Page 68 of Friends Who Fake It

Ellie lifted her chin, anger and poise radiating from every line of her petite frame. “You’re going to have to.”

She was shivering though, and she desperately needed to get away from them.

“I’m sorry he hurt you.”

Ellie shook her head. “I’ll go now,” she said simply. “On one condition.”

The parents looked at each other, mistrust lining their faces. “What is it?”

“You’ll call and tell me how he is. I just… need to know he’s okay.”

The mother’s shoulders sagged. “Yes. Give Roberto your number. Thank you.” She looked at Xavier’s father. “I will go back to Arabella and our son.” She walked away, without a backwards glance at Ellie.

“Xavier has always had … an appetite,” the father began, his tone somewhat apologetic.

“Please don’t.” Ellie swept her eyes shut, her heart in pieces. “I know what this must look like to you. I know how it must seem. But I want to reserve the right to remember this weekend as what it felt like to me. As two people falling in love.” She sobbed then, lifting a hand to her cheek and dashing away the tears. “I know he’s getting married. You won’t hear from me again. I can promise you that. But at least let me hold onto the memory.”

Xavier’s father looked surprised, but he nodded slowly. “As you wish.”

Ellie stayed only so long as it took to leave her number and then she walked with knees that were shaking and a head held high, from the hospital ward, and out of Xavier’s life.

He’d been in a coma for a month.

On the day he’d come back to the living world, thin and disoriented, his mother had called Ellie. “It’s Maria. Salbatore.” And then, at Ellie’s silence. “Xavier’s mother.”

Ellie nodded, then made a strangled noise of acknowledgement, her breath held, her heart twisting, bracing for bad news.

“He’s awake.”

She’d been walking through Regents Park, and she’d sunk to the grass, uncaring that it was wet beneath her bottom. Tears sparkled on her lashes. “How is he?” The question was hoarse.

“He’s… He will have a long recovery,” Maria said slowly. “But Arabella is by his side constantly. She vows he will be standing at their wedding day.”

Ellie sobbed, fresh hurts lashing pains that were already so tender. “I’m… glad he has her.”

Silence fell, and then, “He hasn’t contacted you?”

“No.” Ellie bit the word out, her heart breaking.

His mother sighed. “He made a mistake, and I am sorry for that. Arabella is the only person who makes him happy, now. He loves her, Elizabeth. I know that if he could take back what happened with you, he would. I need you to promise me you’llnevercontact him, or me, ever again.”

Ellie’s chest was shredded by the request. It burned her alive. But she nodded, and then cleared her throat. “It’s over,” she said stiffly, her soul withering with the acknowledgement of such finality. “It didn’t mean anything.”

“Good. You’re right. Howcouldit have meant anything when he’s so happy with Bella? Already talking about the family they’ll have and where they’ll settle…”

And Ellie had disconnected the call as swiftly as she could. That was the end of it.

He was marrying Arabella, and planning to start a family with her. But at least he was alive – and that was some comfort for her miserable heart.

Two months later, she discovered her pregnancy.

Two awful months and then her world had fallen further apart, when her parents – conservative to a fault – had refused to support her.

Had refused to allow her to live with them when she was carrying an illegitimate baby.

“Who is the father?” They’d railed at her, again and again, and she’d said nothing.

Because she couldn’t.