Fake Marriage Box Set

Footsteps behind me made me smile. I stood there, unable to move, my back to the door. His footsteps stopped, and I could feel him in the room. It was like his presence had filled the space around me.

I took a deep breath and turned around. There he was, looking back at me. Our eyes met for a brief second, and then he smiled. The smile made me feel warm and tingly, creating a little sizzle of electricity that started in my toes and spiraled up and throughout my body to my fingertips.

“Hi,” he said, the smile still on his face.

“Hi,” I repeated.

He stepped forward, coming to a stop mere inches from me. I watched him, waiting to see what he would do next. In the back of my mind, I knew I should step away. I was playing with fire. I hadn’t turned on the lights in the classroom, and neither had he. We were alone, in the dark.

I could feel his breath on my face. I was still tingling from his smile. I felt primed and ready for anything, even if I knew it would be wrong and I would regret it the second it happened. I didn’t care. I wanted to throw caution to the wind.

I flinched when he held up a hand. He was going to touch me. Maybe pull me in for a kiss or caress my cheek before he kissed me. I waited, holding my breath.

He stepped back a good foot, opening a chasm between us. I looked up to see a strangled look on his face. The man had some serious self-control.

“I’ve missed you,” he breathed out.

I nodded, still trying to recover from the kiss that never happened. I knew it was the right thing, but I couldn’t help but feeling as if I had lost something.

“I’m glad to be back,” I muttered.

“How was your trip home?”

We were standing there in the dark, just chatting, as if we hadn’t almost crossed a line. His body was stiff as he stayed put. It was as if an invisible line had been drawn. Neither of us could cross it. Both of our bodies were straining to get closer, but the line kept us apart.

“It was good. I enjoyed myself a lot more than I thought I would,” I said, excited to tell him about my trip.

He smiled. Not the same toe-curling smile, but a genuine smile nonetheless. “That is really good to hear. I hope you managed to get some rest?”

I nodded. “Yeah, I did actually. Thank you for that.”

He shrugged the words away. “Did you go see your sister?” he asked, in a quiet, tentative voice.

“Yes, I did. My mom and I spent several hours at the cemetery. We cleaned up her plot and put in some new flowers. It was actually a really nice time. When we were finished, we went to Talia’s favorite restaurant and stuffed our faces with the best, unhealthiest food in the world.” I grinned.

He laughed. “It sucks that the unhealthy food tastes the best. It’s all some horrible joke played on us humans by the universe.”

I laughed. “Yes, it is. I’ve decided to give myself some more free passes to eat that horrible food. I’m going to have to visit your diner again soon. I still have dreams about that French toast,” I joked.

It was then I realized I was actually laughing, enjoying myself and had just told him about my time at the cemetery. In the past, the mere mention of Talia’s name or the fact she was dead would send me into a crying jag. I couldn’t believe I had glossed right over it. It was as easy to talk about as the diner and what we ate. Did this mean I was finally getting through the grief?

“You okay?” he asked with concern.

I nodded. “Yeah, I was thinking about how easy it was to talk about my visit to Talia’s grave. I didn’t cry for once,” I said, with a smile.

He nodded. “Good. Sometimes you will. Don’t beat yourself up over it. I’m telling you, grief is a bitch. It is sneaky and will attack you when you least expect it.”

I smiled, appreciating his words of wisdom. “What did you do this weekend?” I asked, not wanting to make the conversation all about me.

He smirked. “I went to a barbecue with my brother.”

“Uh-oh. It didn’t go well?” I asked, noticing the pained look on his face.

“I think it could have gone better, but it wasn’t terrible. It’s been a long time since I sat around in someone’s backyard, drinking beer and making small talk,” he explained.

“You did know the people, right?” I asked.

“Oh, yeah. I’ve known most of them for twenty years or more, but, well, after the accident, I stopped hanging out with them. People change. Or maybe they stayed the same, and I changed,” he said with a sigh. “I don’t know that I’ll ever enjoy those things again.”