The words slice clean through me.
Not right?
Like we’re a mismatched set of furniture rather than a couple. Or at least as far as he’s concerned, being that he doesn’t know we’re faking it.
‘So stay and enjoy the wedding. Have fun together. But understand this relationship can’t be forever.’
Something inside me finally breaks. Not with tears or rage, just a splintering deep down.
I don’t trust myself to speak, so I turn and walk out.
Roman follows me until I stop outside my room, leaning heavily against the wall and wanting to tear my stupid, smoothed hair out.
‘I’m sorry about your dad.’
‘I’m sorry I dragged you into all of this.’ I force out a broken laugh. One that says I’m very muchnot okay. ‘Good thing it’s a fake relationship, right?’
The way Roman flinches makes me regret the words almost as soon as they tumble from my mouth.
‘Yeah,’ he sighs.
But the look on his face is like I’ve just kicked him straight between the legs.
TWENTY-SIX
ROMAN
Maggie returnsto the wedding preparations reluctantly, likely avoiding the awkwardness that’s settled between us after her confrontation with Evan.
I end up downstairs with Fraser. I don’t have anywhere else to be. A spare part, as usual.
Fraser is leaning against the window with a glass of some liquor that probably costs more than my bike, staring out at the grounds. Tattoos etch across his arms, making his white shirt look like a colouring book. He stands out amongst the polished wealth almost as much as I, though in an entirely different way.
‘You look rough,’ he says.
‘Good morning to you too,’ I reply.
‘You fall asleep in a hedge or something?’
‘Chance would be a fine thing.’
We drink in silence for a bit. Rather than it being awkward, it’s like neither of us is in any rush to fill thequiet with idle chatter. I don’t hate it. Being a single child, I’ve often wondered what it might be like to have siblings. To have at least one other person who’s known you forever. Someone else who could have shared my grief. But maybe they would have left me, too.
Fraser shifts his weight.
‘So you’re really into Maggie, right?’
I can’t help but wonder if Eddie’s filled him in on my online persona. ‘Yeah.’
He narrows his eyes. ‘I don’t get it.’
‘I’m not sure you’re supposed to. She’s your sister.’
‘The two of you don’t make sense. I work out, I can tell you do. I don’t think that Maggie has run for anything other than the bus since she was born. She loves to knit weird jumpers with dogs on them, and actually wears them. You are too clean-cut. I expected her to come home with a fellow nerd. You look like someone Eliza would date. For a night, at least. I don’t get why you’re here.’
There’s no hint of mean in his voice. He sounds genuinely confused, like the idea of Maggie and me together is an insurmountable mystery.
Which is fucking rude.
