Page 80 of Say It's Not Fake


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“I’m married, Rog.”

Silence.

I couldn’t remember the last time Roger Heiden had been rendered mute. This would go down in the history books.

“You’re pulling my leg,” he said with a laugh.

“I’m not. The wedding was a month ago.”

“To who? It was only last year that you were crying over Gavin fucking Wiseley.” He sounded incredulous as though he suspected he was being punked.

“He’s someone I’ve known for a long time. It all just sort of happened. He has a daughter—”

“Wait a goddamn minute; you’re telling me you’re giving up the chance to work on a blockbuster movie to play step-mommy to some kid? You’ve got to be kidding me. That’s not the Whitney Galloway I know and love.” I could almost see him shaking his head in disbelief.

“People change Rog.”

“Some people maybe, but not you, baby. Not my Galloway. Come on. Come to Hungary. Make some serious bank. That’s where you belong. Not married to a trucker and playing mommy in some backwater hicktown. Give me a break,” he scoffed.

“He’s not a trucker.” It was the only part of his diatribe I could argue with. Because a tiny part of it hit home. And that bothered me.

“Okay, well shooting starts in ten days. So, you have ten days to get your ass out here. Or not. The choice is yours. Though you’re a fucking idiot if you don’t. Let me know.” Then he was gone.

“Damn it,” I seethed, clutching my phone in my hand.

There was a knock on the door. “Whit, you in there?”

Crap.

I opened the door to find a very sleepy Kyle standing in the hallway. “I didn’t know where you had gone,” he said and reached for me. “I don’t like waking up and you not being there.”

He kissed the side of my neck, and my entire body melted into him.

I forced myself to forget the call with Roger.

This was what mattered.

This was my choice.

**

“I’m not looking forward to this,” Kyle muttered, his gaze scanning the park, looking for his ex.

Josie had called on Thursday evening. I only heard Kyle’s end of the conversation, and he had kept it brief. They agreed to meet at the park on Saturday morning at 10:30. Josie would have an hour visit to start, and they’d build from there. They would slowly work toward unsupervised visits while custody was being determined. The plan was for Josie and Katie to get used to each other gradually. Adam had gone back to the judge and asked for an amendment to the visitation order to include supervised visits until both parties agreed.

Josie had been agreeable to everything. She sure was playing the part of a well-intentioned mother to a tee.

I took Kyle’s hand, lacing our fingers together. Katie was digging in the sandpit, unaware of how her life was about to change. That was the amazing thing about children. Aside from being resilient, their ability to focus on what was in front of them, tuning out everything else was something I wished I remembered how to do.

“You just have to be civil. And remember this is for Katie. To keep her here with us.” I lifted his hand and pressed it to my chest. “We’re in this together.”

He ran his fingers down my cheek. “Have I told you lately how amazing you are?”

I tapped my chin. “Not in the past ten minutes, no.”

He leaned forward and kissed me. A slow, tender touching of lips. “Let me rectify that then. Whitney Galloway Webber, you’re amazing.” He pulled back and looked at his phone. “She should be here.”

I glanced toward the parking lot and could see a slim figure with long brown hair making her way in our direction. “Is that her?”

Kyle’s entire body tensed. I could practically smell his anxiety. “That’s her.”

Josie Robinson made her way over. She was pretty, with a sweet, heart-shaped face that made her look a lot younger than she was. She was also much shorter than Kyle, and when he stood up to greet her, they looked awkward beside each other. Seeing them together, I honestly couldn’t picture them as a couple. They didn’t fit. That was obvious.

But the way Josie looked at Kyle was telling, and it put me on edge. She gazed up at my husband as if she were parched, and he was a tall glass of water. This was a woman in love to the point of agony.

“Hi, Web,” she said, her eyes never leaving his face. Her voice was high pitched, like a child’s. It was a little off-putting.

“Hi, Jos.” Kyle reached out for my hand, pulling me up to stand next to him. “You remember Whitney Galloway—well, it’s Whitney Webber now.” He put his arm around my waist, but it wasn’t done with affection, but more as if he were making a point.

I saw the hurt flash in Josie’s eyes. She didn’t exactly try to hide it. Her brown eyes drifted down to where Kyle’s arm rested around my middle. She wouldn’t make eye contact, looking instead over my shoulder. “Hi, Whitney. I suppose congratulations are in order.”

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