Page 56 of The Fake Affair

She reaches over and laces her fingers through mine. “Mom’s a nurse. She’s seen worse.”

“Worse than a CEO who ran away when his fake girlfriend got pregnant?”

“Much worse.” She squeezes my hand. “Ready?”

I’m not. But I follow her up the path, anyway.

Julia Levine has her daughter’s eyes and a nurse’s way of seeing straight through bullshit. She takes one look at us on her porch and says, “Well, this should be interesting.”

The living room is cozy and filled with family photos. I spot Bella in her graduation cap and another photo of her with a man who must be her father. Their smiles match.

“So,” Julia sits in her armchair like it’s a throne. “Which version am I getting? The boss story or the boyfriend story?”

“Both,” Bella says. “They’re the same story.”

I watch Julia process this, her expression shifting from confusion to understanding to something sharper.

“Start from the beginning,” she says. “And don’t leave anything out.”

We tell her about the wedding night that started it all, the fake relationship with the board, and the real feelings that grew despite our best efforts. When we get to the part about me running, Julia’s eyes narrow.

“Your mother,” she says suddenly. “How did she die?”

The question catches me off guard. Bella starts to intervene, but Julia holds up a hand.

“I’ve been a labor and delivery nurse for thirty years,” she continues. “I’ve seen that look before. In fathers who’ve lost their wives in childbirth.”

“She died having my sister.”

Julia nods like I’ve confirmed something. “And you’ve been carrying that fear ever since.”

“Mom,” Bella warns, but Julia isn’t finished.

“What was her name?”

“Elizabeth.” My voice catches. “But everyone called her Beth.”

Julia’s eyes are soft. “You were seven?”

I nod.

“And you raised your sister?”

Another nod.

She stands, walks to a cabinet, and pulls out a photo album. “My husband, Robert, died twelve years ago. Heart attack.” She shows me a picture—Bella and her father at what looks like a science fair. “She stopped entering competitions after that. Said it wasn’t the same without him there to help build the projects.”

“Mom—” Bella starts.

“Let me finish.” Julia turns to me. “Grief changes us. Makes us run sometimes. Hide. But what matters is coming back. You came back.”

“I did.” I look at Bella. “I will. Every time.”

“Good.” Julia closes the album. “Because if you ever hurt my daughter again, I know exactly which drugs leave no trace in an autopsy.”

“Mom!”

“What? It’s a valid threat.” But she’s smiling. “Now, who’s hungry? I’m guessing my grandchild would like some of my chocolate chip pancakes.”

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