Page 55 of The Fake Dating War

My sister is having a baby.

She tosses a light-hearted insult my way for routine’s sake, and then goes to wipe the gunk off her face. I’m left frozen in bed. That I had something to tell her is forgotten by Esha, but it’s for the best.

She’s pregnant and stressed. And she wants this wedding to be perfect.

My stomach goes into knots.

It’s already too late.

I can’t tell her now.

All I can do is make sure no one finds out the truth about Coleman.

31

REEMA

After finishing face masks, my sister and I met our parents and a few relatives to do last-minute wedding preparations. I kept getting asked the same question again and again. Where is Jake?

Work, I repeated on loop.

That hardly satisfied them, and Serena keeps eyeing me down as if I’m seconds away from confessing the whole thing is a charade. Or bringing out Coleman and ripping his face off.

This man is a doll! I’ve deceived you all!

Either way, the guilt digs deeper. This wasn’t the plan.

Leo was supposed to be my date. We would have gone through the wedding enjoying ourselves, and he’d have gotten to meet my family. Then, a few weeks later, I would have simply told my family that Leo and I were better off as friends. Status quo would be returned. No harm done, since he would still be in my lifeasa friend. The lying wouldn’t feelasdamningin that case.

But Coleman and I staying in each other’s lives as friendly “exes”? Might as well put clown makeup on. That will never happen.

God, whydidI do this to myself?

Harry.

Right. He’s the reason I panic-invited Coleman to be my fake-boyfriend, as if it wouldn’t blow up in my face. When will I learn? Am I even capable of being a functioning adult? Current evidence screams no.

Just survive this and it will all come together.

My laptop sits by my feet. I tried accessing client files, but Mr.Davies wasn’t bluffing. He cut my access to everything. There are no leads I can follow. No clients I can quote. My portfolio hasn’t grown since I left.

In a panic, I had called Sally.

She refused to entertain work talk, but after my badgering, had confirmed I was still securely in the lead on the scoreboard. She couldn’t see how anyone could catch up to my portfolio.

The bonus is mine. The bonus is mine. The bonus is mine.

That’s the mantra I’ve fallen asleep to every night this last year, but it’s not working tonight. I’m tired, swamped, overheated, and every time I close my eyes, I imagine it.

The Lingerie Room Incident, I’ve spent all day quashing.

For some reason, it’s not working now.

No, now, I’m thinking of it and adding my own liberties to it for artistic flair.

He looked at me like he could spend forever doing it. That I was his absolute torture, but also the very possible balm to his desperate need. As if his cord of control was frayed down to the very last thread.

My hands go underneath my baggy t-shirt and press along on the soft planes of my stomach. Hardly twelve hours ago, I was in sexy lace, quivering at the intensity of his reaction. His muscles had stiffened in surprise. There was the rise of that massive bulge…

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