by Kennedy Fox
I pull in a ragged breath. When she looks at me, waiting for me to continue, her gaze pierces straight through me.
“I—” Lennon starts, then stops. She’s conflicted, which I’m not at all surprised by. I’m offering a lot here.
Instead of waiting for her, I continue to sell her my idea. “So we say we drove to Vegas and got hitched. I know it sounds crazy, but people do it all the time since there’s no waiting period. We’ll say you got pregnant right after the wedding before we even told anyone we eloped. They don’t know how far along you are and won’t know the difference if you move it back a few weeks. You can hide your belly, and when the baby arrives, we’ll just say he or she is just early. I’m sure it’s nothing new for due dates to be off,” I tell her confidently while trying to keep my voice even and calm.
“Aww.” Maddie interrupts our moment, looking back and forth between us as if I just confessed my undying love to Lennon, and considering my words, I somewhat have. I want Lennon to say something, but she doesn’t. Meanwhile, Sophie grins wide, eating up every word.
“This really could work,” Sophie confirms with a nod, looking at Lennon and me. “It’s actually really smart and nearly foolproof. If you told me this, I’d believe it one hundred percent. Plus, you’re really not showing, at least nothing you couldn’t hide with some yoga pants and a baggy T-shirt, so you could play it off like you’re still in your first trimester instead of entering your second.”
As I look at Lennon, I know she’s in her head, and I want to talk her off the ledge and tell her I’m here, that I’ve always been here and always will be, but she knows. I can’t allow her to go through this by herself; she’s already lost so much. Losing her parents would nearly kill her, and I know it’s not healthy for the baby for her to be this stressed out. Though she talks about how strict they were, she loves them with everything she is, that much is certain.
“Lennon,” I plead, barely above a whisper. “Talk to me, please.”
By the way she’s looking at me, I wish I wouldn’t have said anything with Sophie and Maddie around, but it was a random thought that popped into my head, one that will actually solve all her problems. Her sisters would’ve found out eventually if this plan goes through because they’ll have to be in on it too. As I beg with my eyes for her to speak, Lennon’s demeanor changes, and she shakes her head.
“Hunter, have you seriously lost your mind?” She rests her hand over her belly as if she’s needing to protect the baby, which is exactly what I’m trying to do.
That was not the response I was expecting.
Maddie’s mouth falls open in shock.
“Have you all lost your minds?” Lennon fires back at us. “I’ll have to pretend to be married until the end of time. They don’t allow divorce either, so then what? Anytime I have to go for a visit or they come here, we’re gonna continue pretending? What if I meet someone who actually wants to marry me? Or what if you meet someone?” She points her gaze at me. “Think she’ll let me borrow you for the weekend when it’s time to visit my parents?” She raises her brows in a mocking question.
The thought of her ever being with someone else rips a dagger through me. I don’t want to find anyone; that’s the problem. I’m not sure when either of us will be ready for that.
“I do understand, Lennon,” I say, treading carefully. “When that happens”—the word when is a knife in my heart—“we’ll cross that bridge then. If you need a divorce or a way out, you can blame it all on me, just say I was unfaithful and walked out or something.” The words taste like poison as they leave my mouth. I know this is all fake and worst-case scenario, but I hate thinking of there being a time when Lennon isn’t in my life. “All I’m suggesting is an option that’ll make you stress-free and keep your parents happy,” I simply say.
“You make it sound so easy,” she says softer, sounding defeated. “Lying to my parents to cover up another lie. It’s not gonna be as easy as you think.”
I nod, understanding her concerns. I know it won’t be, considering my true feelings for her, but I know she needs an out, and I’m offering her an option.
“Just think about it. We have time still. I’ll do whatever you need or want, Lennon. You know that, but you’ll need to decide soon so we can prepare and get our stories straight.” I stand, knowing she probably needs some space. “Either way, I’m going with you to Utah because you’re not going by yourself,” I tell her matter-of-factly.
