I could feel something cold spreading through my chest, but I kept my voice steady because that’s what I did. I stayed calm. I was reasonable. I didn’t make scenes.
“So your solution,” I said, “is to bring my sister as your fake wife to a reunion full of people I’ll never meet, and I’m supposed to just be okay with that.”
Damen reached across the table and grabbed my hand like he was comforting me through my own confusion.
“It’s one night,”
he said, squeezing my fingers.
“Nobody will ever know. These people don’t matter. I’ll make it up to you. I promise. We’ll do a nice dinner after. Just us. Whatever restaurant you want.”
He smiled at me with those blue eyes that used to make my stomach flip.
And I realized something that should have been obvious years ago.
He thought I was stupid. He thought I was so desperate to keep him happy that I’d agree to anything if he just promised me a nice dinner afterward.
And the worst part? He was probably right. He’d been training me to accept less since the day we met.
“I don’t know, Damen,” I said, and I watched his face change from charm to irritation in half a second. “It just feels weird. Why can’t you just tell them the truth?”
He pulled his hand back.
“Because I’ve been lying for ten years, Carissa. What am I supposed to say now? Hey guys, funny story—I actually married her boring older sister who works all the time. That’s humiliating.”
Boring. Older. Works all the time.
