Page 27 of Just My Fake Husband

“I’m not moving to Denver.”

“At my place here in Longdale. With me.”

“I thought that house was a temporary situation.”

“I asked my friend and his wife about the possibility of a long-term arrangement. They said they’d been looking for someone to house sit. They were surprised when I told them I might be staying in Longdale.”

“You told them this even before I agreed?”

“I was confident something would turn out.”

“There’s no reason I’d have to actually live with you there, though. And what are we going to tell people to convince them this is real. That we dated in secret and are now . . . getting married?”

I get why this is hard for her to say. It’s insane. I ignore the part about her thinking she won’t have to live with me and instead address the other part.

“Well, people keep their dating lives under wraps all the time. We can just say that we wanted to keep it to ourselves in the early stages. That makes sense. And as to why we’d be getting married so fast, we can just tell everyone to mind their own business.”

“No. You have to approach this from a PR perspective, remember? You know, the whole reason you came to me in the first place?”

“Alright, alright. Well, you’ve sold the house, so we can just tell everyone that rather than go through the process of trying to find another place, you wanted to just move in with me. It makes practical sense.”

After a long pause, she quirks an eyebrow. “You sure I’m the one and only person you asked to do this? Because if you had asked others, that could complicate things if they were to ever talk about it publicly.”

“I promise. You’re my one and only.” I stare at her, and she stares back, like we’re both trying to see inside the depths of one another’s souls.

Finally, “So what are you going to do now?” she asks.

I look around the room at the moving boxes in every corner. “We have to live together. You don’t have any other living arrangements, for one thing, and we have to sell this marriage. My dad will be looking for anything suspicious. If we’re not living together? Forget about it.”

She holds up both hands in surrender. “This is insane. Literally insane.” She starts to pace. “I should have just asked Sebastian for a raise. My parents are actually turning over in their graves right now.” She gestures wildly. “Like rolling overand over again.” She covers her face with her hands. “Their poor remains.”

I mask a laugh with a cough. “You’re spiraling, River.”

She drops her hands. “Well, wouldn’t you be?”

“I guess if I were in your position, I would.” When she doesn’t say anything, I take a deep, slow breath and then say, “Can I ask what changed your mind?”

“Oh, you know. My sister was lost! And her dog was lost. And I couldn’t be here.” She hugs herself around her middle. “I can’t be here twenty-four-seven. And she’s not safe here, alone. And she’s learning rap.” Her eyes blaze.

This time I can’t contain my laugh. “There are worse things.”

“I know! And they’re coming, too, if I can’t get a handle on everything. I’ve supported us for a long time but we’re moving. I’m selling the house because I can’t make everything work here. I can’t provide. I’m already grieving the house, and Skye will be, too, when she eventually understands she will never come back here. I’ve tried to explain it to her. But when it sinks in? I don’t know what I’m going to do.” Her eyes fill with tears, and she dashes at them angrily. “This whole thing is so stupid. What am I doing? I feel like I’m getting in bed with the devil.”

“Gee, thanks.”

“You’re not the devil.” She groans and piles her blonde hair on top of her head, twisting it up into a bun shape again. “I just feel trapped. I don’t know what else to do.” She lets her hair drop. “There is nothing else, and I hate that feeling.”

I ease closer to her, but I don’t touch her. “You don’t have to do this. I don’t feel right trapping you into this against your will.”

“You’re not. I’m an adult making my own decision.”

The urge to pull her into a hug is almost overpowering. But I can’t. “I think if you weren’t freaking out about this, there’d be something wrong with you.”

“You’re not freaking out. Does that mean there’s something wrong with you?”

“Well, probably. And I will freak out eventually. This is . . . crazy. But I have to do this. For my family. For my dad.”

“Looks like we’re both doing this for the people we love.”

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