Page 39 of The Fake Dating War

My father yelps. Bebe, his mother, has nipped her wheelchair into the back of his feet.

“Let me in,” she yells. “Let me in. I want to see him!”

Others in the hall are turning their heads. Bodies move slowly over as if Coleman is fresh meat for the horde of gossip zombies inching over to devour him.

“My family is a lot,” I say, passing off my warning as a good-natured joke. He better not freak out. I still don’t know why he’s agreed to be here, but I bet he didn’t expect to be bombarded like this. Full Indian siege coming.

The wave of questions waiting to be asked makes the air feel thick, and now I’m sweating. Is this where it all falls apart? Did I make a huge mistake? For a second, I’m struck with the possibility that he isn’t here to pretend to be my boyfriend, but has come to humiliate me in front of everyone. Not that it’s his style, but my scoreboard victory pissed him off. Whydidhe agree to this?

I feel myself pale.

“It’s lovely,” Coleman says, raising his voice to address the group. “This whole place is more than I expected. Gorgeous place for a wedding.”

“Thank you for noticing,” says my sister. “Keep noticing. What do you like about it?”

If she could break out in song, she would.Rain down your compliments on me!

“I had no idea this kind of place existed,” he admits. “It’s very unique. One-of-a-kind.”

“Not many people know about it,” boasts my sister.

True.

Bells Estates and The Bells Hotel all belong in the small town of Bells Falls, though calling it even that feels generous. It’s more of a smattering of specifically designed streets and buildings customized to serve the event industry. The illusion is that we’ve stumbled onto some quaint village isolated from the real world. Everything is a curated immersive experience of elegant joy.

It’s also a pain to get here.

If I hadn’t hoarded points on my credit card for the flight, and my parents weren’t paying for a big block of the rooms for everyone they consider immediate family, this would all be out of my budget.

What that means is Coleman has flown in, but also agreed to spend this weekend not only cut off from work, but from the rest of the world. That brings up my question again.Why?

Green eyes meet mine properly. “You look… different.”

“Haven’t you seen her in traditional Punjabi clothes?” my mother asks.

“It’s loose on her, isn’t it?” says Serena, with her unnecessary commentary.

Coleman shrugs as if he’s not surprised in the least bit by the bagginess of my wardrobe. Screw him, but also… facts.

“She’s lost weight,” says Bebe. “But we’ll plump her up this week. Reema has nice birthing hips when she eats.”

Birthing hips?! Might as well put me in stirrups for everyone to fucking examine!

“Do you want kids?” my father asks, drilling him. “We like kids.”

My face is on fire. I go stand in front of Coleman, blocking him from the rest of them. “We can catch up later! Let him get settled in first!”

“Where did the two of you meet?” Serena asks, yelling the question as if afraid it won’t reach us.

“Dating app,” says Coleman, at the same time as I answer, “Work.”

Laughing loudly, I nudge his solid chest with my elbow. “That’s not—we said we’d tell the truth.Work.”

“You like the truth?” he questions, the ghost of a condescending smirk on his lips.

He’s not… Is he… He better not… What’s his agenda?!

“How long have you been together?” asks Serena, deliberately directing the question at him. What am I? Invisible?

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