Page 51 of Fake Dating My Best Friend

“It’s evening,” Conner says, something raw in his voice.

“Right. Well. I just . . . goodbye.” She turns on her heel and flees down the porch steps, leaving Conner standing in the doorway. His eyes fixed on the spot where she disappeared. I exchange a look with Mom, who just shakes her head with a smile.

“Earth to Conner,” I call out. “You planning on guarding the door all night?”

He jerks a little, like someone just snapped him out of a dream. “What? No. Mind your own business.”

“Careful, you’re staring like someone who caught feelings.”

“I wasn’t.” He drops back onto the couch with way too much force. “And don’t start playing matchmaker. I mean it.”

“Methinks the lady doth protest too much.”

Mom clears her throat. “Alright, you two. Why don’t you go for a walk? Work off some of that energy before you destroy my living room.”

Conner and I share a look. We both know what she really means. Go to your spot and talk it out.

“Fine,” I sigh, hauling myself off the couch. “Come on, Conehead. Let’s go before Mom grounds us like we’re twelve again.”

We trudge out the back door and across the yard. It’s been our spot since we were kids, a place for secret twin meetings. I settle onto one of the lower branches while Conner leans against the trunk.

For a moment, we’re quiet, listening to the crickets and distant traffic.

“I saw Dad last year.”

There’s a long pause. Neither of us says anything.

We don’t talk about Dad anymore. Not after the years passed and we were old enough to understand why he left. Divorced.

Mom said Dad found someone else to love. Conner said it was called cheating. I never understood why Dad did it. And I never understood why he never replied to any of my letters.

If I had been a better kid, if I had been more lovable, would he still have done it? Would he have at least written back?

“Saw him in some fancy restaurant in the city.” Conner’s voice is carefully neutral, but there’s a tightness under the words. “He didn’t see me. Had his new family with him. A wife and two kids.”

“Con . . .”

“You know what’s funny?” He lets out a hollow laugh. “All those years playing hockey, pushing myself to be the best . . . I kept thinking maybe if I made it big enough, if I got famous enough, he’d see me on TV and regret walking away. Even after the injury, after I got into business, some part of me still thought maybe he’d show up. Say sorry. Something.”

He pauses, voice low. “But it’s been twenty years. Nothing. Not a word.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Nothing to apologize for, sis.” He glances at me. “Maybe you and I . . . maybe we’re both still stuck in his shadow, trying to prove something to ourselves, just in different ways.”

“That’s not—” I start, but the words stick in my throat.

“I get it, sis.” His voice softens.

We sit in comfortable silence for a while, the weight on my chest feeling a little lighter.

“So . . . you and Elaine, huh?”

Conner groans. “Don’t start.”

“I’m just saying, all that tension has to go somewhere,” I tease. “Maybe under all that mutual hatred is a burning—”

I don’t get to finish because Conner tackles me off the branch. We land in the grass in a ridiculous mess of limbs and laughter. It’s not exactly graceful for two almost thirty-year-olds, but we’ve never been good at acting our age around each other. We wrestle for a second before giving up and lying side by side, breathing hard and grinning like kids.

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