“I guess what we’re doing is being married.” “For how long?” “I don’t know that people usually plan that type of thing.” I swallow. “Right. But this marriage…it’s fake.” Her head tilts as she regards me with a tight smile and narrowed gaze. “That’s funny. It doesn’t feel very fake to me.” Air rushes from my lungs. It’s like I didn’t even realize how badly I needed to hear that from her. But there’s an echo of hurt in her eyes that makes me feel guilty for calling this thing between us fake. Because I know better. So I face her head-on and tell her the secret I’ve been keeping for weeks now.
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