It hadn’t been an accident. It hadn’t been a joke. And it definitely hadn’t felt fake, which was inconvenient, considering this was for insurance and nothing more.
I rolled onto my side carefully, the knee still stiff but improving. The brace was no longer an all-day sentence. The therapist had said I could start removing it for short periods around the house.
But before I got out of my bed, I reached for my phone.
Eleanor -So . . . . I kissed my fake husband last night.
I set my phone down as I started getting dressed. Before I even had my pants on, my phone rang. Eleanor was calling.
“What happened now?”
“Last night we were watching TV and talking, and one thing led to another . . . and he kissed me.”
“ . . . and?”
“And . . . I don’t know.” I flopped back on my bed.
“Did you like it?”
“Yes.”
“Do you like him?”
“ . . . ”
“Belle?”
“What? I’m thinking.”
“If you have to think that long, I’d say the answer is yes.”
“I just don’t know if I want to. I mean, this whole thing is fake, and I have to go and catch real feelings.”
Ava's little voice in the background called her name. “Hold on, sweetheart.”
“Go deal with your tiny human. I require coffee anyway.”
“Okay, I’ll talk to you soon.”
When I made my way into the kitchen, Raphael was already there. He was cooking. There was a skillet on the stove with eggs, and the scent of freshly brewed coffee filled the air.
He glanced up when he heard me. “Good morning.” His voice was softer . . . less guarded than usual.
“Morning,” I said, trying to sound casual and failing slightly.
He noticed. Of course he did. “You slept well?”.he asked.
“Yes.”
A beat.
“You?”
“Yes.” There it was. The smallest curve of his mouth.
He plated breakfast and set it at the table before I could protest about ‘the deal.’
“You don’t have to do that,” I said quietly.
