Page 38 of Friends Who Fake It

“I should have told you.”

She waited, silence stretching between them, as Francesco appeared to choose his words with care. “His marriage is over.”

“What?” she hissed, slopping wine onto the tiles as she gestured her surprise with her hands. “But…”

“But what?”

“They’ve been together ages. I was at their wedding. I thought—they seemed?—,”

“It came as a surprise to all of us,” Francesco admitted. “She is not my favourite person, but I always presumed she loved Raf and made him happy.”

“And she doesn’t?”

He considered that a long time, and then answered, simply, “No.”

“What happened?”

“I won’t go into that.”

And even though he didn’t move a single bit, it felt as though his hands were pressing to her chest, physically pushing her away. She blinked rapidly, ignoring the feeling of acid wash in her throat.

They were friends. They’d been friends a long time. But that didn’t entitle her to know all his secrets, nor his brother’s. This wasn’t real, and their friendship wasn’t one that included long heart to heart talks and deep and meaningful revelations. Why would she be so upset that he hadn’t told her this?

Because it left their ruse exposed, she realized. He’d made it harder to sell the idea of them as a couple.

“That’s your prerogative,” she said with a lift of one shoulder. “But just so you know, it makes it seem like something’s off with us.”

He glanced towards the table, his features held tight. “They love you.”

She rolled her eyes. “I’ve known your family a long time. They accept me. But there’s no way they’re going to buy me as your girlfriend now.”

“They’ll buy this for what it is: short term and casual, not the kind of situation in which we bare our souls to one another,” he corrected, turning back to face her. “And given my track record, it will not surprise anyone to know that’s all this is.”

Her heart gave a little stutter and whimper. She looked away. Herheartwasn’t involved. The closest she’d ever come to falling in love with someone was Tom, and even that she now saw for what it was. Being in a relationship with him had been safe. It hadn’t threatened her heart at all, because he’d never really had it.

“Okay, fine,” she said, like it didn’t matter at all. “It’s your family, your choice.”

He nodded once, but then grimaced. “I’m sorry you felt blindsided.”

She shook her head, dismissing his apology and the affect it had on her. “Is Raf okay?”

“Not right now, no. But he will be.”

“You’re sure?”

He shook his head. “He has to be.”

Willow wanted to help. She wanted to ask Francesco for more details, but she knew he wouldn’t share them. There were two people working to keep this relationship contained, and that included holding secrets close to the chest.

“Is there anything else I should know? Anything that’s likely to come up over the weekend?”

He dragged a hand through his hair. “Not that I’m aware of.” His eyes latched to hers. “Look, I’m sorry about Raf. I probably should have flagged it with you. It’s just, all kind of fucked up, and he asked me not to tell anyone. I don’t even think anyone here knows the full story.”

She bit into her lip, genuinely worried for Francesco’s brother now.

“And I need him to know he can trust me. If I tell the family, and they go running over to him…”

“Yeah, okay,” she said, nodding, feeling a little ashamed of how much she’d put her own feelings ahead of Raf’s.

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