His Fake Fiancee: BBW Romance (Fake it For Me)

The doctor had gone over her grandfather’s diagnosis of mesothelioma that was found in his heart when he had the double bypass. Santos had declined further medical intervention.

“This is why he kept talking about when he was gone.”

Now she is sobbing. “I’m all alone now. I stopped telling him if he left he would leave me alone. Now I’m alone.”

“No, you aren’t. I’m not going anywhere, not now, not ever. Neither are you, love.” Fuck, she cries harder. This isn’t the time or the place. I pick her up and take her home.

***

Christina

Time passes in a haze over the next few weeks. I eat when Ivan puts food in front of me, I sleep when Ivan puts me in bed. Half the time I don’t even dress myself. Without Ivan I don’t know what I would have done. He took care of the funeral, the headstone, the sale of the house, even cleaning out the house—he had everything packed and put into storage until I was ready to go through it all.

I haven’t gone to work and oddest of all, neither has Ivan. I’m aware when he puts me down for a nap in the afternoon he doesn’t lie in bed with me after I fall asleep. He went from not allowing Coco into our bedroom to putting her in my arms to help me sleep in the afternoon. I think that’s when he might be working, but when I wake up he’s right beside me.

I try hard to pull out of it, and Ivan does what he can, having Elise, Lydia, and Anna visit me individually, then one evening all three. As badly as I want to, though, I can’t seem to let go. The pain, the guilt, it’s all too much to face so I smile and I laugh, and when they leave I float back into the haze again.

It’s the breast pain that shakes me out of it. I would swear someone is taking a wrench to a nipple and twisting as if they were trying to get me to confess. Sonofabitch. The last few weeks I’ve been in pain, but a dull, hazy pain, not this sharp, angry one. Without thinking I press a hand to my breast to try and stop it.

Holy crap, I’m pregnant. I am up an entire cup size. How the hell can it happen so fast? It could only be a few weeks, right? Then I remember, I had been in Ivan’s office sharing my disappointment I started my period. Trying to put it down to going without sex, not that I was sad I wasn’t yet pregnant. Especially when I had been wondering if I might be. I hadn’t felt the normal symptoms of my period, but there were small spots of blood that caught me completely off guard. So I put in a tampon then went to tell Ivan, I wasn’t pregnant. Then the phone rang and my world felt like it imploded.

But...that night, when I was getting ready for bed, I went to change the tampon. Only to see there was no blood—well, a few drops, but nothing like what I thought it was. I put another tampon in, not wanting to be caught without one in the middle of the night. Then again the next morning, nothing. I took out the tampon and didn’t replace it, just went with a panty liner. I never needed one again.

Thank god, Ivan walks into the bathroom while I’m trying to not freak out. “What’s the matter?”

I’m in his arms immediately. “I think I’m pregnant,” I mumble. A tiny part of me is worried.

His smile is pure joy, it’s the sun after weeks of rain and cold. “I know.”

What? “How could you know before me?”

“Because, my love, it’s been obvious for weeks. I talked to Elise and she thinks you are anywhere from eight to ten weeks along.” The hand covering my stomach is gentle. “I’ve been wanting to get you in to see a doctor, but you didn’t seem ready yet.”

The worry he can’t hide shocks me, drags me into the stark, harsh reality of what my need to hide has done. To him, to me, to our baby. I cover his hand with mine. “I am so sorry. You didn’t deserve any of this. I don’t deserve how amazing you have been—”

“Christina, it’s okay—”

“No, Ivan, it isn’t okay. I was hiding from the guilt and the pain of losing Abuelo, and it’s bullshit the way I let you pick up the pieces and take care of me when you needed me just as much. Our baby needed me, and I’m sorry—”

His mouth is on mine and oh god, he’s sweet, strong, taking me over. I give him everything he demands.

I’m in his arms on our bed, and I can’t stop touching him. We’ve made love, gentle, quiet, sweet love, but it was a part of the haze too, almost a dream. Now it’s so very real again.

“There are no rules for grief, love, no playbook to go by. What you needed is what you needed. Do not apologize. I needed to take care of you and I did. Our baby is just fine. You’ve been on all the prenatal things you needed to be on for months. I’ve been in contact with the best OB/GYN in the city and she can fit us in for an early morning appointment as soon as you’re ready.”

“For months? How have I been on...you planned all of this?” I realize in wonder, as I see the smug look on his face.

“Of course I did. You were trying my patience. I had asked you to be my woman, you had my ring on your finger, yet you were just using me for my body. I was determined to put my baby inside you to tie us together until the day we died.”

“Ivan, you beautiful, brilliant idiot. I have loved you from the moment I met you. If you had ever told me that you loved me, I would have gladly let you know I was never going anywhere until the day we died.”

He caresses my cheek, all the love he feels glowing in his eyes. “Love, I’ve been showing you since the day I put my cock inside your gorgeous body and knew I was never going to let you go.”

I see it so clearly now, the truth of his words. “Sometimes the words work too.”

“I’ll remember in the future, in our next fifty years together.”

“Just fifty? I think we can do better than that.”