One Hot Fake

“Not with his fists,” Marian says, her voice so low I can barely make out the words. “He used words. Sometimes words are more harmful than physical abuse.”

I know because my parents liked to use words to put me down or compare me to Ace.

“He messed up my self-esteem so badly that by the time I got out, I could barely talk to anyone,” she says.

“He was an asshole,” I tell her bluntly. “But you have to understand that not all of us are like that, Marian. Most of us know that our job is to protect our women.”

She inhales deeply and looks at me fearfully. “I’ve thought about it too.”

My heart skips a beat. “About us?”

She nods.

“We fit each other so well. What’s the harm in giving it a try? If it doesn’t work, then we’ll part ways with no hard feelings,” I say.

She looks at me shrewdly. “Will you be able to give up the baby?”

She already knows me so well. “That’s another thing. I want to be part of the baby’s life. We’re both adults, and I’m sure we can work something out.”

“After seeing you with Luna and how much you talk about her, I’m not surprised.”

“We could do it,” I tell her. “We can make our marriage work. I know we can.”

“And how do you know that, Mr. Carter?” Marian says, her tone playful.

I roll over to my side and hook a finger under her chin. “Easy. Because I love you.”

A stricken look comes over her features. She looks like a deer caught in headlights.

“Love?” she says.

“Yes, love. It’s what—”

“I know what the damn word means,” Marian snaps. “But I think you’re moving too fast, Declan. I’ve barely agreed to think about us making it work, and in the next moment, you’re declaring your everlasting love.”

I drop my finger and smile. “Okay, Marian, we’ll do it your way. But know that for me, this is real.”

“I need to get ready for work,” she says.

I know that’s Marian’s way of backing off when things get too emotionally heavy. It’s fine for now. I’ve already planted the seed, and she needs time to absorb it. I’m happy to give her the space she needs.

“Oh, and I forgot to tell you that I’ll leave very early tomorrow morning,” Marian says as she puts on a robe. “I’m going to Arlen tomorrow for the day. I need to meet my mom and scope out some vendors and locations for her wedding.”

“Delegation didn’t work then?” I ask her.

“Nope,” Marian says. “She called and laid a heavy guilt trip on me. I agreed to do it.”

“If you like, I can take you,” I tell her.

She’s as surprised as I am by the offer. Her lips curve into a smile. “I’d like that.” She kisses me and, with a wave, leaves my room to go and get ready.

I pick up my phone and scrawl through my work emails and messages before jumping into the shower.

“Here’s your coffee,” Marian says when I stroll into the kitchen later.

I take the mug and sip it gratefully. She asks about the renovations, and I bring her up to date.

“I interviewed a few people for your social media account. My first choice was the best. Her name is Zoe, and she’s both a social media manager and a photographer. A winning combination,” Marian says.

“Thank you,” I tell her, admiring the twinkle that comes to her eyes when she talks business. “What gave you such passion for business?”

She goes still for a moment at the unexpected question. She takes a sip of her coffee before answering, but I suspect it’s a ploy to get more time to think. She’s solemn when she begins to speak. “Business is predictable depending on how much work you put in, unlike real life.”

“Sounds to me like you mean that you can hide from real life through business,” I say.

She starts to protest, then stops. “Or you can live your life through business.”

“Without risking getting hurt,” I say.

She shrugs in answer. “So, do you want a ride to the site?”

“It’s out of your way; I’ll take an Uber,” I say, not wanting to be too much in her face and space.

“It’s not,” she says. “Besides, I love your company.”

I put on an expression of shock. “Wait, was that a compliment?”

She laughs. “Maybe. I do like you, Declan; else we would have gotten an annulment on the first day, baby or not.” She stands up and takes her cup to the sink. Marian rinses the cups and grabs her handbag.

We stroll out of the house, and for a while, it feels so real. Anyone watching would easily believe that we have been married for years. We fit into each other’s lives seamlessly. After I close the door behind me, I take Marian’s hand into mine as we walk to the car. She doesn’t pull away.