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“Thank you,” I say, feeling oddly relieved and validated that she sees my progress and not just my struggle.
She gives my leg a squeeze before sitting upright again. “You might not be where you want to be yet, but you'll get there, I'm sure of that. And Nathan will help you in any way he can.”
My phone chimes again, indicating I've gotten another message, probably from Logan, but I couldn't care less. Right now I'm focused on Nathan's mom and everything she has to say, and her insight into what she knows about my life.
“Thank you.” I feel like that phrase has been stuck on repeat on my lips. Between her and Nathan, I don’t think I’ve said those two words more in such a short period of time... other than when a waiter brings me food. Then I say them even more profusely.
“You have nothing to thank me for. I'm just telling you what I see.”
“Tell me about Nathan,” I say.
Her eyes light up. “What do you want to know?” she asks.
“Everything.”
Time flies, and before I know it, it's been half an hour. We're laughing about some of the cute antics that Nathan pulled as a child, and I find myself liking him and his mom more and more. It becomes easier and easier to forget that this is all just fake, and when that thought occurs to me, I inhale as a sharp, stabbing pain punctures my ribs.
Maybe I don't want it to be fake.
I like Nathan. I like Nathan's mom. From our conversations, I have a feeling I'm like his whole family. This whole visit could have gone a very different direction. She could have put me down, told me that I wasn't good enough for her son. She could have told me that my past made me unsuitable for someone of his stature.
She hadn't done any of that. Instead, she'd made every attempt to put me at ease, to let me know that I'm a good person and that she feels like I'm a good fit for her son. Now telling me the cute stories of her son's childhood, she leaves me feeling like I'm already part of the family and I don't even have a ring on my finger yet.
It's such a unique feeling, I don't even know how to describe it. I'm feeling happy and warm and fuzzy and accepted, cared about... all the things that I probably should have felt with my parents. Something tells me that this woman already loves me unconditionally, for no reason other than that her son asked me to marry him.
She's seen me at my worst and still thinks I'm good enough. How can I not love her dearly? And how can I not feel awful about the fact that I'm tricking her, that I'm lying to her, that I'm going to help her son make her believe that I’m the love of his life... when in reality, I’m not?
I hadn't even considered this eventuality. I hadn't thought about the fact that I might feel bad tricking people. I'm not much of a liar, but when it's framed as saving Nathan from a loveless marriage, it feels a lot better than tricking his mother into thinking that he's in love with me when we're really just strangers who work together.
One thing is for sure, it's definitely going to take some work for me to get through this and figure out how to still love myself afterward, because I don't feel good about any of this right now.
“I guess I should probably get going,” she says.
Part of me wants her to stay, but part of me is glad she's leaving. I enjoy your company. She's funny and witty and easy to talk to and oh so accepting and loving. But I think the guilt of tricking her is going to eat me alive from the inside.
“I'm so happy to have met you. You are amazing,” I say, meaning every word.
We both stand up and she meets me with a sweet smile, before pulling me into a hug. “Likewise. You are perfect for Nathan. I'm so glad he found you.”
As she releases me, I remind myself I'm doing this for Nathan because he asked. Because it's what he wanted. I'm saving him from a loveless marriage, and helping myself in the process.
I walk his mother to the door, my heart heavy as I wish for just a minute that any of this could be real, that I could have her in my life for good. That I could keep these wonderful people close because I can imagine loving all of them. They’re good people, and that makes the whole situation heavier.
“I gave you my number. Drive safe and let me know that you made it home, okay, all right?” I say.
“Of course.”
As she steps out onto the walkway I follow, determined to walk her to her car. I couldn't bear it if anything bad happened to her. As we walk, she asks me if Nathan and I have made any wedding plans yet.
“We haven't gotten there yet,” I say.
She gives me a sideways smile that tells me she's thinking the complete wrong thing about our relationship. “There will be plenty of time for that,” she says as she stops next to an expensive looking shiny car. “It's a shame he doesn't even have a ring on your finger yet. If he was smarter, he'd have locked down already.”
With a smile, I cross a finger over my heart. “Don't worry, I'm not interested in anyone else. He has all of my attention.”
She gets in her car and closes the door. The engine turns over and I take a few steps back, waving as she pulls out of the parking spot. Past her car, I see a flash of dark hair and a familiar smile.
The man who's watching me casually begins to stroll my direction, and I take an involuntary step back, all warm fuzzy feelings forgotten. My heart begins to thunder in my chest and without another glance at the man, I turn and race for my door.