Before it gets awkward and more tense, I excuse myself and go to my room, leaving the ball in her court. This is ultimately her decision, one that she’s going to have to make on her own. I sit on the edge of the bed and scrub my hands over my face, blowing out deep breaths. I feel as if I’ve betrayed my best friend for even suggesting this. Though my intentions are pure, my feelings aren’t. It’ll be torture for me to experience a glimpse of something I can’t have and will never have—Lennon as my wife.
Brandon would want me to take care of her, protect her from harm, and that’s what I’m trying to do, regardless of how it’ll affect me personally. Luckily, her parents are miles away, so keeping up the façade will be easy. At least then she won’t have to lie about not living with someone anymore.
I can still hear them chatting but can’t make out what they’re saying, and a part of me doesn’t want to know anyway. I lie back on the bed and stare at the ceiling until my vision blurs. Everything I said in there was the truth, even if the feelings I’ve felt for her all this time are one-sided. I won’t have to do much pretending, so it’d be easy for me to play the fake husband, though showing affection might be awkward at first since I’ve coached myself to keep my distance for so long.
Releasing a deep, conflicted breath, I try to push it all away. Maybe it was a stupid idea after all.
I close my eyes, exhausted from my day at work, and fall asleep with the light on. I’m dreaming about nothing when I think I hear Lennon calling my name. My eyes flutter open, and I’m surprised she’s standing in my room, watching me sleep.
“Hey,” I say, clearing my throat and sitting up on the edge of the bed.
She walks toward me and sits next to me as she bows her head and slumps her shoulders. “My sisters just left.”
I study her, trying to gauge her next words.
“I’m sorry for the way I acted,” she starts.
Before she can continue, I stop her. “Don’t be.”
“I was just shocked.” She nods as if she’s confirming it to herself, then shifts her body slightly so we’re face to face. “But the more I talked it over with them, the more I realized how right you were. It’s actually a brilliant idea, considering how I’m limited on options, and I’m kinda upset with myself that I didn’t think of it first,” she says with a laugh and shoots me a playful grin. “Seriously, though, I think it’ll work.”
“Ahh, it feels good to be right,” I tease, needing to relieve some of the tension in the air.
Lennon giggles, then smacks my arm.
“I know I talked about a fake divorce and all that, but honestly, I think I might be alone for the rest of my life. I don’t see myself ever moving on.”
I shift my body, and our faces are close enough for me to feel her warm breath on my cheek. Right now, all I need is for some distance between us because the way she’s looking at me makes me want to kiss all her worries away. It’s almost as if she wants me to, but I resituate myself, finding the space I desperately need before I cross a line I know I shouldn’t. I know I’m reading into her body language and expressions way more than I should, but at times, it’s hard to remind myself of that when she looks at me with so much sadness and longing.
“You’ll move on when you’re ready, but I promise, you won’t be alone forever. You’re a beautiful woman, Lennon. I’ve always thought that. You’re caring, thoughtful, and compassionate. I know one day you’re going to find someone who’ll love you and your baby. It might not be soon, or even five years from now, but eventually. That I
know for certain.” I swallow hard, meaning every word, but also realizing how much they hurt me to say.
Her eyes meet mine, and for a second, I’m lost in them, lost in the sound of her ragged breaths as her lips slightly part. So much emotion and electricity streams between us that I force myself to look away to break the silent conversation we were having.
“You’ll find someone too, Hunter,” she assures, and I’m not sure why there’s a tinge of sadness in her voice when she says that. I want to tell her that I’ve never wanted anyone else other than her—explain that she’s always been the one for me, the woman I think about when I close my eyes—but confessing my truths will only make things tense between us, so I keep it to myself just as I have for the past two years.
“Thank you,” I tell her without saying what I really want to say, and she gives me a side grin.
“Well,” she says, her tone changing. “I guess it’s settled then. We’ll have to come up with a plan, transfer the plane ticket to your name, then start learning all the nitty-gritty about each other, so our fake relationship is believable at least, because, trust me, with my family, you’ll get the interrogation of your life.” She stands, seeming happy that we have a plan.
