The Fake Engagement

Instead, he left his home, locking the door behind him, and began to walk back to the house.

It was dark. He didn’t know when night had fallen, but as he entered his home, his father came out of his office.

“Ah, Preston, you’re back.”

“Have you seen Eliza?” he asked.

“She is out with the ladies. Your mother decided she needed a girls’ night on the town. She got all the women together, and Eliza didn’t even have time to breathe before she was swept up in it all. You know how your mother is.”

He laughed. “Yep, once she gets an idea of something, that is it. You either go along for the ride or get out of the way.” He smiled just thinking about it. His mother was a force to be reckoned with.

“Come and have a drink with me,” Greg said.

Preston walked into his father’s office and collapsed down into the chair.

“Rough day?”

“You could say that.”

“Do you want to tell me about it?” Greg asked, pouring out a glass of whiskey.

There was no way he could tell his father anything.

“Eliza and I had a … disagreement is all,” he said.

“Ah, to be young, in love, and at each other’s throats.”

“You make that sound like a good thing. Isn’t that a bad thing?”

“Depends on how you view it. Your mother and I always had our disagreements, but nothing ever got in the way of our love for each other.” Greg smiled. “I’m not going to get into the details.”

“Please, don’t. There is only so much I can handle about my parents. I accepted you had sex enough times to create your kids, but that is it.”

“Just think, when you have children of your own someday, you get to be the gross one.”

Preston lifted his glass, but he didn’t take a snip. “Dad, how did you convince Mom you were in love with her?”

“There was no need to convince her. She knew every single day of her life since we were ten. Told her every single day.”

“And to tell her you loved her wasn’t hard?”

Greg squinted and pursed his lips. “What are you trying to ask me, son? Have you never told Eliza that you love her?”

“Of course I have.” The lie was easy, but the feeling afterward wasn’t something he liked at all. “I haven’t told her in a little while.”

“Then, son, you need to change that. The key to a happy marriage is to swallow your pride and admit you’re wrong. To listen. To be there for her. You have got to go and tell your girl right this second that she is yours, and have no doubt about it.”

Preston didn’t get off his ass. He stared into his glass, thinking it was figuratively speaking.

The whiskey was taken from him, and within seconds, he was nudged out of the door.

Chapter Seventeen

“Okay, you’re surrounded by amazing music, good food and beer, amazing company, and you look like someone has just told you your imaginary dog has died,” Mackenzie said.

“What gives?” Juliet asked.

Eliza looked up from her beer.

The other women were on the dance floor, dancing it up. She wanted to be on the dance floor. Instead, she was staring at her beer and thinking about Preston.

“It’s nothing. Go on. Go and dance.”

Her friends each shared a look and Eliza sighed.

“It’s nothing, okay? I am fine. There’s nothing for you to worry about. Go and have some fun. Dance it up. Please. I will join you when I can.”

“Nope,” Juliet said.

“Not happening,” Mackenzie said.

“We’re here until you can come and dance. Not a moment later,” Juliet said, tipping the bottle against her lips. “This place is solid though.”

Eliza smiled.

“Tell us what’s going on,” Mackenzie said. “You wouldn’t talk to us this morning.”

“And you have been deep in avoiding,” Juliet said. “We can’t help you unless you tell us everything.”

She took a deep breath. “It’s not anything bad. At least, I don’t think it is entirely bad, but I don’t know. I’m not exactly the best judge of character when it comes to Preston.”

“So your boss is the one who is making you sad?” Mackenzie asked.

“It’s not him. Have you seen our mothers? They’re organizing a wedding. You guys are here, and you know I love you both, but you know what it means.” She sighed and dropped her head to the table. “Ugh, it feels sticky.” She sat up and grabbed a napkin, rubbing at her temple. “I’m not drinking another thing. I refuse to.”

“I’ll go and order you a soda,” Mackenzie said, already slipping off her stool and heading to the bar.

“Do you think you should come clean?” Juliet asked.

“I don’t know. Preston … he wants to get married.”

“He does?”

“I don’t know if I can do that. Live the lie.”

“Look, babe, I love you, but sometimes you don’t see everything going on around you. Have you ever considered that maybe it’s not a lie?” Juliet asked.