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I expect this to clear up the doubts in her mind, but she’s still looking at me like there’s a huge question hanging in the air. Slowly she nods, but then she asks something that catches me entirely off-guard.
“Okay, but do you love me? Because to your mom, we’re a happily married couple in love.”
It takes me a second to figure out how to answer that, because the truth is, I don’t know. But as I sit there with my mouth agape and my mind fumbling over the answer, she cocks her head slightly.
“It’s kind of a problem that you don’t know how to answer that,” she says. “If we keep going down this road, what happens if things between us just run their course and we can’t keep pretending we’re in love anymore? Your mom would be devastated.”
I feel a little twinge in my chest when she says that.
“What makes you assume this will just run its course?” I ask, a little surprised at her assertion.
“Have you ever had a relationship that didn’t?” she counters almost immediately, and I can see she’s thought about this.
“I guess that’s a good point,” I say reluctantly. “But what if this time it doesn’t? What if this time it leads to love?”
I cringe a little bit though, even as I say it. As much as I like Jada, I still don’t know if I believe in all that happily ever after stuff. But that doesn’t mean I want to end this just yet.
Jada must sense that, though, because she looks at me with a degree of skepticism.
“Carter, do you love me? And I’m not looking for a particular answer, just the truth,” she says.
I sigh. “Honestly, I don’t know what to say. I mean, if I could love anybody, it would be you. You’re amazing, I hope you know that. It’s just, I still don’t really know if I even believe in love. At least not like most people do.”
She nods, and I can see where this is leading, but it’s all so matter-of-fact that I understand why.
“Again, that’s a problem,” she tells me and I notice she’s stopped spinning her wedding ring. “We’ve spent so much time together and you’re still unsure if there’s even such a thing as love. You cringe at the thought of it. All this romantic stuff is really nice, but if there’s no substance behind it, how long can it really last?”
I can see she has a bunch of good points. Only I hoped we’d have more time to figure this out. I really like Jada, and the romantic stuff has come so naturally, I didn’t even think it might be a problem. But I know I’ve been avoiding thinking too hard about any of what’s happened between us over the last few months. Maybe because, deep down, I knew it would lead to a conversation like this.
As much as I want to argue with Jada, to plead my case and convince her to just keep enjoying what we have, I know that would be unfair. It’s not something I can bring myself to ask for.
And yet, somehow I still feel the need to justify why I’ve been going down this path with her.
“I just thought we were having fun,” I tell her, but the words sound hollow even as I say them.
She shakes her head. “If we were just dating, we would be. But we’re in so much deeper than that. And it’s not just us involved now. My parents think we’re married, and your mom has so much emotionally riding on us working out.
“I hope you understand this is too risky for us to keep going down the path we’re going. I really like spending time with you, but if you don’t even know if you believe in love, then we can’t just see where this will go and hope for the best. That’s messy, and there’s too much at stake here. Can you imagine how much it would hurt your mom if this all went wrong? Honestly, I think it’s better to just call this now and save ourselves the mess.”
I don’t like what I’m hearing, but I can see she’s right. I’ve been playing a bit too fast and loose with this arrangement and it’s come back to bite me. There are no hard feelings here. I care about Jada and I respect where she’s coming from. The fact that a lot of this is her looking out for my mom is sobering, too.
“I hear you,” I tell her, nodding slowly. “I don’t want this to end up hurting anyone – not you, not me, and not my mom. But I just want you to know I really do like you.”
I can see a longing in her eyes as I say this and even though it probably would have been wiser to keep that to myself, I want her to know this has been real for me.
She nods slowly, but doesn’t say anything and I know it’s time to put this to an end, as much as it feels like our connection is being cut short. It’s almost like a pre-breakup. But it seems like we don’t have any other option.
“I’m happy to keep this as a fake marriage,” I tell her with a reassuring smile. The last thing I want is for her to feel guilty for speaking up. “That is what we agreed on in the first place, after all.”
She nods. “I wish this could be different, but I think there’s no other way.”
“Me too,” I tell her. “But hey, at least we make good housemates, right?”
We exchange a sad smile, and I stick out my hand in an attempt to lighten the mood a little.
“Fake marriage?” I say.
“Fake marriage,” she replies, and shakes my hand.
