Page 117 of Real Fake Husband

I’m surprised when he pulls out the biggest bouquet of poppies I’ve ever seen.

“What—?”

“Mr. Ashford asked me to present these to you when your meeting was over,” the driver explains. “Judging by your smile, I take it that it went well.”

I’m transfixed by the flowers. Cal got me flowers. Not roses, which are nice, but somehow too impersonal, too conventional. But bright-red poppies with the most delicate petals in a color that reminds me of his heart tattoo.

He didn’t know how the meeting was going to go, but he believes in me enough to assume I’d get the show.

I take the bouquet with watery eyes. How beautiful it is!

Burying my face in the soft petals, I inhale their sweet scent.

I get a little dizzy.

“Whoa! All right, all right, have a seat.” Dennis opens the back door and helps me sit. “Are you all right, Mrs. Ashford?”

“Yes, yes, I’m fine. Sorry.”

Feverishly, I try to collect my thoughts. Did I make a mistake by leaving Cal? He held me, encouraged me, admitted that I changed his world. Of all people, he’s the one who cared the most. Besides telling me he loves me, he’s said everything a woman wants to hear from the man she loves.

But will that be enough? Above all, will it be enough for a lifetime? When the rush of first infatuation wears off, Cal will start pushing me around again, making decisions for me and trying to force his carefree way of life on me. Unless he at least tries to see the world through my eyes, our marriage, our love, is doomed.

“Can I drop you off somewhere? I’m happy to take you wherever you need to go.”

“Yes, thank you, I’d like that.”

How can I ever make the right decision when my head is spinning like mad? All I know is that, no matter how much everything in me wants to jump into his open arms, I cannot allow my treacherous heart to make a foolhardy decision that will make us both miserable.

What it all boils down to, is that neither of us are ready. I’m not ready.

It’s hell having second thoughts. It’s hell being in love.

Tears roll down my cheeks, and I quickly wipe them away. Although I vowed never to cry over Callum Ashford again, he’s done it again. He doesn’t even have to be here in person. It’s enough that he pays attention and thinks of me.

I have to believe I’m making the right decision, or I will lose my mind.

Dennis takes a seat in the front. “Where to?”

“To The Diner, please.”

43

CAL

Friday

Ispend a few hours at the dealership, getting everything ready for the big day tomorrow. Normally, when I open a new place, the last few days are hectic while we get everything up and running. I like to be onsite to smooth any bumps in the road or manage anything unexpected. But Theo has everything handled. He knows what he’s doing, and there’s honestly not much left for me to do.

No text from her.

I call Dennis. He confirms that he delivered the bouquet and dropped her off at The Diner, and that concluded his service.

Once it reaches noon, I decide to call it a day, and leave.

“Hey, bro, you coming to Mom’s this evening?” Theo asks on my way out. “A bunch of us are getting together for a few beers.”

“Maybe,” I grumble.

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