Page 77 of Fake It 'til You Make It

It makes more sense now that the Abbey I first met was so comfortable amongst flashy shoes and designer handbags, and that she so easily slipped into enjoying her business class seats on the airplane. But I was wrong when I prejudged her. Abbey is one of the most genuine people I’ve ever met… The whole con of this visit aside, of course.

The home is three stories of a magazine-perfect ski lodge, with balconies all around the second and third floor, looking down across the valley behind us. If this is my digs for the next six nights, count me in.

We pull up to the front where there are two large wood doors and overhanging them is a huge wood carving of the head of a moose.

Nick tells us he’ll bring our bags in so Abbey can get inside tosee her mom, but after a back-and-forth exchange, we agree that I’ll carry my own.

‘Your mom is out back,’ Nick tells Abbey, then quieter, but not so quiet that I miss it, he says, ‘Fair warning, the new guy is for sure going to get the backlash from your fall out with the ex-guy.’

Abbey gives me what I think is an apologetic smile. It looks like Mike is going to have to bring his A game, which is fine. But if Abbey’s family doesn’t like an ego, they won’t likeactualMike’s personality. There’s going to be a fine line to be walked here. I may have to be a chameleon.

But carrying two bags in my hands and following Nick into the house, I’m left wondering, not for the first time, why Abbey hasn’t told her family the truth of her break-up with Andrew – she doesn’t surely want to protect him, and if she does, why? In case they might get back together?

She deserves so much more than his lies.

More than mine, too.

The inside of the house is a mix of old-chalet charm – wooden beams and carvings – with elegant, modern upholstery. I slip off my sneakers at the door then look up, startled by a life-size statue of a brown bear.Jesus.

Nick catches my reaction and chuckles. Then he continues toward a central staircase. ‘That’s nothing by comparison to her mom,’ he says.

The staircase turns back on itself and onto the first floor, where a wall of windows gives a panoramic view of the stunning surrounds. I’m drawn to it so much that I forget to follow Nick, until I hear him call, ‘This way, bud.’

We pass three closed doors as we move along a corridor and finally Nick opens one at the end. ‘This is you guys,’ he says. ‘Abbey’s room.’

He pushes open the door and lets me walk in of my ownaccord, and I see why. It’s like he’s inviting me into a shrine of Abbey and her ex – there are photographs of the two of them everywhere.

‘Sorry, Mike. You might run into his face a few more times whilst you’re here and I doubt her mom has done anything to make you feel more at ease. This was almost a predestined marriage, whether Abbey liked it or not.’ Nick sets Abbey’s luggage just inside the door. ‘But I won’t bullshit you, she did buy into it.’ He pats me on the back. ‘Still, I reckon being an MLB player gets you a few extra man points.’

Right. For sure it does, otherwise I might not still be misleading a woman I’ve come to respect. I might have found the confidence to be myself in spirit and name.

Nick says he’ll take me outside to Abbey but when I confirm I’m happy to make my own way, he leaves and closes the bedroom door behind him.

The walls are a subtle green color, the bed is fittingly resting on a wood frame – the logistics of the one double will be something I’m sure Abbey will have a view on already. The bedspread is white and teal checks and the soft cushions around the pillows are the same color as the walls.

It has an ensuite and the open door allows me to see a bathtub with a shower hanging over it, a small sink toilet and vanity unit. It’s like a hotel ensuite in size and finish. Patio doors lead on to a balcony and they’re open, white curtains hanging either side and framing the stunning view that I saw at the top of the staircase.

Abbey used to wake up to this every morning. I turn my back on the landscape and look to the bed, imagining her lounging and happy in amongst nature. This whole place tells me so much more about her than her warm but minimalist apartment in Blake House.

This room feels more Abbey. Her want to be outdoors, close to nature. Where she doesn’t need to wear painful shoes or feel forced to go online dating. Though how I remedy that with acting, I’m not sure.

Thinking about her dating makes me realize that she and Andrew will have lain in this bed together, waking up to this view in the morningstogether, and my attention is brought to things that make this room feel like it might be exactly how Abbey left it when she moved to New York. An entire wall of pictures above a white desk with a lamp on it and neatly arranged stationery that gives me the sense that Abbey used to get very giddy about going back to school.

I don’t want to pry without her permission but she does know that I’m up here. So I don’t think she can be mad at me seeing all the pictures of her: she and her sister, heads together and smiling, sitting on a wall at what looks like an après-ski café, both wearing matching pants and jackets with ski boots.

There are numerous variations of the same two smiling faces, as well as multiple pictures of Abbey and Shernette.

The likeness between Abbey and her mom is uncanny. I recognize Abbey in pictures with her parents and her older brother. There’s a family picture that looks like it has aunts and uncles, maybe cousins – I recognize Nick’s face.

But in amongst all of these pictures, there are a multitude of pictures of Abbey and Andrew, arms around each other, lips pressed to each other’s, even phonebooth pictures of them wearing moustaches and top hats with their black-tie outfits. There are group pictures with Abbey and Andrew standing next to each other amongst family and friends.

The pictures of the couple span years of Abbey’s life. There’s even one of two toddler-aged children, whom I might havemistaken as Abbey and her brother, but for the fact that at some point, Abbey drew a love heart around the two tots.

Staring at this wall, I’m wondering if this whole trip is founded on a giant fallacy. Maybe Abbey doesn’t want to save face; she wants to make Andrew jealous, to make him want her back. And I’m the bait.

I head out to the balcony, lean my forearms on the rail, and breathe in the scent of the pine trees, tuning in to a woodpecker somewhere in the distance.

What am I doing? And why do I have a distinct feeling of jealousy after looking at that wall?

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