Faking It For Mr Right

It’s not like I haven’t been trying to get what Dad’s been holding over my head for years now. It’s not like I couldn’t have done this some other time, asked some other girl to pretend to get engaged to me in order to get the deeds, to get the keys to the one place I ever felt truly at home and safe. But I didn’t. Because I’d never met a girl I could really see myself marrying.

Not until Melanie. With her, I realized I could make this whole charade work… Because with her, I finally realized what I’d want a marriage to look like. What someone I could commit to looked like.

My heart skips in my chest, and it’s painful and thrilling, all at once.

I have to find her. I have to tell her the truth. Not just about my feelings for her, but about everything. No matter how terrifying it is.

I pull out my phone to call Andrew again. This time, thank god, it doesn’t go to voicemail. He answers after the first ring, and his tone is more brusque than usual, as if he’d guessed I would call. “Boss?” he asks.

It’s possibly the first time he’s ever called me that. It’s my first hint of many that he’s pissed at me. But he doesn’t need to tell me. Hell, I’m pissed at myself, too. I get it. “Where is she?” I ask.

“You’re not going to like the answer,” he responds softly, which sends my stomach sinking down to my knees.

13

Melanie

I blink back tears and shift on the bench, studying the flight board one more time. I still haven’t gone up to the counter yet. I’ve got time. There’s only one more flight leaving for my destination tonight, and it doesn’t depart for another three hours. Three hours of crying my eyes out in the middle of JFK. Followed by the return flight home, and then the long car ride home with Devan afterward.

I called her the second Andrew left. Somehow, she already knew what had happened. “I’m so sorry,” she said the second she answered the phone.

Andrew must have texted her. Given her a heads up that I’d be coming back tonight. The rest she could deduce herself, I’m sure.

He’s a good guy, I think about Andrew, which only sours my expression as I think all over again about Xander. His callous words. Don’t worry. I should be able to convince him to keep his side of the bargain. You’ll be home soon. Like all of our time together meant nothing. Like I was nothing more than a pawn in his game.

But I knew that. It was what I signed up for. Could I really be mad at him just because I developed feelings, after we both agreed we wouldn’t? Whose fault is that?

I grimace and bury my head in my hands. In my fingertips, I clutch Xander’s credit card. I don’t have any of my stuff with me, except for my own wallet. I was too embarrassed to go back to the apartment and pick it up. Not to mention too worried that I might run into Xander there. And what could I say?

No. Better to just leave. Ask him to send me anything I left of value in the mail. It’s not like any of my clothing is worth real money. After seeing how Xander lives, it only makes me surer that I’m doing the right thing. After all, I can pretend to fit into his life for a week or two, but I never truly would. I didn’t come from money. I don’t understand high fashion, and I’d never stop gawking at all his and his friends’ possessions like some astonished country girl.

It’s better off this way. At least, that’s what I try to convince myself.

The baby churning in my belly, however, tells a different story.

What the fuck am I going to do? At some point, even if I leave now, I’ll need to tell Xander about the pregnancy. About the fact that I’m carrying his baby. I hang my head in my hands and breathe in deep, sharp breaths to try to combat another rush of tears.

First things first, Melanie, you’re going to march up to the counter and buy an airline ticket home. It’s what Devan would tell me to do if she were here. Smart, sensible Devan. Devan, who warned me that this whole situation was a bad idea. Devan, who always tries to protect me from my own worst impulses.

Well, I’m sorry I didn’t listen to her.

I stand on quivering legs and start to make my way across the airport toward the ticketing counter. I’m almost there when I hear someone call my name.

I freeze, my breath hitching in my chest. I’m torn between my brain, which screams at me that I don’t want to see him right now, and my heart, which leaps with joy just at the sound of my name on his lips.