“Yep, I guess so. Now you’ll have to tell me all your secrets,” I taunt, but as I glance in the top drawer where the engagement ring Brandon bought her is tucked away, I know that not everything can be discussed. Some things have to stay buried deep inside.
“I’m an open book, but tomorrow, it all starts. You might not want to be my friend after you learn some things about me,” she jokes.
I chuckle, shaking my head. “Impossible.”
“When I was a kid, I loved to eat sugar and butter sandwiches.” She shrugs with a giggle.
“That’s beyond disgusting,” I tell her, laughing. She doesn’t respond, only smiles as she walks out the door, and then she’s gone for the night.
The word friend lingers around my head and brings me back to reality. I have to remind myself that we’re just friends, regardless of how close we’ve grown. If it’s the only way we can ever be, then I will selfishly take it, even if it shatters me in the end.
Chapter Twenty-One
Lennon
“Take a selfie with me,” I say, plopping on the couch next to him, so close that our shoulders touch.
“Another one?” he asks with a laugh, side-glancing at the way my body presses to his.
I hold out my phone until our faces are in the frame. “Can you at least look like you’re happily married?” I tease, scooting even closer. “Put your arm around me or something. We’re supposed to convince them we’re newlyweds and all.”
Hunter clears his throat, rubs his hands over his jeans, and then wraps his arm around me. It falls to my hip so I can lean into him, my shoulder resting against his chest as my forehead presses against his cheek. “Say cheese!”
I hold my phone up again, and we look into the camera. Hunter’s forced smile makes me laugh. “Can you at least pretend you don’t hate pictures? I need to load my Instagram with a variety of photos of us. My parents and their nosy friends will no doubt ask to see some.”
Considering my parents always wanted me to get married in the church, they’ll definitely be suspicious. So I made a fake Instagram account, started loading pictures with overly sappy posts, and followed all kinds of random accounts so they’d follow me back. I have to make it as believable as possible.
“Let’s try a few more,” I say, scanning through our other pictures. It’s been over a week since Hunter suggested this plan, and we still have a lot to do before we leave in two days.
When I tuck my legs under my butt and wrap my arm over his shoulder, he tenses. “What? Is this not okay?” I ask, feeling self-conscious.
“Oh no, it’s fine.” He clears his throat again as if he needs a second. “I just don’t like taking pictures.”
I furrow my brows. “Really?” Brandon and I took hundreds. “Too much of a manly man?” I tease, and he cracks the tiniest of smiles.
“Nah, it’s fine. We’ll take all the ones you need,” he says, leaning in close to me when I put my phone up again.
I snap three in a row, resting our cheeks together like the super cheesy couple we’re pretending to be. Part of me wants to laugh at the irony, the fact that I haven’t ever seen Hunter with anyone serious and now here he is taking selfies with me.
“Do you mind if I kiss your cheek?” I ask, looking over the photos.
“What?”
I snap my eyes up to his when the word comes out hoarse.
“For a picture,” I confirm, noticing his nervousness. “This was your idea, remember?” I snicker, and his shoulders relax.
“Yes, I know…for you,” he reiterates with a grin.
“Hunter,” I say softly. “I know you want to help me out, but if this is going to be too uncomfortable and awkward, I won’t be upset if you want to back out. I know you probably don’t have a lot of experience with relationships and maybe didn’t realize everything that we’d have to do to make this look real, so—”
“Lennon, stop,” he growls, turning to face me. “I’m not backing out. I said I’d do whatever you needed, so don’t be afraid to ask, okay? I can handle it.” His words come out confidently, and though a tinge of guilt surfaces at what we’re doing, I know it’s the only way. Once I confirmed my visit with my mother, she was so excited. I told her I had a surprise guest coming as well but never said who. She’ll be getting a son-in-law and grandchild all at once.
The corner of my lips tilts up, and I nod. “Okay. Thank you, Hunter.” I feel like I’m constantly thanking him lately.
I reposition myself on the couch until I’m practically on his lap. We’ve been quizzing each other all week long, sharing as many details about our childhood and pasts as possible. It’s definitely made us closer, knowing more about him and what his family life entailed. So even if all of this goes wrong and my parents don’t buy it, at least one good thing came out of it, and that’d be the growth and strength of our friendship.
