Page 104 of Fake Married to the Grumps

And who am I to even dream of her love? I've never been good enough, never measured up to the impossible standards set before me. Every disapproving glance, every cutting remark, they're all etched into my memory, a constant reminder of my own inadequacy.

How can I expect Marissa to love me when even my own parents couldn't?

Some of my father's friends are watching us from across the room, their eyes alight with curiosity, probably looking for something to gossip about. Without missing a beat, I wrap my arms around Marissa's waist and pull her close, a tender smile playing at the corners of my lips as I lean in to brush a soft kiss against her cheek.

Marissa's eyes widen in surprise at my sudden exhibit of affection, but she recovers quickly, her cheeks flushing pink as she leans into my touch. I feel a warmth fluttering in my chest at the intense look in her eyes.

Even though I should be on edge, I'm so much at peace because Marissa is here with me. She makes everything brighter and more colorful, and my eyes are on her because she's the most fascinating woman here, and I can't seem to tear my eyes away from such a pleasing sight.

But before we can linger in the moment, my father interrupts us, his voice cutting through the din of conversation like a sharp blade. "Bryce, my boy, there you are," he says, his tone warm but businesslike. "I wanted to congratulate you and Marissa on your recent marriage."

I force a smile onto my face as I shake my father's hand, my stomach churning with unease at the mention of our supposed marriage. "Thank you, Dad," I say, my voice tight with forced cheerfulness. "And congratulations on your retirement."

"You know, Bryce, your mother and I are so proud of you," he says, his voice tinged with emotion. "Seeing you succeed in your acting career, living out your dreams ... it's everything we could have hoped for you."

I manage another smile. There’s too much pain between us, too many sharp edges. Some chasms are too wide to cross.

"Although," my father continues, a hint of regret creeping into his tone,

"I can't help but wonder sometimes what it would have been like if you had taken over the company. But I understand now that it was never your path, never your dream."

The words hit me like a punch to the gut, the air rushing out of my lungs in a sudden, painful exhale. Red-hot anger surges through my veins—the familiar rage that's always simmering just beneath the surface, waiting for the slightest provocation to boil over.

"My path?" I spit out, my voice shaking with barely contained fury. "My dream? You never cared about my dreams, Dad. All you ever wanted was for me to follow in your footsteps, to be the perfect son you could mold in your own image."

My father's shoulders slump in defeat. "You're misunderstanding me. I just want you to be happy, son. That's all I've ever wanted."

But I'm not listening anymore. I turn on my heel and storm out of the room, my heart thumping in my chest as I make my way towards the exit. I can't be here anymore. I can't pretend to be someone I'm not just to please my family.

I storm out onto the balcony, the cool night air washing over me like a soothing balm as I try to calm the storm raging inside me.

"Bryce, wait!" Marissa's voice calls out behind me, her footsteps echoing against the tiled floor as she rushes after me.

I come to a halt, my chest heaving with exertion as I turn to face her. "What?" I snap, my voice sharp.

She halts before me, eyes wide and shimmering with worry in the moonlight. "He doesn't mean it, you know. Your father." Her voice softens, almost pleading. "Disapproving of you ... that's not what this is. He just ..." She shakes her head, struggling for the right words. "He has a hard time showing how he really feels."

I shake my head, a bitter laugh escaping my lips. "My father has always seen me as a failure because I chose a different path. I know what he meant."

"But Bryce, you're not a failure," she says, her voice filled with conviction. "You're one of the most talented actors I've ever met, and you've worked so hard to get where you are."

A rush of emotions ripples through me, making my voice come out thick and strained. "Thank you. But it's not just about my career; it's about who I am as a person."

Marissa's warm hand envelops mine, sending an electric tingle racing up my arm and down my spine. "I know, and you're not defined by what anyone thinks of you," she says, her voice resonating with conviction. "You are so much more than the sum of all their expectations, more than the roles you play on screen or the headlines they write about you."

She steps in closer, her eyes locked on mine. "You're defined by the strength it took to chart your own path, by the passion you pour into everything you do, and by the kindness I've seen you show when you think nobody is watching," she continues, her words painting a picture of me that feels both foreign and achingly familiar. "And I believe in that person, even when you're struggling to believe in yourself. You don't need anyone's approval to validate your worth."

I swallow against the growing lump in my throat, blinking rapidly to hold back the hot tears threatening to spill from my eyes.

I take a deep breath, steeling myself as I prepare to share a part of myself with her that I've kept hidden for so long. "There's something else," I say, my voice trembling with emotion. "Something I've never told you before."

Her gaze locks on mine as she waits for me to continue. "What is it?"

"The day I left," I say finally, my voice barely audible over the roar of the wind, "my father told me that if I didn't give up my dreams of acting, he'd not only disown me but also destroy any chance I might have at a career. He had the influence, he said, to make sure no one in the industry would give me a chance."

Marissa's eyes reflect the shock of my confession, her hand tightening around mine. "Bryce ..."

"I was devastated." My voice is nearly a whisper now. "To him, it was about keeping the family name strong, making sure Alston Enterprises was my future. But to me, it felt like ... like he was willing to ruin his own son for the sake of his vision of a legacy. That's when I realized I had to leave. "

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