Page 90 of Forever Fake

“Usually,” I agree. “But I had to call you. Turns out I don’t have many friends.”

“What a surprise.”

I ignore his snarky comment. Deep down, in his recently revitalized heart, I know he cares about me like I do him. We’ve always been there for each other and that’ll never change. Except this time he let me fall flat on my face. Or maybe that’s my own doing and not his fault.

“She tore my heart out with a single sentence.” I shove my phone in Roman’s face and he swats it away. “Who does that?”

“You don’t have a heart, remember?” he quips.

“But I do. Roman, I found it. And this… this crushed it.” I down another shot of bourbon and read the text reply from my wife.

Wife

Fine. I’ll sign the divorce papers.

That’s not the answer I expected when I sent that email. Her reply is cold, aloof. It makes me believe I could drown in this fucking bourbon bottle and she wouldn’t give a shit. Is she still angry with me? I’m at a loss as to what to do. This can’t be the end, can it?

Roman sighs. “Fine. Show me the email you sent to her. Let’s get to the bottom of this.”

I hand him my phone and he reads it, his face impassive. I go over the words again in my head, recalling each and every one of them.

Dear Ginevra,

I know you’ve been angry with me and I hope a month apart has given you the time and space to gain a clearer perspective about us. I know I’ve gained clarity.

I’ve come to the realization that blackmailing you into marrying me was wrong. I whole-heartedly apologize. To right this wrong, I think we must dissolve our agreement, including our marriage. I’ll have the divorce papers drawn up immediately.

I hope you take this in the manner it is intended. That we should both be free to make our own decisions moving forward.

Sincerely,

Blake Baron

“Christ, Baron, what the fuck were you thinking? This makes it sound like you can’t wait to get a divorce.”

My head snaps up. “What? No, that’s not what it says at all. See this line here? I’m being a better man and releasing her from our contract. I’m absolving her of her crime.”

“Who the fuck signs off a personal email withsincerely?”

“It’s courteous.”

“It’s impersonal.”

“I was trying to be succinct.”

“You managed that all right. This reads like a corporate email.” Roman curses. “And you’re shit at being abetter man.What the fuck does that even mean?”

I glare at him. “You know. You made yourself better for Sophia. I’m trying to do the same thing for Gin. I’m setting her free, so she can choose me if she wants me, because…” I swallow hard. Why is it suddenly so hot in here? “I think I love her.”

For a long moment, Roman simply stares at me. It’s unnerving. I haven’t been this shit-faced since college. What does he see?

“You’re serious.” His tone softens, “You really fell in love with Ginevra Pontrelli.”

It’s not a question, but I nod anyway. “Hopelessly. Irrevocably. Devastatingly?—”

“Okay, I get it.” He waves the server over. “Put all of this on my tab.”

“Are we going somewhere?” I lean further against his shoulder, slipping sideways on my bar stool.

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