Mister Fake Fiance

She parks first and climbs out. I follow suit. We walk together, side by side. Every cell in my body is vibrating to a special frequency that’s only for her. But then when we reach the second floor, she slowly backs away, looking torn between longing and trepidation.

I realize that Boyfriend David is new to her. She’s only familiar with Boss David. Part of me bristles, wanting me to stop her, but a more civilized part keeps me rooted to the spot. I want her to make the decision. I don’t want her to have any regrets.

Gathering my willpower, I turn and head into my room. I toss myself on the bed, knowing I won’t be able to sleep. Erin’s words keep playing back in my head in an endless loop. I hurt more and more because I know somebody out there made her think she shouldn’t strive for more in her future because she’s going to develop some mental illness. I wonder if she knows exactly what she has. Is it treatable? Medical science is making advances every day. A big pharma company somewhere could’ve discovered a medicine for her mom’s condition since Erin’s high school years. Even if she develops the same kind of illness her mom had, she might be able to live her life without any symptoms or challenges.

Just then, what I said while watching that episode of Criminal Minds comes back to me. Mental illness runs in the family.

Shit. I didn’t mean anything by it, but that doesn’t mean it didn’t have an impact on Erin to hear me say it so casually.

During her “enlightenment” phase, when she was into Eastern philosophies, Kathleen once told me that a stone tossed out thoughtlessly into a pond can kill an innocent frog. I feel like that’s exactly what I’ve done. Even though I didn’t know, I still bear responsibility for saying it.

On the other hand, I can’t think of a way to apologize, either…except to be more mindful of what I say and do. I wish I could bring it up, but I don’t know how. This is such a delicate topic for her that I’m afraid I’ll botch it, maybe even make her think I pity her or have some other crappy motive—like Fordham.

In the morning, I hunt through my wines to pick out a bottle of red that Sophia will like. I feel like there’s a handful of sand in my eyes from the lack of sleep, but Dane’s doing me a favor, so I need to bring something good. Besides, giving this to his wife will earn me double points in Dane’s book.

A couple of minutes later, Erin comes to the kitchen, looking rested, for which I’m grateful. There’s no reason for both of us to suffer.

She’s in one of the new dresses Josephine must’ve helped her pick out. It’s a fitted purple number with a halter neck, and she’s wearing the matching sandals, her pink toenails peeking through.

She’s irresistibly adorable, her cheeks rosy. If I weren’t her fake fiancé and we didn’t have to be in the office together, I’d kiss her silly.

She gives me a slightly shy smile. “Does this look okay? I thought maybe we’d go straight to dinner after work.”

I smile. “You look incredible, and yeah, we’ll need to if we don’t want to be late. Dane hates to be kept waiting.” I place a kiss on her forehead even though I know it’s make-believe. Fake or not, she’s my fiancée, and I want her to know how gorgeous she is.

She flushes, her eyes bright. She touches the spot I kissed, then curls her hand, like she’s holding something fragile and precious. “Thanks.”

“And purple is a fantastic color for you,” I say in a light tone, trying not to read too much into her gesture. “I hope you bought a lot of new purple things. Otherwise, I’m going to have to complain to Josephine and have her come back again.” I wink.

Erin laughs. “Please don’t. She did great, and I have plenty of stuff in, like, every shade. She was very persuasive.”

“Good.” Seeing Erin happy and glowing is worth the astronomical invoice I’m about to receive. Although I’m not into women’s fashion, I recognize the brand. It’s one of Cora’s favorites, and she has expensive taste. “We should take my car to work today rather than driving separately. It’s easier, and Dane might wonder why we don’t carpool when we’re living together.”

“Makes sense,” she says.

The shared ride in the Lamborghini is great, especially when I get to watch her sip her coffee. I reach over and link our hands together. She squeezes back, smiling at me.

In the office, I order a bouquet of purple hyacinths to be delivered as soon as possible. Nothing huge and ostentatious like the roses Fordham bought, but something that can liven up her workstation and make her smile every time she looks up from her computer.

I know when the blossoms arrive because I can hear some voices, and Erin walks in, her smile brilliant. “Thank you, David,” she says brightly. “You didn’t have to. I would’ve told Sophia you bought me lots of hyacinths even if you hadn’t.”

“My pleasure. And I bought them because I wanted to. You deserve them. It has nothing to do with dinner tonight. I just want you to be happy.”

Her mouth forms an O. She licks her lips, then blinks several times like she’s lost for words.

Just what the hell kind of life has she had that it’s so hard for her to just accept a nice gesture and be happy? I wish I could meet her dad, demand why he didn’t do more to help her become secure in herself.

Watching her cast around for something to say is too painful. I swallow a small lump in my throat. “Just…bring me the agenda for the three o’clock meeting.”

“Okay,” she says with relief, and leaves.

Chapter Thirty-Eight

Erin

Dane’s home is a huge estate. Ornate black gates and fences block outsiders from entering the multi-acre property. I can’t see anything but lush green from the outside.

“Wow,” I say.