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“Why?”
But he just shakes his head, lips pressed into a thin line. “Because it's necessary,” he says. “But don’t worry, it’s fake.”
“You want me to be your fake fiancée?” Somehow, that makes less sense than him asking me to marry him... and it hurts more. He doesn't actually want me; he wants something from me. I guess I should have expected this from him. Clearly, he never really changed.
He doesn't answer.
“Why should I do this?” I ask, anger filling me.
His gaze ticks to mine. “Think about the flower shop contract.”
My breath catches and my heart stops beating. “How do you know about that?” My voice is little more than a painful whisper. Suspicion curls inside me, cold and unwelcome.
“Because I made it happen.” His flat voice tells me this is not a joke. But why would he- “It goes through if you agree to this fake marriage.”
His words feel like a punch to the gut. What is so important he has to fake a marriage? And why can’t I be the important thing in his life for once?
“Fredrick...” His name is a whisper of disbelief on my lips.
He’s manipulating strings in my life that I didn’t even know he held. Every time I think more about what he’s done and doing, my life tumbles head over heels, leaving me gasping for air... and for the truth. What’s real and what’s fake?
Shock courses through me, freezing the blood in my veins. “Why?” The single word is broken, painful. But inside, I feel sharp and cold, dead.
Fredrick doesn't flinch. “I secured the contract for you,” he says, every word deliberate as his eyes never leave mine. “But it's contingent on us.”
My dreams vanish in a puff of smoke. The deal was my lifeline; now it feels more like a noose. My brother Alex’s medical bills pile up by the day, and my flower shop’s future hangs by a thread. This contract was supposed to fix everything, not add to my growing list of worries.
“It's an opportunity, Lila. And it’s not like we don’t feel something for one another.” He reaches out, but I recoil before his fingers can graze my skin. What a disgusting thing to say.
“You wouldn't like it if I told you what I feel for you right now,” I say.
“Hate is a strong emotion, like love.” His eyes narrow with his words, and I want to slap him. How dare he mess with my life after leaving all those years ago? I’d gotten free of him, healed from the hurt he put me through. And here he is again, hurting me in new, more impressive ways.
“I wish you’d stayed gone. Get out.” The words burn my throat that nearly chokes me.
But then, the image of my mother, Grace, hooked to machines in the hospital floods back. Her heart, fragile and failing, brings tears to my eyes. I needed support. I needed someone I can trust. But he’s none of those things.
“Let me stay,” he says. “Let me be here while you need me.”
I shake my head, my resolve weakening. As if he can see that, he moves closer. “You don’t have to be alone. I’m here.”
But at what cost? Not telling him no feels like surrender. But I'm too tired to fight—fight him, fight life, fight the inevitable. I need to do what’s best for me, and maybe the truth is looking me in the face.
“Ground rules,” I say suddenly, intent on regaining some semblance of control. “If we're doing this, we do it my way. No more lies, no more games.”
A slight smile tugs the corners of his lips. “Agreed.”
He’s not winning this time. “And you won't break my heart again, Fredrick. Not ever.” I'm not asking—I'm demanding.
“Never,” he vows, but I know better than to believe him.
“Fine,” I say. A fake fiancée, a sham marriage, all to save what truly matters in my life, my flower shop, my brother, my family. Screw him. If he wants to use me, let him think he is.
I want to sink into my bed as my body still trembles from Fredrick's touch. But the warmth is fleeting, replaced by a cold sense of self-loathing. How did I let it come to this? Worse, how did I not see what he was doing?
“Let's talk about the wedding,” he says, breaking through my thoughts.
I can't meet his gaze. “What's there to discuss?” I’m tired and should be sleeping. My mom almost died. My sister ran away. My life has turned upside down, and I’m exhausted.
