Page 87 of Diamond Heart


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“Stop it, both of you,” I say, glaring at my friends. “Yes, Fiona and I were sleeping together. Yes, things were getting—” I hesitate, trying to find the right word. “Things were getting intimate. But I got her this interview because this job is better for her than anything I can provide, okay? I paid off her student loans, lived up to my end of the bargain, and now she can stay here, have a fucking life, get over whatever we had. She’ll nail the interview, get hired, and stay in Dallas. Far away from me.”

The guys go quiet. I stare at them for a second before settling in to glower at my drink. My shoulders slump. The weight of this decision hits me.

The fuckers, they think they know everything about human relationships now that they met their wives and got married.

They got lucky. I’m not like them. Ford’s got his family money, and Carmine’s got his Famiglia.

All I have is my job, and I can’t risk getting sidetracked by anything.

Not even Fiona. Not even if her laugh makes my stomach twist with excitement, and I dream about her moans every night in bed.

I can’t do that to myself, and I can’t do that to her.

If she comes to Boston, she’ll be bored and lonely. It’s a strange city in an entirely different part of the country. At least if she stays here, she’ll be able to make a new life for herself now that she’s debt-free.

I’ll even let her keep my Dallas apartment, so long as I can come stay there whenever I need to stop by.

Every time I think about it, this is obviously the best choice for her. Coming with me to Boston will be dangerous. Out there, we’d have to play the part of happily married for months on end, potentially every day, and there will be so many chances to slip up.

If she remains here, it’ll be complicated, but at least she won’t be in the lion’s den.

And she’ll have the job. She’ll have a future.

Something I can’t provide.

There’s so much I can’t give her, and that girl deserveseverything.

“What will you do about the Crowleys?” Carmine asks, tone softening. He raises his drink thoughtfully. “I assume they expect her to move with you.”

“I’ve been thinking about that,” I say, hunching forward. “I don’t have a good idea yet. I might tell them she can’t bring herself to leave Dallas, but I don’t know.”

“You could always tell them the truth,” Ford says, head cocked. “I mean, it’s the simplest explanation, right? Fiona lucked into a dream job, so she’s staying in Dallas for a while until she can start working remotely after a few months of training. Then as the strain of long distance wears on you two, you can just—” He shrugs a little. “Break up.”

I blink at him. “Well, shit. That kind of works, doesn’t it?”

“It works,” Carmine says, eyes narrowed. “When did you get so diabolical, Ford?”

“I’m a fucking genius,” Ford says, looking at his nails with a smirk. “You two are just jealous of my big brain.”

“Huge brain,” I say, laughing. “This could really work. Long distance always fails, right? We fake the long-distance thing, which will be a lot easier than faking an actual relationship. Then we’ll just—implode or whatever.”

“Crowleys won’t like it,” Carmine says, stroking his chin. “But it’ll work, assuming that asshole Liam doesn’t ruin things somehow.”

“That’s the beauty. It’s all true.” I’m nodding to myself now as the plan falls into place. “She’s really going to be working a dream job. We’ll really be long distance. Maybe I’ll manufacture some drama, she can cheat on me or something—and when we divorce, nobody will be surprised. I’ll plant a few fights, make it clear we’re having trouble. It’ll be good.”

“Good,” Carmine echoes. “Yeah, that sounds good. I guess this means your whole fake wife thing is coming to an end soon though, right? I mean, you’re moving in a few weeks. A few more months after that and it’s time to split for good.”

“Right,” I say, slumping again. “This is for the best. She’s better off without me, back in Dallas, working her dream job. She’ll be safe here.” I glare at my drink, throw it back, gesture for another.

The guys exchange a look.

“Doesn’t sound like you believe that, bro,” Ford says cautiously. “You sure your, uh, more intimate relationship with Fiona hasn’t gotten more serious than you realized?”

I don’t look at him. I’m busy thinking about my life without Fiona. Without her laugh, without her taste. Without her sleepy smiles in the morning, or her tough wit in the afternoons.

A cold and lonely world. Back to the empty life I used to live.

Back to the way things were meant to be.

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