Annika is quiet for a moment. When she speaks again, her voice has lost its edge.
“Look, I’m not trying to be an asshole about this.” A sigh. “I just... I watched what Viktor did to you. How long it took you to start trusting yourself again. And now you’re telling me you’re falling for another dangerous man, and I’m nine thousand miles away, and I can’t—” She stops. Swallows. “I can’t protect you from here.”
Tears prick at my eyes. This is what’s underneath her pushing. Not judgment. Fear.
“He’s not Viktor,” I say quietly.
“You thought Viktor wasn’t Viktor, too. In the beginning.”
It stings, because she’s not wrong.
I turn back to the screen. “So what do I do? Never trust anyone again? Assume every man is lying?”
“No.” She shakes her head slowly. “That’s not—” Another sigh, and I watch her wrestle with something. “What’s he actually done, Sierra? Not his words. His actions.”
I stop and really think about it.
“He taught me to shoot. Self-defense. He’s teaching me to ride a motorcycle.” I’m ticking things off, almost to myself. “He bought me a helmet before he’d let me near the bike. He walks on the street side of the sidewalk. He told me about his past, things he’s never told anyone. He...” I trail off, remembering last night. The way his voice cracked. The way he shuddered when I held him. “He didn’t have to do that. He chose to.”
Annika is quiet, watching me.
“He’s never raised his voice at me. Never made me feel stupid. Never tried to control where I go or who I talk to.” I meet her eyes through the camera. “He’s consistent, Annika. Every day, he’s the same person. Viktor was whoever he needed to be to get what he wanted.”
She absorbs this. I can see her turning it over, the worry still there but something else too. Something like reluctant hope.
“Okay,” she finally says.
“Okay?”
“Maybe he’s not a walking red flag.” A small smile tugs at her mouth. “The bar is low, but it sounds like he’s clearing it.”
A breath of relief escapes me. “So you don’t think I’m being an idiot?”
“Oh, you’re definitely being an idiot.” The smile breaks through fully now. “But maybe the acceptable kind of idiot. The kind that might actually work out.”
I laugh, and it comes out watery. “I wish you could be here. To meet him.”
“Me too. Damn work won’t let me take time off with this little notice.” She picks up her curling iron again. “But you better video me into the ceremony.”
“I will. I promise.”
“And Sierra?” Her eyes go serious one last time. “If he hurts you, I will fly to Vegas and kill him myself. Fake marriage or not.”
I believe her completely.
“I love you,” I manage around the tightness in my throat.
“I know.” She grins, and just like that, she’s my irreverent best friend again. “I love you too, you absolute disaster.”
I grin as she blows me a kiss, and then the screen goes dark.
My reflection stares back at me, rumpled hair and uncertain eyes.
Am I falling for Matteo?
The answer is already there.
Has been for a while, maybe. I’m falling for my fake fiancé. And I have no idea if he’s falling too.
