Page 45 of Put a Rink on It

That’s not the case anymore, and if she can forgive me for not telling her about being—fake—engaged to Nero, I want her to be a part of my wedding like I’m in hers.

I decide to go for a fraction of the truth.

“Look, he sprung the whole engagement on me, too. I was content with where our relationship was, but then he went and planned an elaborate proposal, and I couldn’t say no. Even though no one knew we were together, I couldn’t turn him down.”

“See, blame me,” Nero calls out over the phone. “Also, give me three hours. Talk later.”

“Uh, bye,” I say to the dead line.

“What happens in three hours?” Juliet asks, beginning her pacing again.

“Knowing him, he’ll be here.”

As soon as the words leave my mouth, I know without a doubt that’s what he means. Because he’s not one to leave this on me. Not when he’s the root cause of it.

Juliet’s eyes widen. “Just like that, he’ll be here?”

I shrug. “A two-hour car ride, give or take, seems like nothing for the man. I’m not complaining.”

“Is the sex good? I bet it is.” Before I can come up with a response—another lie unless I dig deep into the recesses of my time in college—she pouts. “I don’t want to know. I’m still mad.”

“What’s it going to take to get you unmad?”

She giggles. “Unmad? I don’t think that’s a thing.”

“Made you laugh.”

She pauses, contemplating my comment. “Huh. So it did.” She shakes her head. “Still. Mad.”

I try a different angle, wondering what she’s doing here in the middle of a Monday. “What did you come over for?”

“I went out for a walk on my lunch break to clear my head. When I realized I was on your street, I figured I’d stop in and say hi. And ask for water.”

I hop from the couch for the kitchen and pour us each a glass of water. It’s the least I can do. “What time do you need to be back at work?”

Accepting the water with a head bob, she states, “I have a client meeting late tonight, so I shifted my hours. But I should probably get walking home.” Despite voicing the words, she slouches onto the couch, making herself comfortable. She can’t stay mad long. “I want to know more.”

“About Nero and me?”

“Duh. How long have you been together? How’d he propose? What kind of wedding are you going to have?”

I grab my phone and pull up the video of the proposal he shared with me. I’ve already watched it several times, and every time, I find something new to love.

How he nailed the details I spewed the first time we talked about it.

How, despite the cold and us wearing winter coats and hats, I’ve never felt more gorgeous than when he looked at me.

How I wish, deep down, there was an inkling of truth to it.

This time, I’m nervous about Juliet’s reaction. Will she see through the facade of it and deduce I’m lying again? An icky feeling invades my stomach. I knew there’d be consequences for our actions, but I wasn’t prepared for them so quickly. I also didn’t anticipate the depth of guilt at deceiving the people I love. This is so much bigger than when I hid Nero’s and my friendship.

This is life-altering.

And it’s all fake.

I’m stuck in my head until Juliet breaks the silence with, “Aww. That guy loves you. Something I’ve been telling you for years. Guess you finally believe it now.”

It’s my turn to be shocked.