It’s going to be worth it.
Since the next morning is Saturday, I don’t go into the office. Somewhere in my restless night, I decided I’m not pressing any issues this weekend. Mom will think I’m compliant, but I’m only buying time until I figure everything out. Hiding in my room, scrolling for the last hour has gotten me nowhere. I don’t want drama today, I tell myself. I hate I’m still in this arrangement, but I need to check in with Bodan.
Morning, Bodan, just wanted to see how you are doing today.
Almost immediately, a reply pops up.
I’m doing well considering everything. On the plus side, my family’s excited to meet you at the funeral.
My stomach flips.Meet me?I wasn’t planning on going near his family, especially with the media watching. That was never part of the deal. The fake relationship was only for my mom’s events. Confused, I shoot off a text:
Why would they think I’m coming? I’m not family. I’ve never met them or your grandpa.
His reply comes almost instantly:
They watch the news, and they think we’re dating. I can’t tell them we aren’t now.
Instantly, my blood pressure spikes, and my face grows red hot. I slide off my bed and pace my bedroom as my brain imagines a room full of his family and cameras everywhere.
I can’t go to that funeral!
I fire back:
I’ve been thinking about our arrangement. This is a good time to call everything off. You have enough on your plate, and you need time to heal. I’m fine being done with this charade. Maybe in a few weeks, we can announce that we went our separate ways but still care about each other, yada, yada—you know—all the normal media spin. We don’t have to make a big deal about it, but I don’t think your grandfather’s funeral needs to be overshadowed by our farce.
I hit send and hold my breath.
The shame I’ve felt every single day since we launched this fake-dating scheme has been exhausting. As much as I want to call this whole thing quits, we have a duty to see it through in a practical way. We can’t live in an imaginary world forever. Continuing to loop our lives further together is not in either of our best interests.
But the phone buzzes again.
We can’t call it off today, and definitely not before the funeral. My 95-year-old grandma will croak. I’m her favorite grandchild. She’s been following the news, and she is so proud of me for dating a senator’s daughter. She told all of her friends, and they will all be at the funeral. Well, what’s left of them anyway. Most are dead, but that’s beside the point. She’s thrilled to meet you. It’s honestly the only thing that’s bringing her any light in this dark time since her husband died. She evenrequested our firstborn be named after my grandpa.
My pulse skyrockets. This was not supposed to hit me like this. How did I get sucked into this? I mean, I know how—my mother—but this is absurd.
My legs suddenly go weak, and I lower back onto my bed to keep the panic from spilling into another text to him. My heart thunders. Then what’s left of the people pleaser in me pushes forward, conjuring the image of his grandmother. At ninety something, she’s wrinkled but spry, and the funeral will likely be the hardest day of her life. She’s burying her husband. I’m not so hardened by my mom’s selfishness that I can’t feel empathy for someone. Somewhere deep down, a stubborn voice whispers,Grandma needs to have some hope.
Maybe it’s okay if I show up?
Hating what I’m about to do, because the lies are spiraling out of control, I type:
Okay. You have convinced me to go with you, but it’s only because it matters to your grandma. After this event, the score will be even. We’ve both helped each other. We need to set a timeline for ending this. It’s not healthy for us to delay our lives because we’re carrying on this charade.
I hit send but immediately regret agreeing to more lies.
This isn’t me.
But it’s too late, and I’m committed. It’s crazy—I never realized before this started how deep this would go. It’s only been a week, and it’s gotten so much bigger than just my mom’s PR stunt. Now it’s Bodan’s coworkers, his family and his grief. I got sucked right into the middle of it.
I’m right where I never wanted to be.
Ty will be so disappointed to hear I’ve added more time to this fake relationship.
But there’s no turning back now.
thirty-one
Lottie
