Page 9 of My Fake Neighbor's Valentine

When I make it back to my apartment, Mom is cooking in my kitchen.

“Welcome back. Now sit on that stool and start explaining.” My mom points at one of my kitchen island stool before turning to keep stirring theasopaoshe is cooking on my stove.

“What do you want to know?”

“How long, exactly you two been dating?”

I hum at loud as if I’m trying to recall the date. I’m really thinking about what we told Maggie. “Almost 13 months to the dot,” I say, remembering that it was also mid to late January when I brought up the possibility of being friends with benefits after we had sex, when we were both a little too drunk to stop.

“And you never thought to mention it to me during an entire year? Not even during the holidays?”

“I already told you why. While some people think a year is enough to know, I feel we are still in the honeymoon phase. Everything feels great, but who knows when the other shoe is going to drop.”

“Honey, a year is time enough to clue your family and friends that you are in, what I hope is a committed relationship. Telling people doesn’t mean that is final or that your are marrying him.”

“Really, mom? Are you sure you have not already fantasized about my wedding with Seth?”

“Gracie, you are my only child who is still unmarried. Of course, I’m gonna constantly daydream about your wedding. That will only stop when you actually get married. I understand if you are not sure he is the one. You also have to understand your dad and I aren’t getting younger.”

I sigh. That might be one of the many problems I’m having. I can see myself marrying Seth, but I know our arrangement is not strings, and no feelings attached. Here I am lying to my mom and making him pretend to be my boyfriend of over a year. She saw I have his contact number under the name of boyfriend. I can’t imagine how awkward it would be to explain the real detail of my relationship with Seth. Introducing him as my boyfriend sounds like a much better idea compare to ‘oh hey he is just a friend I have sex often.’

While I have a few male friends, I could ask to pretend with me; I don’t feel comfortable with them touching and kissing me the same way I’m with Seth. I also can accept that a tiny part ofme is taking this chance to live in a fantasy for a little bit of time where Seth is my boyfriend and I’m free to express the feelings I keep bottling down. I know it’s very selfish of me, but it is just a tiny lie we are telling whenever Maggie or Mom are here.

“Not pressure at all, but maybe a little?” I chuckle.

“No pressure, but don’t be single for too long. You’ll eventually feel you don’t want company and might miss on great love. You know I don’t believe a woman needs a man to live, but when you find the right person, life gets better.”

“I know. I just don’t want to rush into things.”

Mom nods as she slides a bowl steaming with mouthwateringasopao. The stew tastes hearty; the chicken is so tender it falls apart easily. The rice is so soft it feels extremely soothing to my stomach, whose been suffering all the effects of my work stress. “After we eat, let’s go shopping. You have a fancy dinner and you need something to wear.”

“I have plenty of clothes to wear, mom.”

“Honey, I looked at your wardrobe and nothing yells ‘I’m THE valentine of the CEO of this company’. Hurry and eat so we can get you a dress and maybe some shoes.”

I shake my head and cut into the chicken. I moan out loud at how juicy it is.

I’m getting out of the seventh dress when my phone rings. I shake my head at the contact name. It’s like my subconsciousdoesn’t want me to change it from boyfriend to Seth.

“Hello,” I answer.

“Hey, where are you? I didn’t see your car when I parked.”

“I’m at the mall with Mom. She insists on coming to shop for a dress and shoes for your company’s dinner.”

“Do you want me to accompany you both? I can carry the shopping bags.” I smile.

“Who are you talking with and why are taking so long?” My mom’s voice reaches me.

“Seth is calling asking where we are,” I say.

“Tell him to join us for dinner and present himself properly.”

“Did you catch that?”

“Yes, I did. I’m gonna make a reservation and send you the details through text. I’ll see you soon,” Seth says before hanging up.

Ten minutes later, my phone ding with a text message from Seth as I buy a beautiful burgundy knee length velvet dress. Mom and I search for dainty looking heels with the thirty minutes we have left before the dinner reservation.

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