Page 40 of Silver Fake

It's an unusual sight, this tender side of him, almost like catching a glimpse of a rare, elusive creature. I find myself wishing that this wasn't such a rarity, that he would let this softer, gentler side of him surface more often.

The reception area is a short walk from the chapel. A tastefully decorated tent awaits us, twinkling under the soft glow of fairy lights artfully strung overhead. The sounds of laughter and clinking glasses grow louder as we approach, signaling the beginning of the next chapter of Angela's special day.

As we step into the tent, the atmosphere transforms instantly.

The space is filled with a sense of joyous celebration, resonating with the rhythm of an upbeat song pulsing from the speakers. A makeshift dance floor is at the center, currently filled with children chasing each other, their laughter echoing above the music.

Soon, the DJ calls for the first dance, and the newlyweds take their positions amidst a circle of cheering guests. By the time the first dance ends, the atmosphere is electric. Guests of all ages start to trickle onto the dance floor, drawn by the enticing rhythm of the music. The music shifts seamlessly from one song to another, each one a crowd-pleaser that keeps the energy high and the dance floor crowded.

As the music continues to pulse through the air, John leans towards me, his voice barely audible above the music. "I see some old high school friends I'd like to catch up with," he whispers. "I won't be long, I promise."

His words are warm, reassuring. Before pulling away, he bends down and plants a gentle kiss on my hair, a small gesture that sends a delightful shiver down my spine. I watch as he threads his way through the crowd, his attention already on a group of people gathered across the room.

Just then, out of my peripheral vision, I see Denise headed my way with a huge grin on her face.

"Boy, you and John are really selling this fake relationship thing," She chuckles as she sits down at the table next to me. "You certainly have me fooled."

I wink at her. "I'm ready for my Oscar."

But even as I say that, I am aware of a tiny ache of longing that starts to flutter in my stomach.

Denise laughs heartily. "An Oscar, huh? With your performance, darling, you're destined for a lifetime achievement award. Now, if only John could match your skill level, we'd have a blockbuster on our hands."

"Excuse me ladies." John's deep baritone cuts through our conversation. He's standing behind me, a charming smile on his face as he offers me his hand.

“May I have this dance?”

I look at Denise, a hint of hesitation in my eyes. I hate that I haven't been able to spend time together during this vacation. But she just grins at me, her eyes sparkling with encouragement.

Denise leans in, squeezing my hand reassuringly. "Go," she says, her voice filled with warmth and understanding. "You've earned this. Enjoy every moment. We'll catch up later, promise. I'm about to go find Brett."

With one last reassuring smile, she shoos me away from the table.

John closes his hand over mine, and then leads me onto the dance floor. Everyone else disappears the moment he presses me against him. This could be the last time we do anything like this together, so I decide to relax into the feeling and enjoy the moment.

He spins me again, making me laugh so hard that I squeal as he pulls me tight against him. I notice his mom and dad watching us, their faces lighting up as they smile at us. I wave at them just before John dips me low and pulls me up against his chest.

Our bodies are even closer now, and I feel like my temperature is rising. Then the music changes, and he slows us down. He places my arms around his neck, drops his hands down to my waist, and pulls me so close we’re moving as one with every sway of our bodies.

John's head drops down low, and his face practically touches mine in the crook of my neck. “Have I told you how beautiful you look tonight?”

I smile. “Not in the last ten minutes."

“Don’t tell the bride,” His voice vibrates against my skin, sending goosebumps over my entire body. “But you’re the real show-stopper here. You’re the most beautiful woman in the room.”

I lean my head back enough to look at him and give him a crooked grin. “It’s the dress. I don’t think anyone could look anything other than beautiful in it.”

He shakes his head. “It’s not the dress.” He cups my face in his hand. “It’s you. Dress or sweatpants and messy hair.” He winks, and we both chuckle. “You’re beautiful, Lisa Thomas.”

He’s looking into my eyes, and I swear his eyes are morphing from a brilliant bright blue to the color of the ocean in a storm. It feels like all the air is being sucked out of the room, and I need him to resuscitate me before I forget how to breathe. This doesn’t feel fake. Where is the lie in how we seem to be drawn to each other?

I don’t want to focus on that right now. Now, I want to keep up the lie. I want to enjoy our time together and worry about everything else tomorrow.

I lick my lips, remembering how good his mouth felt on mine. I hear him groan, and he brings his mouth back to my ear.

“If you keep doing that, I’m going to lose control.”

“Doing what?”

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