Page 88 of Her Counterfeit Christmas
He snorts. “No thanks. He’s stolen my fiancée. I think that’s all I need to know about him. So, we’re done? No longer engaged? You’re giving up a chance to care for your grandmother so you can find a fairytalelove?”
The most depressing part about my future is I won’t ever find love. I refuse to bring Owen into my financial problems, and I doubt that will change with anyone else I meet going forward. Spencer doesn’t need to know I’m picking a life of loneliness over him.
It’s time to ask the big question. I overlook Spencer's anger. He has a right to it. I’ve done him wrong. But I still need money.
“I’m sorry I’ve hurt you, Spencer. It wasn’t my intention, and I know you’re angry, but I have a favor to ask. Last Friday, before you proposed, I asked you for a loan. Is that something you’d reconsider?”
He takes a few steps away, his attention on his feet as they crunch through the snow. He turns back to face me. Fat snowflakes gather in his hair. The longer he takes to answer, the more I believe he’ll say no. I begin to make a plan for moving Nana to a home the state will pay for.
Spencer finally says, “Alright.”
I slump against the side of the house, lightheaded with relief. “Thank you.”
“Don’t sound so surprised. I’m not a monster. My assistant will send you a contract on Monday. As soon as you sign it, I’ll wire transfer the funds to your account.”
He’s going to be okay. He’s hurt and angry, but not furious or filled with the need to cause me pain. I wish I could love him. This past year, each time we dated, I wished the same thing.
He tugs at the bottom of his sweater. “Anything else?”
“I should return your ring.” I slip it off my finger and hold it out.
He doesn’t touch it. He can’t even look at it. “If you put it on the dresser in my room, then I’ll be sure not to lose it.” He turns to go back inside, but then pauses. “It would be better if you left tomorrow instead of Saturday. I’ll change your flight and text you the details. I’m sure Miles will drive you to the airport.”
“Thank you, Spencer. For everything.” I hope he hears my gratitude in my voice. The words feel paltry compared to what he’s given me and Nana.
He shuts the door firmly behind him. I’d rather not walk through the office after that conversation, so there better be an unlocked door somewhere in this house. Once again, I’m caught outside without a phone.
“Layla?”
I jump at the unexpected voice coming from my left.
Rheta, wrapped in the shawl I gave her for Christmas, steps next to me.
“It’s a lovely night, isn’t it?”
“Um…”
Did she hear my conversation with Spencer? Please, no. I want her to continue to like me.
She pats my arm. “I’m sorry you won’t be a part of the family, but you made the right decision. Marriage is hard and without love, it’s nearly impossible to make a go of it.”
Shame colors my cheeks crimson. My whole body feels overheated. How far below is the ground? Close enough for me to jump and survive? I’m sure the two inches of snow will help cushion my fall.
“Rheta, I’m sorry for lying to you. I was desperate, which made me foolish.”
“You didn’t lie. Never once did you tell me you loved my grandson, and you didn’t need to because it was obvious to everyone you two don’t share those feelings. I wondered what the motivation was behind your engagement, and now I know. No lasting harm done.”
I glance at the closed office door. I think she’s right. I hope so.
“Thank you for understanding,” I say, “though I don’t feel I deserve it.”
“Nonsense. Life is about learning, and in the process, we all make mistakes. Sometimes those mistakes put us exactly where we’re meant to be.”
That’s an optimistic view of life. “Do you really think so?”
“Yes, I do. Now, you’re ready to go inside. My bedroom is two doors down. You can go through there.”
My shoulders sag in relief. “Thank you. And thank you for a wonderful Christmas. I loved being here.”
