Page 18 of Fake Engagement with my Brother's Best Friend

Emily’s smile softens, and she reaches across the table to squeeze my hand. “You deserve to be happy, Grace. If Logan’s the one who can make you happy, then I’m all for it.”

I squeeze her hand back, the weight of the lie pressing down on me like never before. I can’t tell her the truth, not now, not when she’s so excited about everything. I don’t want to ruin her wedding with my mess, with the fallout of a fake engagement that’s spiraling out of control.

“I hope so,” I say, forcing the words out even though they feel like they’re choking me. “I really hope so.”

Emily gives me a final smile before she stands up. “Well, I better go. Don’t overthink things, okay? Sometimes, you just have to let yourself be happy.”

I nod, watching her leave, the weight of her words hanging heavily in the air. The door closes behind her, and I’m left alone again, the silence more suffocating than before.

Chapter Ten

Logan

I can sense it—Grace pulling away, putting up those walls she’s so good at building. It’s like a switch has flipped since our argument, and every time I try to reach out, she retreats further into herself. The distance between us feels like it’s growing by the minute, and I can’t stand it.

I know I messed up. I let my frustration and confusion get the best of me, and now it feels like I’m losing her. I’m not ready to give up. Not yet. Maybe it’s crazy, trying to fix things after everything that’s happened, but I have to try. I can’t just let her slip away without a fight.

That’s why I decided to do something special for her, something that might remind her of why we started this whole thing in the first place—or at least, why it started to feel real. A private dinner by the beach, just the two of us. No distractions, no arguments, just a chance to be alone together and maybe—just maybe—start to untangle this mess we’ve made.

I’m not sure she’ll even show up. After everything that’s happened, I wouldn’t blame her if she decided to skip it altogether. I have to try. I have to make her see that I’m still here, that I still care, even if neither of us really knows what that means right now.

As the sun starts to set, I make my way down to the beach where I’ve arranged for the dinner. The staff at the resort were more than happy to help, setting up a small table right by the water’s edge, with candles flickering softly in the evening breeze. It’s simple but perfect—just like I want it to be.

I stand by the table, the waves lapping gently at the shore, the sky painted in shades of orange and pink. It’s beautiful, peaceful, and yet I can’t shake the knot of anxiety in my chest. I keep glancing toward the path leading down to the beach, half-expecting to see her, half-expecting to be disappointed.

Then, just as I’m about to give up hope, I see her. Grace, walking slowly down the path, her arms wrapped around herself as if for comfort. She’s wearing a simple dress, her hair pulled back, and even from a distance, I can see the uncertainty in her eyes. She’s nervous, hesitant, but she’s here.

That’s enough for me.

I watch as she approaches, and when she finally reaches the table, she gives me a small, tentative smile. It’s not much, but it’s more than I was expecting, and it sends a flicker of hope through me.

“You came,” I say, my voice soft, trying not to let the relief show too much.

She nods, her gaze shifting from me to the beautifully set table. “Yeah… I wasn’t sure if I should, but… here I am.”

I gesture toward the table, trying to keep things light, to ease the tension that’s still hanging between us. “I’m glad you did. I thought we could use some time… just us, away from everything else.”

Grace hesitates for a moment, then slowly lowers herself into one of the chairs, still looking uncertain. “It’s beautiful, Logan. Really. You didn’t have to do this.”

“I wanted to,” I say, taking the seat across from her. “I just… I know things have been tense between us. I wanted to dosomething special. Something that might help us talk, really talk.”

She nods again, though her eyes remain downcast, focused on the table rather than on me. “I appreciate it,” she murmurs, her voice barely above a whisper.

We sit there in silence for a moment, the only sound the gentle crashing of the waves against the shore. It’s a comfortable silence, but it’s heavy, loaded with everything we’re not saying.

“I’m sorry,” I finally say, breaking the silence. “For everything. I know I haven’t been fair to you, and I’ve been sending mixed signals. I just want to figure this out. I don’t want to keep going like this—hurting each other.”

Grace looks up at me then, her eyes meeting mine for the first time since she sat down. There’s pain in her gaze, but there’s something else too—something that tells me she’s not as closed off as she’s trying to appear.

“I don’t either,” she admits quietly. “I’m scared, Logan. I don’t know what’s real and what’s not anymore.”

Her words hit me hard, and I feel the weight of them settle over me. She’s right. This whole situation has become so convoluted, so tangled in lies and half-truths, that it’s hard to see where the act ends and where our real feelings begin.

“We’ll figure it out,” I say, trying to sound more confident than I feel. “We don’t have to have all the answers tonight. Let’s at least try to find our way back to each other. We owe ourselves that much.”

She doesn’t respond right away, but she doesn’t pull away either. Instead, she reaches across the table, her fingers brushingagainst mine. It’s a small gesture, but it’s enough to send a jolt of warmth through me.

The warmth of Grace's fingers against mine is like a lifeline, grounding me in the moment and reminding me that there’s still a connection between us, fragile as it might be. It’s a small gesture, but it speaks volumes—she hasn’t given up on us, not yet.

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