“You’re acting like there’s more to this than just your parents visiting. What’s really going on?”
He hesitates, clearly debating how much to share. “Carson called last night after I dropped you off. There are some… questions being raised online.”
“What kind of questions?”
“About us. About whether our engagement is real.”
My stomach drops. “What do you mean?”
“Social media posts, YouTube videos, that kind of thing. People are analyzing our body language, questioning the timeline of our relationship, speculating about whether this is all a publicity stunt.”
I set down my coffee cup with hands that aren’t quite steady. “How many people?”
“Not many yet. But these things can snowball quickly if they gain traction.”
“And if they do gain traction?”
He meets my eyes directly. “Then we’re both screwed. My reputation would be destroyed, and you’d be branded as my accomplice in deceiving the public.”
The weight of what he’s saying settles over me like a heavy blanket. This isn’t just about a business deal anymore. This is about both our futures, both our reputations, both our lives.
“So what do we do?”
“We need to be more convincing. More public displays of affection, more evidence that this is real.” Ben’s voice is carefully neutral, but I can see the stress in his expression. “Carson thinks we need to be inseparable for the next few weeks.”
Inseparable. More time together, more pretending, more opportunities to forget that this isn’t real and fall deeper into feelings I’m supposed to be managing.
Great.
“Freya, I know this isn’t what you signed up for?—”
“No, it’s fine.” I interrupt him because I can hear the guilt in his voice, and I can’t handle that right now. “We’ll figure it out. We’ll be more convincing.”
“Are you sure? Because if you want out?—”
“I don’t want out.” The words come out more forcefully than I intended. “I made a commitment, and I’m going to honor it.”
He studies my face for a long moment. “You seem different lately. Distant. If something’s wrong?—”
“Nothing’s wrong.” I force a smile that feels like it might crack my face. “I’m just tired. Wedding planning is exhausting, and the attention is still weird for me.”
“The attention will die down eventually. After the wedding, when people lose interest in our story.”
After the wedding. Right. When we’ll be legally married but still playing roles in an elaborate performance.
“Ben, can I ask you something?”
“Of course.”
“Do you ever feel bad about lying to everyone? Your parents, my sister, Red and Marnie, all those people who think we’re some great love story?”
He’s quiet for a long moment, considering the question. “Sometimes,” he admits finally. “But then I remind myself that everyone’s getting what they want. Red gets a business partner he trusts, my investors see me as stable and committed, and your sister gets to be excited about your wedding. No one’s really being hurt by this.”
Except me, I want to say. I’m being hurt by this every single day, watching the man I love treat our relationship like a business transaction while everyone around us celebrates our perfect romance.
But I don’t say that. Instead, I nod like his logic makes perfect sense.
“You’re probably right.”
