Page 115 of Fake it for Keeps

“It destroyed him. Completely shattered him. He couldn’t eat, couldn’t sleep, couldn’t function for months. And when he finally pulled himself together, he swore he’d never let himself love anyone like that again. Because losing Lauren almost killed him.”

I was openly sobbing now, my legs barely holding me up.

“So he spent his life building walls,” Frankie continued, tears streaming down her own face. “Sleeping with women he didn’t care about. Keeping everyone at arm’s length. Protecting himself from ever feeling that kind of pain again.”

“Frankie, I didn’t know.”

“And then you came along.” Her voice turned bitter. “And somehow, you got through those walls. You made him believe it was safe to love again. You made him think maybe he deserved happiness. Maybe he could have a future with someone.”

“I do love him.”

“Do you?” Frankie stepped closer, her expression hard. “Because from where I’m standing, you’re just like all the others. You’re a user. A liar. Someone who saw my brother as a target instead of a person.”

“That’s not fair. I changed.”

“When, Hallie? When did you change? Before or after you got what you wanted? Before or after you made him fall in love with you?”

I couldn’t answer. Because I didn’t know. I couldn’t pinpoint the exact moment when revenge had stopped mattering and Colt had become everything.

“I warned him,” Frankie said, her bottom lip trembling. “I told him to be careful. That you might hurt him. But he gave you the benefit of the doubt. He said you had history, that you’d been honest with him about high school, that he thought you had real feelings for him.”

“I do have real feelings. Yes, at first that feeling was anger, but now it’s love.”

“No, you’re like all the others,” Frankie said. “You wanted something from him, and you were willing to lie and manipulate to get it. And now I have to pick up the pieces again. I have to convince him that he does deserve good things. That not everyone is out to hurt him. Before the hole in his chest eats him alive.”

She moved past me toward the exit, then turned back.

“You are a heartless bitch, Hallie Bellrose,” she said quietly. “I hope whatever you were planning to get out of this was worth it.”

She left, and I stood there in the bathroom feeling like I might collapse.

My phone was ringing. I pulled it out with shaking hands.

My mother.

I couldn’t talk to her. Not right now.

I let it go to voicemail.

Then Hallie called. Then April.

I needed to get out of here. Needed to go somewhere I could think, could breathe, could figure out what to do next. I hailed a cab and gave the driver my apartment address, but halfway there I changed my mind.

“Actually, can you take me to Penn Station?”

I needed to get out of the city. Away from everything. Away from the scene of the crime.

The driver shrugged and changed course. At Penn Station, I bought a ticket on the next train to the Hamptons and sat in the waiting area with my hood pulled up, avoiding eye contact with everyone.

My phone kept buzzing. Message after message. Call after call.

Finally, I looked. And my heart stopped. Because someone had leaked the news.

The wedding was off.

Colt had released a statement through his PR team: Due to unforeseen circumstances, Colt Jesson and Hallie Bellrose have decided to call off their engagement. We ask for privacy during this difficult time.

The internet had exploded.