand from where it lies on the table. “I respect you. We get along. We’re honest with each other. That’s what makes a successful relationship. Not love.”
“And the money your grandma is offering.” It’s my turn to study him.
He smiles, but doesn’t disagree. “Money makes everything in life easier.”
I can’t argue. I’m exhausted from being broke. Worn thin from stressing about money and worrying about how I’ll give Nana everything she needs.
Would financial security be worth the loneliness I know I’ll feel married to Spencer? Can I let go of the idea of marriage for love and be content with one of camaraderie? Igrew up watching Nana and Opa together. I’ve dreamed of a marriage like theirs. A marriage between me and Spencer would be an imitation of love; a counterfeit of the real thing.
In a month, will I regret turning him down? In a year, will I regret saying yes?
My thoughts turn to Owen. Tonight was the first time we’d ever spoken, and yet, being with him I felt comfortable and accepted. If I say yes to Spencer, I have no chance with Owen. Not that I did before because I refuse to bring him into my financial troubles. Still, the loss feels deep, which is ridiculous because we officially met only hours ago.
Spencer’s phone buzzes with a call and our glances clash across the table. It’s a moment of truth. Will he resist the siren call of work? A war wages inside of him, and it’s visible across his face. He pushes the button on the side, sending the call to voicemail.
I’m surprised. I didn’t think he had it in him.
“Why do you want to marryme?” I ask. “There must be innumerable women who would jump at the chance to marry you.” Somewhat hesitantly I add, “Someone who is in your social class.”
He shakes his head before I’ve finished. “I don’t want someone who wants me for my name or my money.”
I laugh at that. “That’s exactly what you’re offering me.”
He smiles sheepishly. “It’s different between us. Wealth doesn’t go to your head like it does other women I’ve dated. I love how sensible and frugal you are. Layla, believe me when I say I’ve given this a lot of thought. When Grandmother mentioned wanting to see her grandkids married, you were the first person who came to mind. Everyone else I’ve dated can’t compete.”
I’m not sure if I should be offended or flattered. “What about the model you dated in August?”
“She wouldn’t eat with me watching.” He leans close and talks as if he’s telling me a dirty secret. “Unless we went to a restaurant with a private dining room, and I moved my chair so I wasn’t facing her, we never went out to eat.”
I try not to laugh. It’s a surprise they lasted a full month considering how much Spencer appreciates good food.
His expression sobers. “Layla, I love you. Not the way you expect me to with this proposal, but I do. We’re good friends. That’s a solid foundation for a marriage.”
I’m reminded of something Nana said to me once, about how there are layers of love. Romantic love. Family love. Friendly love. I love Spencer, too. I value his friendship and the time we spend together. But marriage?
“What are your expectations for this marriage?” I ask.
He grins like he’s already convinced me. Maybe he has.
“We build a life together. Buy a home. Make a family. Grow old together.”
A family.That’s all I’ve ever wanted. Without this enormous debt I’ve accrued, I could actually have one.
“You’ll love my family,” he says, chipping away at my resolve to tell him no. “Fly with me to Maine tomorrow. Let me introduce everyone to my fiancée.”
I laugh at the audacity. He expects me to drop everything and fly to Maine with only a few hours’ notice. Classic Spencer.
“I can’t leave with you tomorrow. It’s four days before Christmas. I have plans.”
“Spend eight days, starting tomorrow, in Maine with me,and at the end, I’ll give you fifty-thousand dollars outright. It’ll be enough to cover Ellen’s expenses until we marry.”
My heart literally stops. Fifty-thousand dollars. Does he realize how tantalizing the money is to me? He must. It’s a carrot to get me moving in the direction he wants. Annoying, but effective.
What is my other option? I already know: Nana being evicted from Brock Pine Home. She’d be taken into state care, and they’d get to choose where she lives and how she’s cared for. I’ve looked into the care homes the state will pay for, and I can’t let Nana live in any of them. I want her to get better care, not less care.
In the end, it’s not such a difficult decision.
