Page 4 of Faking It with My Bossy Ex

“What? Why?” She's shaking now. “Did I do something wrong?”

“No, it's not you. It's…” I can barely get the lie out. “I don't think I'm in love with you anymore.”

The lie burns like acid on my tongue. I watch her face crumple, disbelief and agony warring in her eyes. It takes everything in me not to gather her in my arms and confess the truth.

But I can’t tell her the truth. All I can do is let her go and chase her dream.

“But…but three days ago, you said—”

“I know what I said,” I cut her off. Hating myself. “I've been thinking about this. I got bored. Maybe there's someone else out there who's better for me.”

“Bored?” She whispers. “You're lying. This isn't you, Dylan.”

She knows me too well. I have to end this now, or I'll crumble.

“Maybe you don't know me as well as you thought,” I say, cold as ice. “It's over, Amy.”

I turn and walk away, each step feeling like I'm wading through quicksand. I have to make this breakup convincing. If Amy holds onto any hope, she might sacrifice her dreams to stay with me. I can't let that happen.

Then I see Clara by the park entrance. An idea hits me – awful, but necessary. Clara's always been friendly, maybe too friendly. She and Amy never got along, their personalities just too different. I hate myself for what I'm about to do, but I convince myself it's the only way to make sure Amy moves on.

“Hey, Clara,” I call out, fake smile plastered on. “Free Friday night?”

She lights up, and I feel like the world's biggest jerk. But if Amy sees me with Clara, she'll believe it's over. She'll go to Europe. Chase her dreams.

As Clara's saying yes, I see Amy leaving the park. Our eyes meet. And I watch that last bit of hope in her die.

It's for her own good, even if my heart is shattering into a million pieces.

The silence is deafening. What’s stronger than the silence is the pain, both remembered and current. I want to reach out, to erase the distance between us that I created.

“So, are you still painting?”

I can’t imagine her doing anything else. Her delicate fingers, sweeping a paintbrush over a canvas, watching her work … She used to look ethereal when she was working.

She presses her hands to the heating vents.

“Yes. Are you still with Clara or shopping around for girlfriends?” She looks over at me, studying me, her kissable lips shaped into a judgmental pucker.

Breaking up with her was the hardest decision I've ever made. I did it for her, though. Maybe one day she'll realize there's never been anyone else, not really.

“No, I’m not with Clara.” My grip tightens on the steering wheel. “And I haven’t found the right woman yet. I’ve heard it can take a while.”

How can I find the right woman when I let the only one who matters go?

“Did you finish your second degree? Get a business job?” She presses.

The slope of her neck catches my eye as she tilts her chin up.

“If you must know, I did both,” I smirk and her eyes narrow. I am the CEO of one of the biggest tech companies in New York City, but decide not to bring it up just yet. I’ve spent the last eight years working toward my goal, and it finally paid off.

Being the CEO comes with all the perks I once dreamed of—a penthouse apartment, fancy cars, and everything else I thought would make me happy. But success tastes bitter when there's no one to share it with.

Sometimes I stand in my empty penthouse, looking out at the city lights, and all I can think about is how Amy would've loved the view. Funny how I can have everything and still feel like I have nothing at all.

Snow continues to fall as we make the next turn, and I have to slow down several times and use the wipers so I can see through the snow. The forecast for this week must have been wrong. It said it wasn’t expected to snow till next week.

“Why are you back, Dylan?” she asks. Her slim shoulders fall just half an inch. I hope I make her nervous. That would mean she’s not as unaffected by me as she seems.

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