Page 69 of Fauxmance in the City

“I know what you meant. And I’m glad too.” Max crosses his arms over his chest. “What about Sam? Will you be celebrating getting your jobs back? Just the two of you?”

“That’s over,” I say.

Natalie shakes her head as if I’m an idiot. “Sam’s head over heels in love with you. He’s just mad."

“Natalie’s right.” Max smiles, a mischievous twinkle in his eyes. “Sam’s always staring at your ass.”

“Ha,” I guffaw, but my heart flutters. “He’s made it clear he doesn’t want my ass anymore.”

“Don’t sell yourself short. Anything can happen. Just look at me. I got my memory back right on cue,” Max jokes.

I laugh.

“Now…” Max stands and brushes off his hands. “I better see a man about a dog. Do you have the info for the shelter?”

“It’s in Westchester. I have the details somewhere,” I say, searching through my emails on my phone.

“Thanks. I’m ordering a car now.”

“It’s in an email. I’ll send it to you,” I say.

“Mind if I share a ride?” Natalie asks Max.

“Not at all. If you wanna come to the shelter, we can play up the whole emotional dog thing with your injuries.”

Natalie giggles and steps in line with Max.

“Do you want to join?” Max asks, holding the door open. “It might take your mind off him.”

“No,” I sigh. “I’m afraid nothing will ever take my mind off Sam.”

nineteen

The city rushes by from the back of the taxi where I ride to my apartment. I want to resolve things with Sam but he’s not responding to any of my messages or calls. I’m not expecting big declarations, but I need to apologize and assure him his job is secure and fill him in on what happened with Gillian.

Deciding to quit on my own and begin a new chapter with Natalie is huge, and I always share my big news with Sam. I call him again, but it goes straight to voice mail.

I rest my chin in my hand and stare out at the first white flakes melting into the dark gray sidewalks. My phone beeps, but it’s Patrick.

I send him a quick text. False alarm. Jobs are all still intact.

Immediately, I receive a text back. I hate you.

I smile, knowing he means the opposite. I hope.

The tightness in my muscles that has accompanied me since I started this sham loosens—but there’s a different pulling in my gut.

At my apartment, I shove the front door open and dump my weekender bag with my wardrobe items on the small bench, but it topples to the floor, taking all the items it was stacked on top of with it. The contents spill at my feet and out into the hallway through the open door. I crawl around, scooping the items back inside. A wave of sadness squeezes my ribs and I whimper, holding it back. After everything, what breaks me is the absence of Sam in my life.

Everything I feared has come true. I gave myself to Sam, and now I’m that girl—another castoff, yearning for something she never had in the first place.

Except it’s my fault, not his. I did this.

Unable to hold the sorrow in, it erupts out of me, and I grab the flaps of my long coat and press them into my mouth, screaming into its velvety fabric.

A floorboard creaks. I drop the material, my gaze landing on Sam, who’s in the hallway by my open door. We stare at each other, and the silence crushes me more than words could.

“What are you doing here?” I push up, wiping at my wet cheeks.

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