Page 76 of Fake Dating My Best Friend

“Not at all.”

We fall into an easy pace, our footsteps crunching in sync on the pavement. Victor doesn’t push the conversation, which I appreciate. He’s always been the quiet type.

After a few minutes, he breaks the silence. “Beautiful morning.”

“Yeah.”

“Though most people don’t usually look this upset about beautiful mornings.”

I shoot him a sideways glance. Victor’s eyes are fixed ahead, but there’s a half-smile on his face.

“I’m fine.”

“Sure you are,” he chuckles.

Despite myself, I snort. Victor’s in good shape for his age, but he runs like someone who discovered exercise in his forties.

We reach the old gazebo by the pond, and Victor slows down. “Mind if we take a break? These old knees aren’t what they used to be.”

I nod, following him to a bench. The wooden slats are cold through my running pants.

Victor takes a long drink from his water bottle. “You know, when I first met Christina, she wouldn’t give me the time of day.”

This catches me off guard. “What?”

“Oh yeah. Took me three months just to get her to agree to coffee.” He caps his water bottle. “And another three before she’d call it a date.”

I don’t know where he’s going with this, but something about the quiet morning and Victor’s calm presence loosens the knot in my chest.

My shoulders tense. “Isla told you about last night?”

“Nope. But we have been watching you two falling for each other for years. And you’ve got that same look I used to see in the mirror—like someone who’s crazy about someone who won’t let them get close.”

I drop my head into my hands. “She ran, Victor. We were so close, and then she just . . . ran.”

“Of course she did.” Victor’s voice is gentle.

“I don’t know what to do.” The admission feels raw in my throat. “I’ve loved her for so long. I thought if I could tell her how I feel, everything would fall into place.”

“It’s not just about that.” Victor leans forward, resting his elbows on his knees. “You knew about Isla’s father, right?”

“A little.”

“He abandoned them completely. Chose a whole new family over them.” Victor’s voice grows serious. “That kind of hurt . . . it sticks. Christina was the same way. Terrified I’d walk out, eventually.”

“What did you do?”

“I stayed. Through every test, every wall, every time she pushed me away.” He smiles, a private sort of smile. “I proved I wasn’t going anywhere until she believed it.”

The sun peeks over the trees, casting long shadows across the park. In the distance, a cardinal calls.

“I don’t know if I risked too much,” I admit.

“We support you no matter what you decide.” Victor stands, stretching his back. “But if you want my advice? Show her you understand the difference between saying you won’t leave and proving it.”

As we start jogging again, my mind races faster than my feet. All these years, I’ve known about Kyle and the other jerks who hurt Isla. But I might never really understand how deep the wound went.

“Thanks, Victor.” The words feel inadequate.

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