Page 72 of Faking With You

She waves a hand in front of her. “I knew you wouldn’t go if I had said he’d be there. I also knew you needed to go and hear him out. So, now that he’s told you he loves you, again, why are you here?”

I sigh. “Because I’m not sure how I can believe him. We were fake dating, and right when I had gotten the courage to tell him how I felt, the rug was pulled from under me, and I don’t know how to go back as if nothing has changed.”

“You’re right, you can’t go back as if nothing has changed. Everything has changed.”

“Not helping,” I say, staring her down.

She pours us each a glass of orange juice, and I take a small sip. “Babe, you admitted to us that you had never had sex beforeMac. And whatever your reasons were, and I know those are your own, you obviously trusted Mac enough to give him that piece of you. So fake or not, your gut, and probably your hear,t was already telling you to trust him. Then you both fell in love with each other. Love changes everything.”

“You can’t have love without trust,” I say.

She leans forward on the counter and finds my eyes. “Let’s break down why you think you can’t trust him, then.”

I match her stance. “Just days before I left London, I asked him if he’d ever thought about moving back. He said no, Vancouver was his home now, and then I woke up after the gala to his father talking about him moving.”

“Did Mac say he was moving?”

I shake my head. “No, but he took the conversation out of the apartment, so I don’t know what they discussed.”

“When he met you in the bar, did he say he’s moving?”

I pick at my nails, because I can see where she’s going and I don’t know I want her to. I don’t know if I want her to be right. My life was perfectly fine before just me and my friends with zero complications. “No.”

“So if he never said he’s moving and he’s confirmed he’s not and you had only heard it from what I’m gathering is a very unreliable source, why can’t you trust him?”

Because trusting him means opening myself up to getting hurt again and I don’t know that I can get hurt by him and make it out the other end and it means opening my life up to change and I don’t like change.

I don’t say any of that. Instead, I stare at my hands.

After a minute, Hannah covers my hands with hers and squeezes. “Change can be good sometimes. You were the one who pushed me to give Grayson a chance and look how well that turned out for me.”

I look up and meet her gaze. “But you thrive on chaos. Hell, you work in the ER. How much crazier could you get for a job? I’m the exact opposite.”

“Okay, let's talk this out then. Tell me your favourite memory from the last six months.”

I press my lips together because of course it’s one that involves Mac. It was at his apartment, curled up on the couch in comfortable clothes together, soft music playing in the background as he ran a hand through my hair and we both read. It was like the world stilled into one perfect content moment that I had wished I could bottle and relive whenever I wanted to.

Hannah pats my hand. “Okay, don’t tell me the memory, but answer me this, was Mac in it?”

I nod.

“When you think of the next trip you want to take, where do you see yourself and what are you doing?”

Italy, walking the streets with Mac each with a cup of gelato, sharing our different flavours.

Tears build in my eyes and I squeeze my hands together.

“Mac’s in it, isn’t he?”

I nod again, unable to speak.

“Babe, you’ve already accepted this change in your heart, I think your mind just needed some time to catch up.”

She’s right, and I love and hate that she is. She really does know me better than I know myself sometimes. The next issue is that I fled from Mac in the bar and I’m not sure I’m ready for us to get married. Six months is nothing in the grand scheme of things; it feels a little rushed.

“I kind of ran away from Mac,” I say.

“You left him sitting in the bar alone with that beautiful engagement ring?”