I pause, mid-sip. I hadn’t thought about this part. To be honest, I hadn’t gotten much further than we’re going to have to kiss, but there’s a pang, somewhere deep down inside, at the thought of having to break up with Charlie.
Even though it’s fake. I’m not saying it makes sense. Just that it’s happening.
“It’s not that big of a deal,” she says. “I just think we should figure out how we’re going to end things now, before we actually have to do it. That’ll make it more believable, if we can start planting the seeds of our eventual breakup now instead of suddenly going, ‘He puts mayonnaise on french fries, we can never marry’ in two months.”
“You would dump me over mayo on fries?” I ask, trying to sound light, even though my heart is still thumping unpleasantly in my chest.
“You’re a red-blooded American,” she says, taking a long swig from her cup, her eyes glimmering with a smile. “Use ketchup and don’t get ideas above your station.”
I just laugh.
“I forgot we’d have to break up,” I admit.
“We can’t actually get married,” she says. “I mean, obviously. This is not— I mean, we’re not— you know—”
Suddenly she’s flustered, the light gold skin under her freckles pinkening.
“We’re just us,” she says. “We’re not really a thing, no matter what everyone in town seems to think.”
I glance down at my nearly-empty coffee, and there’s a flicker — just a flicker — of years ago, the two of us sitting on the hood of my car, beers in hand, my arm around her as she laughs, her curls brushing against my cheek, we’re so close.
I shake it away and drink. The past is past.
“We’ll have the world’s most amicable break up,” I agree. “It’ll be so fucking civil that the United Nations will ask us to lead a seminar.”
“In front of everyone,” she says. “All the gossips. I only want to do it once, Daniel.”
There’s something in her voice, her look, and I think for a second about Charlie saying I don’t love you enough to make this work a few months from now and despite everything, despite the fact that we’re sitting here talking about our fake engagement, it hurts.
“Me too,” I say.
We’re both quiet for a moment, drinking, glancing around the coffee shop, sitting in our mutual, comfortable silence.
“Did you have any more demands?” I ask. “I don’t think you’ve got anything that Levi has to do yet.”
“I’ll think of something,” she says evenly.
“You can’t make more demands after we’ve agreed.”
That just gets a catlike smirk that lights up her hazel eyes.
“Can’t I?” she teases.Chapter FiveCharlieAs Daniel’s walking me to my car — something he always does, even though it’s eight-forty-five on a sunny morning in the middle of downtown Sprucevale, and I don’t think even the Vatican could possibly be safer — my phone rings, and I pull it out of my pocket.
It’s Daniel’s mom, Clarabelle Loveless.
“Hi, Clara,” I say.
Daniel just watches me, one eyebrow raised.
“Charlie!” she exclaims. “I only just heard your big news, I was at the telescope all night. You and Daniel! I have to admit, I had absolutely no idea.”
We stop on the sidewalk, and I turn, look into Daniel’s ocean-blue eyes.
“Well, we kept it pretty secret,” I say. “Thanks, Clara. We’re really happy.”
“Very secret,” she says. “So secret that no one suspected a thing.”
I give Daniel a slightly alarmed look, and he frowns.
What? He mouths.
I just shake my head.
“Well, you know how gossip around town can be,” I say, the words starting to tumble over each other, the way they always do when I get nervous. “And we didn’t want to tell anyone until we were super sure, because, you know, rumors and Rusty and everything so we just decided to keep it secret for those reasons! Secret reasons.”
Daniel closes his eyes and rubs his knuckles against his forehead. I bite down on my lip so I can’t talk any more.
“Whatever your reasons, I’m positively delighted,” Clara goes on. “You’ll have to come over for dinner tonight, of course. I’ve already talked Eli into cooking, and of course all the boys will be there. Even Caleb is driving down from school for the night.”
“Dinner? Tonight?” I ask, and Daniel’s eyes shoot open.
He shakes his head.
“The usual time, six o’clock,” Clara says.
Daniel shakes his head harder, making the cut it off gesture across his throat, and I make a face back at him that means it’s your mom, you know I can’t say no, are you crazy?
“Six o’clock it is,” I confirm, a little more chirpily than necessary.
Now Daniel’s making that motion with both hands at once, shaking his head at the same time.
“See you!” Clara says, and we hang up.
Daniel just sighs.
There’s a heavy weight inside me, something that feels like it’s dragging my lungs down into my stomach. Daughter-in-law. Stepmom. This faking thing is bigger than just Daniel and me, and when it ends, there are going to be a lot of disappointed people.