Page 11 of The Make-Believe Marriage

“Tom is on his way. Can I get you something to drink? Cup of coffee,” I say before she can ask me more questions I don’t know how to answer.

“Coffee would be great. So you and my brother?” She follows me into the kitchen and takes the cup I hand her.

“We’re roommates. I used to live next door and needed a place to stay. He was looking for someone to help out. You know, bills and stuff.” I read somewhere that the most convincing lies are those that stick as close to the truth as possible.

“You’re his roommate? Right.” Stephanie takes a seat on a bar stool, and I stay on the other side of the counter. “I’m not buying it. Tom doesn’t need help to pay the mortgage on this place. If he even took one out.”

“I don’t know the full story, but I believe he’d planned to move in here with his future wife. The place is kinda big for one person.” I pour myself another cup of coffee, not that I need the caffeine. The adrenaline pumping through my system is stimulant enough.

“Right. That was something else. Canceling everything the night before the wedding?” Stephanie shakes her head.

“The night before?” The words are out of my mouth before I realize what I’ve said.

“He didn’t tell you? I guess he wouldn’t share that with a roommate. Forget I said anything.” Stephanie sets her cup down and studies me carefully. “Tell me about yourself, Krysten. You used to live next door?”

We chat, and I somehow manage to hide the fact that I’m here because I’m currently unemployed and would otherwise be homeless. Instead, we talk about my experience in office management, my friend Lilly and the reason I had to move, and finally the Christmas decorations when Tom walks in the door.

“Tom, there you are. Your so-called roommate kept me entertained. She has an eye for design, I give her that. This place needed a female touch.” Stephanie rises and embraces her brother, leaving a lipstick smudge on his cheek that bothers me.

“Krysten is my roommate. Nothing more. She needed a place to stay. I was looking for a renter. I don’t know what you’re trying to insinuate.” Tom steps into the kitchen, taking a position beside me.

Stephanie looks at each of us in turn. “Right. You just happen to find an attractive young woman to share your home with. How’d she talk you into this, and how much rent is she paying you? “

“That’s none of your business. And I don’t appreciate you insinuating that there’s anything going on between us. Because there isn’t.” Tom glares at his sister.

I’m stunned he’s standing there, verbally fighting for my honor. A knight in shining armor, coming to my rescue. Not that I need him to do that.

“I’ll leave the two of you to talk.” I walk upstairs to ponder what I’ve learned this morning. Tom doesn’t seem to be interested in making this anything more than what it is. Friends helping each other out. And that he’d come much closerto getting married than he’d let on when we’d talked before. Pretending he’d gone through with the wedding made a little more sense, but I’m more confused than ever.

I look up when I hear a soft knock on my door.

“You can come out now. She’s gone,” Tom says.

“You didn’t have to get rid of her on my account. She’s your sister, and we’re just roommates,” I reply when I open the door.

“I think we’ve gone past roommates, and whatever is or isn’t going on between us is none of her business.” He steps back and leans against the wall.

“That’s what you told her?” I ask. The man keeps throwing me for loops. I can’t get a read on him and what he may be feeling for me.

“Pretty much. That and I told her I’ll see her on Christmas Day at my parents’ house. She shouldn’t come back here between now and then.” He smiles. I’m sure it’s meant to be reassuring, but all it does is give me butterflies.

“Can I ask you a question?” I ask later that night over dinner. Tom fixed salmon and these tiny herbed potatoes that are my new favorite dish ever.

“Shoot. I’m an open book.” He raises his glass and takes a sip of water.

“Stephanie mentioned you called off the wedding the night before...”

“My sister is a blabbermouth,” he mutters under his breath.

“Then it’s true?” I ask when he doesn’t continue.

Tom keeps his eyes on his plate, shredding the salmon into tiny bits. “Yes, but it isn’t something I want to talk about.”

I get the message. His almost marriage is something he’s working through, and whatever this thing between us may have been, it’s never going to be anything other than what it is right now. A make-believe marriage with an expiration date that’s about to be up.

Chapter 6

Tom

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