One Hot Fake

Outside my office, I stop and face him. “Thanks for lunch.”

“You’re welcome,” Declan says.

“And for everything else.” I don’t know how to put it into words. In his own way, Declan is showing me another life. One where love can feature in my life again. I’m peering through a crack in the door right now, and what I see makes me want to step in through the door. I want a taste of what it feels like to wake up to sunshine every day.

Declan seems to understand what I mean. He leans down to kiss me and then leaves. I let out a sigh. It feels good to feel alive.

Chapter 22

Marian

I’ve always loved road trips, though, over the years, I’ve gone on fewer and fewer. My life has been all about business, and as we drive toward Arlen, I feel as if Declan and I are on an adventure. I relax back in my seat and watch the landscape go by without paying particular attention to it. A yawn escapes my mouth.

“Sleepy?” Declan says.

“No, just relaxed.” I chuckle. “Too relaxed.”

We decide to spend the night in Arlen and return to LA tomorrow. It feels like a vacation, which it isn’t, as I’ve crammed several meetings with some vendors on my schedule.

“This reminds me of the times Father would take all of us out on the yacht for days on end,” Declan says.

“I suppose it’s the same feeling of getting away from everything,” I say. “Do you miss it?”

He shakes his head. “Nope. Ace loved it, though. For me, it made me feel like I was imprisoned and couldn’t get away. Sailing is still not my favorite thing to do, but if you want to go, I can make an exception.”

“I don’t have a strong urge to sail,” I tell him with a laugh.

“Good.”

I haven’t been home in years. I wonder what has changed. I know all of my friends left, but I lost contact with them way before. It was easier to drift away to keep peace with Leonard.

Now I know that bullies like that. They push away everyone you love so that you become completely dependent on them. By the time you realize what’s going on, you have no support, and no strength to fight him.

Lucky for me, I had my mom on my side. Without her, I don’t think I would have left Leonard. I shudder at the thought of living the same lifestyle. I would probably be dead. I must have drifted off to sleep because the next time I come to, Declan is calling me, except that he sounds so far off.

He shakes me and jolts me into full consciousness. “What?” I rub my eyes, and my surroundings start to make sense.

“You were screaming in your sleep,” Declan says, his tone worried.

I lay my head back on the seat, still caught between sleep and being awake. “I was dreaming about Leonard. He was hitting me, and I was trying to cover my face.”

Saying the words out loud transports me back to another time and place. I feel as if the Marian, who was married to Leonard and accepted his abuse, was a different person.

“He used to hit you?” Declan says, his voice tense.

“Once. He hit me once,” I say and instantly regret telling him about my dream.

“Is that why you divorced?”

“It was many things,” I say. “I should have done it sooner.”

“I despise men who hit women. They are cowards and the scum of the earth.”

The venom in Declan’s voice makes me smile. “You’ve made me believe in the goodness of men. I’d started to believe that all men are like Leonard.”

“They spoil it for the rest of us. He’d better hope that we don’t meet,” Declan says.

I laugh it off. “He’s not worth it.”

We stop along the way for a bite and some coffee in a country inn. We spy cows grazing in the fields near the inn.

“I wish I were a cow sometimes,” Declan says, and I giggle. “They look so foolishly happy, and why not? All they have to do is find some grass and munch the day away.”

“I wish I were a bird,” I tell him. “Then I’d get to leave and go elsewhere when I get tired of my current dwelling.”

“Do you wish to go away often?” Declan says.

“Don’t you?”

He shakes his head. “Not really. If I do, I go to the beach and walk barefoot on the sand.”

“I’d like to do that,” I tell him.

“You have a home by the beach now,” Declan says and reaches into his pocket. “which reminds me, I’ve been meaning to give this to you, and I keep forgetting.” He hands me a set of keys hanging from a cute pink keychain.

“What’s this?”

“Spare house keys for you. Now you can go anytime you want,” Declan says. “The apartment is yours.”