Page 20 of Fake Engaged to the Enemy

But I still somehow think that she’s telling me the truth about it not being an affair, either.

Not in the ‘technically it wasn’t an affair’ sort of way but in a genuine way.

I let out a heavy sigh. “It looks like you.”

“I know.”

She looks as though she’s used to facing the world on her own.

“But I don’t think you’re a liar.” I hand her phone back to her.

She gives me a strange look. “So… you believe me?”

“Are you going to tell me what’s really happening?”

“No. It’s too humiliating.”

Now just what does that mean?

“Let’s get some coffee and let me think about this,” I offer.

Her expression shifts ever so slightly like she wasn’t expecting that. But she nods.

I lead the way to the kitchen and reach for the coffee pot.

“I used to have a one-cup machine,” I say absently over my shoulder. “It was perfect for just me. But then my mom got me this because it’s ‘friendlier’ to make coffee for everyone. I keep my old one in the cupboard, but I pull this one out whenever they’re visiting…”

“Sounds to me like you need to be firmer with your parents,” Catherine says listlessly.

I shrug. “Maybe.”

As the coffee brews, I lean my palms against the counter.

Sandburrow will not react kindly to this thing with Catherine and Crimson.

They won’t care what the real story is. This is far too interesting.

Just imagine, Lynn Hart’s granddaughter.

I can almost hear their voices in my head.

I always knew that Hart girl was no good.

What do you expect from a girl who only visits her poor grandmother once a year?

I let out a heavy breath. It’s not just Catherine that will face their delighted gossip. It’ll hurt Lynn, too.

Part of me wants to ask Catherine what she’ll tell her grandmother. Will it be the truth or something else?

I have a feeling she’ll just give me the same answer as before—that she isn’t going to tell me anything.

“George. If you want more time to think about it… or if you want to just call it off, I understand. But I should get back home. I should warn Grandma before anyone can…” Catherine’s voice trails off, trembling.

That’s enough for me.

“I don’t need more time,” I tell her.

The coffee is finished brewing. I pour us both a mug as I continue.

---