Page 68 of How To Fake A Fiancé

I try to push away when Sofia grips me tighter. “As a kid, I thought if I loved Mom’s new boyfriends as I did you and Mom, they wouldn’t leave. And when they left, I thought I was the reason why.”

I fight back against the tears that threaten to fill my eyes as I shake my head fiercely. “No. You were never the problem. You did nothing wrong.”

She fights back tears as well. “And you didn’t, either. For a while, I was angry at Mom, too.”

“Was? Are you not still?” I’m taken aback. What made her stop? “After everything, how aren’t you angry at her anymore?”

“For a long time, all I could see was my pain. But then I met Aaron. And he helped me see I didn’t have to let my past dictate my future. That I could just…let go and leave everything behind. We’re all hurting, Kami. Even Mom. I don’t have it in me to demonize someone who just wanted to make the pain go away. And I don’t think you should either.”

Yet those memories are forever engraved into my mind. “That’s still not an excuse for what happened.”

“No, It’s not. I’m choosing to forgive, but that doesn’t mean I will forget.”

No one ever said I didn’t have to carry the past on my shoulders. In my effort to not end up like Mom, have I only isolated myself? I could have learned to heal. Reached out to my family instead of retreating. But I chose self-destructive behavior and resentment.

If she can move on, why can’t I?

Chapter Twenty-Two

Wednesday evening, November 23

Hernandez Home

Abilene, TX

Kami

For the rest of Tuesday, and most of the day Wednesday, I contemplate what to do.

Because of my conversation with Sophie, I’ve been looking at things differently. Watching John and Mom interact, and I mean really watching them, is eye-opening. His affection and attention to her are genuine and put a smile on my face.

If Mom is happy, then I should be happy, too.

If I’ve been wrong about Mom’s decisions, could it be that I’ve been wrong about other things, too? I thought Aaron was some jerk who my sister rushed into elopement with. But hearing that he’s been a positive influence on her, I have a newfound respect for him.

Could Ian be that person for me?

All day Wednesday, I decide to clean around the house. I clean my room from top to bottom, take out the trash, and start a load of laundry. At half-past three, I look up and realize I don’t know where Ian is. Last time I saw him was at lunch over two hours ago.

“Hey, Mom,” I call out to her, “do you know where Ian is?”

“He’s outside with John working on the old Cadillac.” She points to the front door.

“Really?” Walking to one of the front windows, I look out to find Ian and John talking over the popped hood of the Cadillac. Huh, interesting.

He never said anything about working on cars before.

I continue to see Ian throughout the day, fixing things here and there. Since when is he a handyman? Each time I catch a glimpse of him, he’s doing something to help around the house. He knows he doesn’t have to, so why is he? Is he trying to prove something? Does he have something to hide?

He’s done, and continues to do, so much for me that I worry it’s too good to be true. I want to believe Ian, that I matter to him, yet I can’t let go of the memory of a man who once told me the same thing. A man that convinced me he loved me as his own kid. I thought that man to be perfect like I’m thinking Ian is now. There is nothing stopping Ian from walking out. It’s only a matter of time before the other shoe drops.

Panic rises within me. Why did I let him get inside my head and possibly my heart? This was never supposed to happen.

I need to get rid of him. I can’t go through that emotional turmoil again. But how?

“I’ll give him what he wants,” I mutter to myself.

I want you.I remember him telling me those words the day my mom called him, thinking he was my boyfriend. The very phone call that put our agreement in motion.

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