Page 47 of Meet Stan

“I—I don’t know what to say.” I wasn't sure if I should be insulted or not.

“I’m just asking you, son.” His eyes squeezed shut. “No, I’m begging you, don’t break her heart. After what happened with her college boyfriend—”

“What happened with her college boyfriend?” I asked, feeling a great swell of guilt and responsibility weighing on my shoulders. “I’d never heard of a college boyfriend.”

“They were getting serious, kind of like the two of you. Then he flew off to Europe for a semester and hooked up with some Swedish tramp. It broke her heart. I don’t want to see her hurt like that again.”

He put out his cigar, then turned and headed back inside. I followed him after a moment, not sure of what to do or say.

I’d never considered that someone might get hurt because of my scheme. I didn’t want that to happen, but what could I do?

What could I possibly do to avert a tragic outcome?

Chapter Nineteen

Ivy

After weeks of essentially method acting, I suppose it was understandable that the lines between reality and fantasy had begun to blur.

It was so far past the point of no return it wasn’t even funny. I couldn’t even consciously deny my feelings for Stan any longer. The only thing keeping me from just confessing everything to him in a rush was my uncertainty. I couldn’t be sure he actually had real feelings for me.

I thought that he did. Every instinct in my body told me that he had real feelings even though it was a fake relationship. Yet, something held me back. I kept thinking the best thing to do would be to ride it out and just see where we stood after the fake relationship was over.

My way of dealing with it became not dealing with it. I discussed my ‘boyfriend’ with friends, my parents, my sisters, everyone. I began to forget during my day-to-day life we weren’t really a couple. I sent and received flirtatious texts, spent the night at his place more often than my own, and spent a great deal of time with him both on the job and off.

I woke up one day in my own apartment and wondered why I wasn’t at his. That was when I knew for certain I had a problem. It wasn’t something I could ignore any longer.

I decided the best thing to do would be to come clean to my most sensible sister, Isabelle. She’s also the only one I can count on to keep confidence. I haven’t told anyone she slept with my other sister’s husband before they were an item, so she owed me.

“Okay, back up,” she said with a shocked scowl. “So this total hunk you’ve been bringing around, the one you’re always hanging all over, and who’s always hanging all over you, isn’t really your boyfriend at all?”

“That’s exactly what I’m saying.”

“Bullshit.” Isabelle shook her head of curly dark hair. “No way are you guys faking it.”

I heaved a sigh.

“You see, that’s just it. You hit the nail right on the head. I’m not so sure that we’re faking it at all anymore. I think, at the least, I’m not faking it any longer.”

“I’ve seen the way he looks at you. Either he’s the second coming of Sir Lawrence Olivier, or he’s really got it bad for you.”

“I’m not sure. He’s always been a huge player before, his license plates spell out ‘single for life,’ for crying out loud.”

“People can change.” Isabelle sipped her tea and leaned back in her chair. “Here’s the thing, though. Even if you don’t know how he’s going to react, you have to tell him how you feel.”

My heart skipped a beat. The idea was equal parts thrilling and terrifying.

“I don’t know if I can do that.”

“You need to. If you don’t, this thing inside of you is just going to grow and fester until you do something colossally stupid.” Isabelle took my hand across the cafe table. “You know in your heart that I’m right. You need to tell Stan that your feelings are real.”

“What if he rejects me?”

“He might. But you’ll feel better in the long term regardless. You need to express these feelings and either explore or not explore them. But you need to express them regardless.”

“All right,” I said. “You’ve convinced me. I’m seeing him after work tomorrow evening. I’ll tell him then.”

She squeezed my hand before releasing it.

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