Derek’s hand on my back felt calming yet overwhelming. My brain was still hazy with the orgasm, and I wanted to make sure that I wasn’t overthinking our?—
“For the divorce,” he finally said, his eyes not meeting mine. “We can show them how serious we are and the case?—”
“Okay,” I said, my hand tightening on the velvet box. “From fake dating to… fake engagement. I understand.”
I stood up from his lap, feeling cold and empty. I kept the box on the desk and excused myself to his office washroom. I felt naked and vulnerable.
Was it all a lie? No, if it was, Charlotte wouldn’t let him continue this knowing we could get hurt.
But this felt like it… hurt. My heart ached, and I didn’t know why tears were streaming down my face.
“Paige?” Derek’s worried voice was muffled through the door. “Are you okay?”
No.
“Yeah, I’m fine.”
I stared at myself in the mirror and wondered what the hell I was thinking? That he would end the contract and make it real? He’s a lawyer! Why would he do that?
I exhaled and calmed myself.
If we pretend to get engaged, finalize the divorce, then no one has to get hurt. We will end the fake engagement and then…
Then what?
I work with him. He’s my friend… my best friend. What am I gonna do without him?
Maybe I’ll move back home with my parents. They miss Lily anyway.
Won’t Lily miss him?
I shook my head and took a deep breath.
I’ll figure it out. I always do.
The engagement photos went live at noon.
Derek, my fake fiancé, had hired a professional photographer, and the shots were perfect. Too perfect with him down on one knee at sunset in his penthouse, the city skyline gleaming behind us. Me with my hand over my mouth, tears in my eyes that felt real for all the wrong reasons.
Within an hour, we were trending with hashtags like #PetersonEngaged then #SheLandedHim and also, #PowerCouple.
I rolled my eyes at the comments. None of them knew how fake and staged it was. No one should trust social media.
At work, it felt far worse than being judged on the internet for landing Derek. I didn’t know most of the people online, but at work, I knew their pet dog’s name, their wedding anniversary, so it hurt more.
I felt the stares when I walked through the office on Monday morning and heard the whispers that cut off the moment I passed.
I kept my head down, focused on my work, and tried to be a professional assistant. But everything feels different now. Like I had crossed some invisible line and could never go back.
Maybe that’s why Derek had suggested I resign. Take a leave of absence, at least, until after the divorce was finalized. I had refused because I needed to feel like I was still me and not just Derek’s fake fiancée.
But now I wondered if he had been trying to protect me or protect himself.
I was in the break room making coffee when I heard them.
Two paralegals from the third floor, Sara and Maya, were talking in low voices by the vending machines. They didn’t see me behind the coffee station, partially hidden by the industrial-sized machine.
“I mean, the timing is convenient, right?” Sara’s voice dripped with disbelief. “She ‘discovers’ the affair and immediately moves in with the hottest bachelor in the city?”
