Page 112 of A Simple Reminder
Isn’t that what we all strive for? To find someone who makes us feel invincible, supported, and completely seen? Fake or not, I’d be with him for real.
“Okay,” I whisper, tilting my head up to look at him again. A small smile tugs at the corners of my lips, and he mirrors it, his eyes lighting up with relief, he’s probably thinking I’m agreeing to take time to consider.
But that’s not what I mean.
I rise onto my tiptoes, cupping his face, and kiss him softly. “Okay, I’ll getfakeengaged to you, Liam Ayoub.” He blinks, shocked for a split second before a slow, wicked grin spreads across his face. “Sunshine,there’s nothing fake about this.”
I shrug playfully, my heart fluttering at the way his gaze softens and his possessive hands tighten their hold on me. “You’re stuck with me now.”
His laugh rumbles through his chest, and he leans down to kiss me again, this time deeper, more deliberate. ”Sunshine,” he murmurs against my lips, “I’d take that option over anything in the world.”
And then—just as I start to sink into him, into this moment that feels terrifyingly real—he says it.
“I love you.”
FORTY-THREE
LIAM
She fell asleep in my arms, her body curled against mine. It’s exactly like life should be. I’ve been watching the slow rise and fall of her chest, mesmerized, almost overwhelmed. Having her here, next to me, feels like a privilege I don’t deserve, and the weight of it sits heavy in my chest. She’s too good for me. Too bright, too kind, too damn perfect.
But I’m not a selfless man. I’m not the kind of man who lets go of something this rare, this precious.
No, never.
I hate that she’s in this position. When I walked into her apartment and saw her face, part of me shattered into a thousand pieces. She looked completely helpless—vulnerable and lost. The tears that streamed down her cheeks gutted me. I felt so helpless and angry at myself for not shielding her from this in the first place.
The thought of losing her again, of her being pushed to the brink because of this mess, is unbearable. To think she might have felt even an ounce of doubt in herself because of those disgusting headlines or the whispers of people who don’t know her worth—it’s enough to send my blood boiling.
For a split second, I contemplated going out and finding every single person responsible for any pain she’s ever felt, making them feel the weight of my rage. But that wouldn’t fix this. It wouldn’t ease her suffering. And for this woman, I’d do anything. I’d break myself, torture myself, if it meant she could find her way back to happiness.
But tonight, she’s here. She’s safe in my arms. And I swear to God, I’ll do whatever it takes to keep it that way. Starting with the person responsible for all this. Him, I will find.
I press a kiss to her forehead and gently untangle myself from her. Carefully, I place her head down on her pillow. She lets out a soft sigh, her arms reaching out, searching for something—searching for me. I grab another pillow and slide it into her arms before she wakes up and finds me gone. She clings to it immediately, hugging it to her chest.
“I love…” she murmurs, her voice soft and hazy with sleep.
Wait, did she just say,I love?My heart skips a beat. I lean down, my lips close to her ear. “What did you say? You love…what?” I whisper, but all she does is purse her lips, turning her back to me. Well, at least I tried.
I smile despite myself, pulling the blanket over her shoulder before grabbing my clothes. She didn’t say it back earlier. I didn’t wait for it. I just kissed her, then dragged her to her room to sleep.
And now, watching her, I know I’ll wait as long as it takes.
Fully dressed, I take one last look at her sleeping peacefully, and then I head out into the cool night.
The cab pulls upto Jared’s apartment building—an upscale, modern complex that reeks of the arrogance he embodies. Of course, he can afford a place like this when he steals jobs and sells private photos. The rage burns in me again as I march toward the entrance.
A man with white hair, probably in his sixties, sits behind the front desk. He wears a neatly pressed uniform, and his name tag reads “Tony.”
“Sir, may I help you?” His voice is polite but wary as he looks me over.
“I’m a friend of Jared Miller,” I say smoothly, slipping into an easy, practiced tone. “I was supposed to land this morning, but my flight got delayed. Finally made it, though.” I say casually, holding up the bag in my hand as if to confirm my story. It’s the perfect touch—I went by home earlier to grab it, knowing it would sell the illusion of someone fresh off a flight. The details matter, after all.
Tony frowns slightly. “Mr. Miller hasn’t mentioned expecting a guest.”
“It’s a surprise.” I pull out my phone, opening a gallery of photos. Every single one is of me and my ‘best friend’ Jared—childhood snapshots, graduation pictures, even recent ones from a supposed trip to Jared’s hometown. Of course, every last one of these photos is fake. Earlier, when Sophie had just fallen asleep, I messaged Micah. He has a guy for everything, and within the hour, I had a full portfolio of fabricated memories with Jared. Technology is a marvel.
Tony adjusts his glasses and peers at the screen. He studies the photos for a long moment before nodding, his face softening.
