Page 57 of Fake Engaged to the Enemy

Then she starts the process of moving a display case that must weigh a hundred pounds. She maneuvers it as easily as if it were only twenty.

I watch her in amazement for a while before setting up at the welcome desk. I take my seat and settle into the work I’d left off yesterday.

Though I know exactly what I want to do, I’m slow today. I’m distracted by everything.

Most of all, I’m distracted by yesterday.

I hadn’t planned to stop at George’s place.

As I was passing, though, I caught a glimpse of him sitting on the porch.

I can see him just as well now as I did then.

His strawberry-blond hair gleams boldly in the sun. It brings out the red, making him look like a beacon.

His muscular frame is too big for the wicker chair, but, seeing him sitting there, he looked so perfect.

Then as I came up the stairs, his dimples deepened with his grin.

Before I knew it, I was lost in his green eyes.

My stomach knots as I think of the words he said.I love you.

Why did he have to say that? Why?

There was a time when I would have been thrilled to hear him say that.

There was a time when sitting in rocking chairs as we grew old together was all I wanted.

But there are too many reasons why that’s impossible now.

For one thing, I don’t want to live in Sandburrow… right? And even if I did, I have no career here.

So without a career, I ought to at least cook and clean. But I can’t do that either.

I’d be nothing but a burden on him.

A knot tightens in the pit of my stomach.

George might think he loves me, but that’s only because he doesn’t really know me.

It’s just like how he was talking about me and Katherina. He wouldn’t say those nice things if he knew how much internal resentment I carry around.

Once he learns who I really am inside, he won’t love me.

My fingers fly over the keyboard, typing up today’s social media posts.

A heavy sigh escapes me.

Is it really that I don’t want to be loved, and risk the pain when that love goes away?

Or is it that I feel like I don’t deserve to be loved in the first place?

The bells above the door chime, announcing a guest.

I put a smile on my face as I look up. To my surprise, it’s Katherina. Her shoulders hunch inward and her eyes are red.

Concern sweeps through me. “What’s wrong?”

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