Page 26 of Fake Fiancée for Dad's Best Friend
While they speak to each other, I look for Vivian again, but she isn’t around. David isn’t in the living room either. My pulse spikes. Where did they go?
I stand up, intending to look for my fiancée, but Sam stands up after me and pushes me back to my seat. “I’ll leave you two alone. I’m sure you have a lot to talk about!”
What’s she talking about? I want to excuse myself because Trisha and I speak on the phone often, and once in a while, we dine together.
But seeing Trisha’s eager smile, I sit back down.
“So, how’s the runway show preparation?” Trisha asks me as if to break the silence. For years, Trisha has been the lead model for Trend. After she retired from the vocation a few years back, she started a fashion line under my company and also her own modeling agency.
Fashion Week won’t begin until September, but the preparation started in April.
“The set designing is almost done, and they’ve recruited all the models and already rehearsed once.”
She raises her eyebrows. “Great. If there’s anything I can do, let me know. And I’ll always be your backup model.”
I thank her, and then we fall into an awkward silence. Frankly, I resent Sam for inviting Trisha. Although we broke up without a fight, and we’re still friends, and my engagement isn’t real, I still feel uncomfortable.
“I kept wondering how our engagement party would be like,” Trisha says suddenly, reminding me we broke up before we got the chance to plan a party.
I don’t respond because I don’t know what to say. It’s strange because she’s never brought up the topic until now.
It started with something unbelievably trivial. A month after I proposed to Trisha, I had a small family gathering at my penthouse in NY. I was playing with Jimmy, and Trisha was observing us on the side along with other members of the family. Mom said she couldn’t wait to see me holding my children in my arms and volunteer to babysit for us in the future. Trisha laughed and told Karen thanks but no thanks because she had no plan whatsoever to have babies. Karen didn’t take her seriously and told her not to be so sure because women tended to change their minds after marrying. Trisha became agitated, and she said almost rudely that she was not like other women. I had always known she didn’t want to have kids, but like my mom, I was hoping she would change her mind. I knew she was a model and wanted to maintain her figure, but I thought she would give up her career and become a mom since she was pushing forty. At the moment, it was clear I was kidding myself. But I would still keep self-deceiving if my brother-in-law hadn’t asked, somehow thoughtlessly, why we bothered to get married at all if it weren’t for starting a family. I had no good answer for that, and Trisha said, “That’s a good question, George. I guess Alex’s proposal was simply too good.”
Everyone in the room laughed, but I was struck by lightning. Afterward, when we were alone, I had a serious talk with her to make sure she really had no intention of having kids. When she confirmed, I told her I was sorry and broke the engagement. In hindsight, I should have had that talk before proposing to her, but I was too self-confident.
I sigh at the recollection, but Trisha isn’t aware of my vexation. She says with an insincere smile, “So, Vivian is an intern at Trend? How long have you known her?”
“I’ve known her for a while,” I say, hoping she’d drop the topic. I don’t feel like discussing Vivian with her.
But she wouldn’t stop her inquisition. “She’s awfully young, Alex. I didn’t know you cared for immature girls.”
“People change,” I say tersely. And then I stand up. “It’s time I turn in. I have to fly back early in the morning.”
She stands up after me and grabs my arm. Taking a deep breath, she says, “You’re right, Alex. People change. I’ve changed, too.”
Not knowing what she’s getting at, I wait for her to speak again.
“Three years ago, I had no desire of having kids, but I do now.”
I blink as understanding dawns on me. She’s referring to our break up and she wants me back. Trisha is a proud woman, and I know it must take her tremendous effort to admit that. I should be flattered, but I’m also vexed. My feelings for her have worn out little by little during the years. Our relationship lasted a year after we broke the engagement, and after that, we were strictly business partners. Looking back, there was never much passion between us.
True, Trisha is a beautiful woman with refined manners. But she’s also reserved, and she has never given herself to me completely. She kept her thoughts and feelings to herself most of the time as if she distrusted me. I allowed her the space and the freedom because I respected her, and I didn’t think it was possible to own a person completely.
But when she made it clear she had no desire to have kids with me, I realized she had no plan to sacrifice anything for me at all, not to mention to be mine. I came to my senses right then. My love for her was primarily an appreciation of an artist for art. She was a living art when she was clothed in the products of my brand. Even now, I still appreciate her beauty, but the physical attraction between us has long gone.
My mouth hangs open for a second before I come up with a proper response. “That’s good to know,” I say, forcing a smile.
Her face is red first, and then the color dissipates. “Is that all you can say?”
“What do you want me to say?”
She bites her lips together, a gesture I’m familiar with that shows her frustration. “Let’s start all over, Alex.”
“Are you serious? Trisha?” I’m taken aback by her insistence, given that we haven’t been together for two years. “I’m engaged.”
She shrugged. “You aren’t serious about the engagement. It isn’t real.”
What? How does she know? I panic for a second. “How…why do you say that?”
