Page 44 of The White Picket Fence

She patted his chest. “I had no self-confidence then, Tino. I pretended. I was always pretending. I pretended my home life was happy, that I had it together. That I was up and bubbly and a cheerleader and all the things I was supposed to be. I thought if I had to pretend for another second that I’d crack into pieces.”

He held his tongue for a long moment, trying to get his words organized. Because this was a critical moment and he didn’t want to fuck it up. “Were you pretending with me? When you said you loved me?”

“No. That was maybe the only honest thing I did say.”

“You realize we were all pretending, right?”

She lifted her head to stare at him. “What?”

“I was self-conscious, too. I was Tino, but you were Charlotte. Charlie. Everyone wanted to be with you and I wondered why you’d chosen me. But we were teenagers. We all pretended to some extent.”

“I don’t think it’s the same.”

“Maybe not. And you felt how you felt. I just wish you’d told me.”

“I didn’t know how. And I hated myself for that, too.”

He ran a hand over her hair, soothing her and himself, too. “I didn’t know.”

“I didn’t want you to. I’d pretended for so long that telling you was too terrifying. I didn’t want to hurt you, but I did anyway.”

“You did,” he agreed. “But I lived. So did you.”

“I was stupid.”

“You were eighteen. We were all a little stupid.”

“I figured you’d meet someone else and get your house with a picket fence and meatloaf on Wednesdays.”

“I didn’t. No one was you.”

She inhaled sharply. “Tino.”

“Shh. It’s okay. We’re here now.”

“I’m broken now.”

No. He wasn’t going to let her say that about herself. “You’re stronger now. Do you still pretend?”

“Sometimes. Every time I went to a restaurant in disguise I was pretending, but that was...fun.”

“What about with your ex? Did you pretend with him?”

She said nothing for several hard beats of his heart. Then she made a thoughtful noise that vibrated against his skin. “No. When he wanted me to be a quiet wife who let him cheat, I left him.”

“Good. Do you still feel like a dinghy in anyone’s wake?”

“Not recently.”

“Good.”

“Do you pretend?” she asked.

“Yes.” The word snapped out of his mouth before he could stop it.

“With me?”

“Yes,” he said more gently. “I’ve pretended that we were just friends and I don’t think that’s true. At least I don’t want it to be. But I didn’t want to frighten you off, and if we’re being totally honest here, I didn’t want to risk my heart with you again.”

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