Page 70 of The Fake Play

“Dude, this sucks,” Michael says, casting a glance out on the parking lot. He glares at the last paparazzo until the bastard finally leaves. “It sounds like she needs some space. Keke’s not good with emotions, if you haven’t noticed.”

“I don’t want to lose her,” I tell him, desperation creeping into my voice. “I thought this would bring us closer, help us figure things out together. I need her to know I’m serious about this.”

“Maybe it’s too soon,” he suggests, a hint of sympathy in his tone. “You guys have a lot going on right now. Proposing in the middle of all of it may have felt like a lot to her. Keke likes predictability. Blindsiding her with a proposal might have been the wrong play.”

“I thought it would show her I’m committed, that I want to be there for her and the baby. I want to prove that I’ve changed, really changed.”

“You are going to have to show her with your actions, Luke. Actions speak louder than words. A proposal is just a symbol, so you need to prove you’ve truly changed. And right now, she needs to know you’re in this for the long haul. And she has to have the space to figure out if she even wants that from you.”

His words sting, even if I agree with them. She needs to be able to sort out whether she wants me as much as I want her. The thought of her choosing a different path terrifies me. I want a life with Keke.

I want her to say yes because she wants me, because she chooses me. And I couldn’t force that the moment I proposed. She has to figure this out for herself.

I swallow that bitter pill. “I can do that. I’ll show her. I just need to find her first.”

I can’t let this moment destroy our relationship. I have to find Keke and make her understand that I’m not going anywhere. She is my future, and I need her to see that.

Chapter 30

Keke

As the ride-share car navigates through the busy streets, I stare out the window, the city lights blurring into a kaleidoscope of colors that reflect the chaos swirling inside me. I can hardly process what just happened.

Luke proposed.

My mind keeps replaying the moment, the shock in my chest transforming into a heavy weight that threatens to suffocate me. How could he think that was going to make anything better?

I hate the way I’m feeling.

My thoughts race as I dial Whitney's number, my heart pounding against my ribs.

“Hey, Keke! How are you holding up?”

“I’m not,” I admit, my voice shaking as I press the phone to my ear. “I just… everything’s such a mess. I don’t even know how to begin to explain it.”

“Just come over,” she says gently. “We can talk.”

I’m grateful for the invitation. I need to talk to someone who understands, someone who won’t judge me for my mistakes.

When I arrive at Whitney’s apartment, she welcomes me with a warm smile. “Come in, come in,” she urges, usheringme through the door. “You look like you’ve been through the wringer.”

“Thanks,” I mumble, kicking off my shoes and sinking into the softness of her couch. Her place is gorgeous, all ivory and black. Classic, elegant. All except for the signed band posters framed on the walls. They look like they’re from another life.

“Want something to drink?” she asks, disappearing into the kitchen.

I wave her off, not in the mood for anything. “I just want to figure this out. I can’t believe he thought a proposal would fix everything.”

She peeks her head out of the kitchen. “Luke proposed?”

“Yeah.”

“Ugh, that boy…” She vanishes again, only to reappear with a steaming mug of herbal tea in hand, setting it down in front of me before plopping gracelessly onto a chair. “This might be eight percent my fault.”

“What? How?”

“When I was talking to him earlier, somehow, the idea of marriage got brought up?—”

“What?”

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