Fake Marriage Box Set

“I don't really want to cuddle tonight, no,” Andrew said. He really sounded distracted; his mind was clearly elsewhere.

“Okay,” I said, feeling something inside of me shatter at his words.

Sure, it was just one night away from one another. It would be nice to stretch out in my own bed and not have to worry that I was stealing too much of the blankets or that I was too far over on his side of the bed.

But even though I wanted to believe that this was only one night apart, something had clearly happened, and I had zero idea what it was. If I didn’t know what the problem was, I couldn’t begin to figure out how to fix it. Maybe he'd just grown tired of me.

I started towards the stairs, trying not to trip over my feet, feeling the tears already starting to spill over.

“Lexi, wait,” Andrew said, catching my wrist and pulling me back towards him. He ran a hand back through his hair. “We need to talk.”

“Did something bad happen at work?” I asked, hoping that would explain this scary outburst of his. Maybe that would be the end of it, and we could go back to some semblance of normal.

But if anything, Andrew just looked more agitated. “People are always trying to take advantage of me in my business,” he said. “Whether because they think that I'm young and inexperienced or because they're just blindly after my money, they think they can just walk all over me.” He paused and then said, weighing the words significantly, “But people try to take advantage of me in my personal life, too.”

“What do you mean by that?” I asked, starting to feel a little scared.

I knew that I was taking advantage of him, but I had thought that this was okay. He'd asked for us to stay for a few months while he and I figured out our relationship, after all. And he'd set up Emma's room so that it was perfect for a little girl. Anyway, if he didn't want us there, I thought he was going to help us move out. He knew that I didn't have any money. I still didn't have a job.

Andrew grabbed a manila folder off the table by the door and thrust it towards me, wordlessly watching as I opened it up.

It was a DNA test.

I gaped at it and then turned my eyes towards Andrew, wondering when he'd decided to get the paternity test done after all, and why he hadn't told me about it. Did he think that I would have minded? I totally understood if he felt like he had to get one done. After all, I was asking a lot, asking him to take us in like this, and I knew that someone in his position, with his billions, needed to worry about girls trying to take advantage of him.

The words on the paper swirled in front of me, making it difficult to read them. But I didn't need to read them. Andrew told me all that I needed to know about them a moment later.

“As you'll notice, that DNA test shows conclusively that I am not Emma's father,” Andrew said, his voice dark and dangerous. “Now what I want to know is, were you actually trying to con me, or did you really not know that she is someone else's child?”

I stared down at the results, feeling bile rise in the back of my throat. But the results made no sense. Emma was his daughter. There was no way that she could be anyone else's daughter. The timing didn't make sense, and anyway, I'd seen pictures of Katherine when she was a kid. There were a couple of them around Andrew's house. The two girls could have been twins.

But even beyond that, the timing of it all. I had already told him I wasn't the kind of person to sleep around. Misty could vouch for me, too. She'd known who the father was as soon as I'd told her I was pregnant, without trying to count the months or anything. Emma had to be his child. It was physically impossible for her to be someone else's.

“Andrew, I don't know who you got this from, but it's not true,” I said, wishing my voice sounded stronger

, that I spoke with a little more conviction. But it was hard just getting the words out. I occurred to me that I wasn't breathing right, and that I felt faint.

“You don't think those documents look legitimate?” Andrew asked, a sneer on his face. “With the signatures and the legal stamps and everything else? You think that I've just made this all up? If I wanted you out of my life, all I had to do was tell you to get out. I could pay you to get out, rather than paying no-doubt extraordinary amounts of money to get someone to fabricate a legal document for me.”

It did look official. That was true. But the words on the paper baffled me. “There must have been some sort of mix-up. Maybe they accidentally used the wrong sample. Those things can happen, can't they? And it’s not like you took Emma to the lab for someone to collect her DNA. Whatever sample you used, it might have been compromised.” A desperate note had crept into my voice, but I didn't care how I sounded at that moment. I just needed him to realize the truth.

Surely, he wouldn't just kick us out, would he? Me maybe, but not Emma, right? Where would we go? Emma was already asleep for the night. How would I explain to her that the room that she'd been calling her own for weeks now was no longer hers? That we were no longer living there and that she was never again going to see the man who she'd been calling Daddy?

Then, something else from the documents caught my eye. “Hang on,” I said, shaking my head. “Andrew, even if the DNA test is true, even if Emma isn't your daughter, I've never been arrested for fraud. I swear on that one. I've never even gotten a speeding ticket!”

Andrew narrowed his eyes at me. “If you're not telling the truth,” he said warningly, leaving the threat hanging between us.

I burst into tears. This was all too much for me. “Is this some sort of test?” I wailed. “Andrew, I swear to you, I swear to you, I've never been arrested. You don't have to believe me about Emma, but don't kick us out, please. Not tonight. Not when Emma's already in bed. Please.”

Andrew looked pale and unhappy, but his mouth set into a firm line. “I'm not going to kick you out,” he said slowly. “But I am going to go stay at a hotel for a few days. I know that none of this is Emma's fault, whatever it is that you've done in the past. And I want to believe you. I want to believe that she's mine and that I can trust you. But I just don't know what to believe anymore.”

“Where did you even get this from?” I asked, shaking the documents. “I just don't understand.”

“That's private,” Andrew said, shaking his head. He moved past me towards the stairs. “I'm going to pack a bag. Please don't call me while I'm gone.”

“Don't leave,” I begged, reaching for him. “Please. I'm sure we can talk this through. I'm sure we can figure it out. Just tell me where you got this information from, please. I swear it isn't true. Emma's your daughter. You know that. You have to feel that. Please.”

I sobbed uncontrollably. I was shaking. But Andrew was cold and distant. He brushed away my reaching hands. It was just like he'd been the morning after that first night. He wanted nothing more to do with me. What I didn't understand is how we had gotten to this point. I had thought that things were going so well between us. And now, this.