Page 95 of Fake Dating Mr. Prince
He made me feel special. He made me feel accepted. He made me feel loved even though that wasn’t his intention.
He made mefeel.
The one time I voiced my love for him, he kicked me out. I understood the reasons were buried in his past hurt. He’d been burned. Yet so had we all. There were times when you walked through fire to hold on to someone’s love. It hurt that he wasn’t willing to take a step or a leap of faith in my direction.
His scarred heart didn’t excuse his unwillingness to believe me.
He didn’t love me in return.
There was no doubt in my mind that Elaine’s deceit would irrevocably change us, but I’d hoped he knew me better than that. That he would see the love I had for him and not cast me aside. Sadness permeated my being; heavy and leaden. Rational thought was just out of reach. I hated that I let the depression paralyze me, but I didn’t know how to pull myself out of it.
Not having him return my love was painful. Not having him believe in my integrity was worse. In sharing the terrible mistake I’d made in taking a picture of PI’s designs, I’d given him the proof he needed to reject me.
I buried my head under the blankets wrapped around me. We were in the middle of spring, and still, I felt cold.
Elaine had called me as soon as the papers published the dresses she claimed to be of her own design. She’d only gotten four out of the twelve Henri created, but that didn’t seem to matter to her. Once I answered, she insisted I come in right away and get started sewing them.
The first time I hung up on her.
The second time I told her later.
By the third time, I let her go to voicemail.
My phone currently wasn’t able to take any more messages after she’d left twenty for me, letting me know I was expected to come into work asap or else.
The ‘or else’ didn't seem to bother me as much as it should right now.
My couch had a permanent divet from where I’d been lying. I couldn’t bring myself to go into the bedroom. Every time I tried to sleep in my bed, I’d see Dean, and the last time he’d stayed over. Him touching me, caressing me, and bringing me to orgasm over and over again.
He’d made it so that I didn’t want to be with anyone else. I was convinced I’d die a lonely old maid never able to get over my love for him. I’d never defined myself as someone who needed a guy. I hated that having our relationship end was destroying me. Yet here I was, like the heroine in that stupid movie, languishing on my couch because the man I loved now hated me.
I knew this all-consuming sadness had a lot to do with Dean, but it wasn’t just the loss of our relationship. It was the loss of my business, feeling stuck and tied to my stepmother, a woman who hated me.
What did I have going for me in my life? Nothing.
My dreams were never coming true, and I felt like I’d failed my parents. I’d done nothing to make them proud. Maybe Elaine was right in her estimation of me.
The moment I started to work on those dresses, I’d seal my fate. There was no way Dean would believe I had nothing to do with my stepmother's deception. And if I didn’t get my ass in gear and start working on the new designs, Elaine would make good on her threat and implicate Dean.
My hope was that he’d be able to salvage his reputation and still take over his father’s company. I couldn’t bear the thought of him losing the one thing he had worked his entire life for. It meant everything to him.
I’d already decided I’d call my stepmother later and tell her to expect me at work tomorrow. It was the least I could do for Dean after all the trouble my family had caused him.
A knock sounded at my door. I debated getting up, but didn’t bother. Another, more insistent knock echoed through my small living room. Whoever it was didn’t seem to be getting the hint. I shrugged and turned up the volume of the TV.
The knocking abruptly stopped.
I waited with half an ear to see if it would start up again. When nothing happened, I focused back on the movie that proved the heroine was just as foolish as I was. She fell in love with the hero, knowing how emotionally unavailable he was.
Idiot.
My doorknob rattled, and the sound of a key being inserted in the lock had me jump.What the fuck!Now I was freaking out. I glanced around to find a weapon. When I saw nothing but mail and my cell phone, I sat up and lifted the bowl over my head.
I was ready.
The door quickly swung open. I drew back my arm and promptly dropped the bowl to the floor as an ear-piercing shriek hit me.
“Oh my God! Were you going to throw that at me?” Stella stood before me. I’d forgotten I’d given her a copy of my key last year in case I’d gotten locked out.
