Page 106 of Knocked Up by My Fake Fiancé
"Because…" She takes a deep breath. "Because I think you deserve to be CEO." Her voice shakes a little. "I know better than anyone how hard you've worked for this. You've earned it. Besides…"
"Besides what?" Her hesitation grates on me. I just want this conversation over.
"I'm…" She exhales sharply, emotion flashing across her face—genuine devastation. "I'm so sorry for everything that happened between us. I know I keep apologizing, but I made a huge mistake, and I ruined what we had over nothing. I thought you didn't care about me." Her voice drops to a whisper. "And I wanted to do something to get back at you."
"It's okay," I tell her, uncomfortable as hell. "It's water under the bridge. It was a long time ago, and I'm not angry anymore.Seriously—you and George probably make a better couple than we ever did anyway."
"No, we don't." She lets out a bitter laugh. "Everything between him and me… it's just wrong."
"I'm probably not the person you should be telling that to, Marina."
"Yeah. Probably." She falls quiet, still not looking at me, and the silence drags.
"I thought you were cheating on me," she finally says. "When I saw you working all those late nights with Adella, I thought you were sleeping with her. That's why I did what I did with George. It's not an excuse, but?—"
"Adella and I were working on an acquisition," I cut in. "I was never interested in her like that."
"I know that now. I should have known it then. I should've trusted you." Her voice trembles. "But I didn't. I didn't have faith in you… not until it was too late."
"Well," I shrug, keeping my tone neutral. "We can't go back in time."
"Can't we?" she asks softly—and there's just enough suggestion in her voice to make it clear the question isn't entirely innocent.
When I don't respond, Marina gives a small, sad smile.
"Just kidding. I guess I just miss having you give a shit about me."
"I do give a shit about you," I tell her—but the words sound automatic, hollow. My mind's already a million miles away: on George, on Jenna, on my parents, on the company I've spent the last decade building.
"Really?" she asks quietly. "Because I was a little disappointed that you didn't care your fiancée might've pushed me."
"She didn't push you," I say flatly.
"I'm not saying for sure she did, but?—"
"But nothing." I cut her off. "You fell. End of story."
I'm done with this conversation. There's no question in my mind Jenna didn't touch her. Either Marina's confused about what actually happened, or worse—she's trying to stir shit up.
And even though Marina can be a royal pain in the ass, tripping pregnant women and throwing them to the ground isn't Jenna's MO. Not even close.
"Of course," Marina says finally, her expression closing off. "Well then, I'd better get back to work."
"That's all you came to tell me?"
"Yes."
"You could've called."
"But then I wouldn't have gotten to see you."
I narrow my eyes. "What game are you playing, Marina?"
"I'm not playing games." She lifts her chin. "Since I've already come this far, I might as well put all my cards on the table. I want you back, and I think, deep down, you want me back too. But I'll wait. I'll wait until you're ready."
Without waiting for an answer, she gets up and walks to the door. She pauses just long enough to glance at me—one last look—then leaves. The door clicks shut behind her.
What the actual fuck?
