Page 13 of Once Upon a Holiday Vacation
I froze, panic rising in my chest. But Weston, ever the smooth talker, jumped in without missing a beat. “Oh, we go way back,”he said, his arm still draped casually around me. “Childhood sweethearts, you could say. Right, babe?”
I nodded, trying to ignore the flutter in my stomach at the wordbabe. “Y-yeah, that's us.”
The couple settled into the chairs across from us, clearly eager to hear more. As Weston launched into our “love story,” I found myself both terrified and oddly thrilled.
He leaned back in his chair, a mischievous glint in his sea-blue eyes. “So picture this,” he began, gesturing dramatically. “Two five-year-olds, first day of kindergarten. I'm the wild child, running around like a tornado. And there's East, quiet as a mouse, clutching his favorite book.”
Heat flared in my cheeks as his gaze landed on me, his smile softening. “I knocked over his block tower, and instead of crying, he just looked at me with those big hazel eyes and asked if I wanted to build a bigger one together.”
My heart skipped a beat. This wasn't exactly how it happened, but God, I wished it was.
“From that day on,” Weston continued, “we were inseparable. He was my calm in the storm, you know? Always there with a kind word or a gentle touch.”
I swallowed hard, trying to remind myself this was all pretend. But Weston's words, the warmth in his voice, it felt so real.
“What about your first kiss?” the woman asked, leaning forward eagerly.
Weston chuckled, running a hand through his messy blond hair. “Oh, that's a good one. East, want to tell it?”
I panicked for a moment before blurting out, “It was at prom.” The words tumbled out before I could stop them. “We, uh, we'd gone as friends, but...”
“But I couldn't resist anymore,” he jumped in, saving me. He reached out, intertwining our fingers. “I pulled him under the bleachers and just went for it.”
As he continued spinning a beautiful, fictional tale of our love story, I found myself getting lost in it. For a moment, I let myself believe it was true—that we weren't just best friends, that he truly saw me the way I saw him.
But then reality came crashing back. This was all an act, a game we were playing for strangers. The warmth in my chest turned to a dull ache as I reminded myself: Weston didn't love me, not like that. Never like that.
I relaxed into my seat, the tension in my shoulders easing as the conversation turned to the couple across from us, Mark and Lisa. They regaled us with their own meet-cute story, and I found myself genuinely laughing at their antics.
“So there I was,” Mark said, “covered in paint and standing in the middle of her art studio like some kind of clumsy Picasso!”
Lisa giggled, playfully swatting his arm. “You looked adorable, though. Like a human rainbow.”
I felt Weston's arm drape casually over the back of my chair, his fingers absently brushing my shoulder. The touch sent a shiver down my spine, but I tried to focus on the conversation.
The night wore on, filled with laughter and shared stories. As the lounge began to empty, Weston stood up, stretching. “What do you say we get some fresh air, babe?” he asked, offering me his hand.
I took it, ignoring the flutter in my stomach at the endearment. “Sounds perfect.”
We bid goodnight to Mark and Lisa, then made our way out onto the deck. The cool sea breeze hit us immediately, ruffling my hair and making me shiver slightly. Weston noticed, moving closer to share his warmth.
We leaned against the railing, our shoulders touching as we gazed up at the star-studded sky. The vastness of it all took my breath away.
“It's beautiful,” I whispered, not wanting to break the tranquil spell that had fallen over us.
He hummed in agreement, his eyes fixed on the horizon where the inky black sea met the star-speckled sky. “You know,” he said softly, “I always feel small looking at the stars. But tonight, I don't know... I feel like I'm exactly where I'm supposed to be.”
I turned to look at him, my heart skipping a beat at the soft expression on his face. A whirlwind of emotions swept through me. The day had been a rollercoaster, filled with moments of pure joy and nagging anxiety. I was grateful for every second spent with him, yet a part of me ached, knowing it was all pretend.
“West,” I began, my voice barely above a whisper, “today was...”
“Absolutely ridiculous?” he finished, turning to me with a grin. “I mean, who knew we'd make such convincing lovebirds?”
I chuckled, but it felt hollow. “Yeah, who knew?”
Weston must have sensed something in my tone because his expression softened. “Hey, what's going on in that big brain of yours, East?”
I shook my head, trying to dispel the conflicting thoughts. “It's nothing. Just... thinking about how easy it is to get caught up in all of this.”