I raise my phone once again, then I bring my lips to his cheek and click the button. As I pull back, Hunter laughs. “I think I blinked.”
That makes me chuckle. “It shouldn’t be this hard to get a picture.” I press my photos app and look. “Oh my God, Hunter!” I nudge him with my shoulder.
He’s full-on sticking out his tongue and crossing his eyes, sabotaging the shot on purpose. I can’t stop laughing, though, because it’s Hunter in true fashion. Always messing with me.
“That’ll have to do for now. Actually, I kinda like it.” I shrug, putting a filter on it, then uploading it to my fake account. But first I need a super cheesy caption.
Speaking out loud as I type, I say, “Every day is filled with love and laughs with this guy! Two red hearts. Hashtag newlyweds, hashtag love of my life, hashtag married life.” Then I click post, and it uploads.
Once it’s on the feed, I turn my phone toward Hunter and show him. “Whatcha think? Are we the cutest fake couple ever or what?” I snicker, thinking about the ridiculousness of this all. He has no idea how intense things will get when we arrive. Considering my sisters won’t be there, all of the attention will be on me. Fucking joy.
Hunter narrows his eyes at it and scrolls through the dozens of pictures I’ve posted. Everything from our morning coffees to “breakfast in bed” and movie nights. Some are just pictures of our legs as we lounge on the couch, but I know we’re gonna have to keep it up even after we’re back home. My mom will probably have the entire congregation follow me for updates on us and the baby.
“The Mrs. Manning,” he reads my handle aloud. My profile picture is of the two of us with my ‘married’ name beneath as “Lennon Manning.”
“Yeah.” I shrug. “I thought it was cute. And cheesy.” Chuckling, I study him and watch as his breath hitches and jaw tightens. I’m not sure what kind of response I was expecting, but he actually looks affected. Maybe
the reality of what we’re doing is settling in. Maybe he thinks he’s betraying Brandon, or hell, maybe he realizes his life will never be the same once we do this.
I know those thoughts have crossed my mind. But I’m the one with no options. He can still back out.
“Yeah, looks nice. I’m sure they’ll buy it.” He nods, handing my phone back.
I grab my notebook from the coffee table and check off where I wrote “Daily Instagram post” under the Friday column. Ever since we decided to do this, I started making a daily to-do list, so I don’t forget anything. Getting our stories straight, learning everything we can about each other, and taking pictures and posting them on social media are a few tasks I have listed. If we’re going to pull this off, we have to do whatever it takes.
Speaking of which…
“I have a weird request,” I start, then pull in my bottom lip and wait for his response. Hunter went to grab a beer for himself and a bottle of water for me. He thinks I need to be hydrated 24/7 and forgets as soon as I drink it, I have to rush to the bathroom so I don’t pee myself. I’ve been getting up at least three times at night, which is really annoying when I’m actually warm and comfortable in bed for once.
“Any weirder than faking a marriage?” he mocks, taking a sip of his beer and setting my water down on the coffee table. Hunter plops downs on the couch, leaving space between us.
I decide to let it go, figuring Hunter’s in a weird mood tonight. Since we’ve been sharing more details about each other, I think it’s made him more vulnerable than usual, and I don’t want to push it.
Getting up, I ignore his comment and go to the kitchen table where I had set out a few items that I still need to pack in my suitcase. There’s a stack of notecards with random things about ourselves written on them as well as some with our “couple” information. I know the name of his first pet was Reagan, after the president. His first kiss was with a girl named Brittany in second grade. His brother’s name is Hayden, and he lives in New York with his girlfriend, Savannah. Hunter’s middle name is John after his great-grandfather on his mother’s side. His birthday is November 23rd and lands on Thanksgiving every six years. His favorite holiday is Christmas because growing up, it was the one day of the year his family was “normal,” and his dad didn’t make work a priority. He told me funny stories of his uncle dressing up as Santa and how he found out the truth one year when he discovered a bag of presents in the laundry room.
