Billionaire's Fake Fiancee

by Eva Luxe

  “You talked about it,” I said, nodding. Now that I remembered how I knew her— or, the old her, the one who looked and acted very different from this new, diseased her— the memories were still flooding back.

  Our eyes connected, and it took me back to the short time we’d spent together. I’d only seen her three other times besides that night on the dock, but she had forever imprinted herself onto my life. The memories I had buried started to resurface, drawing my eyes toward the small little girl sitting in her lap.

  She was pressed as close to her mother as she could get.

  “Blithe knows something’s wrong, but she doesn’t understand,” Marlie said.

  “Is there something I can do?” I swallowed thickly as Marlie’s tearful eyes rose back to mine.

  “I’m here because Blithe should be with family after I’m gone.”

  Her words stunned me. She wanted me to take Blithe? Did she not have family that could take this little girl? Surely, this scared, raven-haired little girl had other people who loved her and could take her in. People she knew and was more comfortable being around.

  “You don’t have anyone else who can take her?” I asked, knowing how shitty it sounded the moment the question left my lips.

  “You’re her father, Zach,” Marlie said.

  “Biologically, sure, but I’m not her daddy. There’s a difference in those two roles.”

  “She has no one else,” Marlie whispered. “She’ll go into a foster home if you don’t take her.”

  I watched Marlie’s eyes sink back to the little girl who was now asleep in her lap. Light snores were coming from between her cupid’s bow lips. They were shaped just like her mother’s.

  “I want better for her than that,” Marlie said.

  “Marlie, I’m not equipped to be a father. Surely you understood that when you made the choice not to tell me.”

  “I didn’t tell you because I wasn’t sure how you were going to react,” she said.

  “Exactly. You know me well enough to know that I’m not father material. I don’t live in a place that would support a child, nor do I work a job that would support the schedule of a child.”

  “There is no other option,” she said. “Do you know what it’s like in the foster care system? Do you know anyone who grew up in it?”

  My mind careened back to the memory of Paige. I could remember the look of utter regret and sorrow in her eyes when she told me she’d grown up in that system. She didn’t want to talk about it, and she was standoffish about the entire subject. I couldn’t imagine the abandonment she felt growing up like that, but I knew if I put this little girl there, that was what she would feel like.

  Abandoned.

  Marlie continued. “Back when Blithe was born, I knew what your reaction would be, so I didn’t tell you. You were a wild bad boy, and I was attracted to that, but now it’s time to step up. Now, the future of a delicate life relies on the decision you make. Just like it did for me four years ago.”

  “Holy fuck,” I said, whispering.

  “I know it’s a lot to take in. Believe me, I get it. You can think on it, but I’m going to need an answer by tomorrow.”

  “Did you get twenty-four hours to make your decision when you were debating whether to tell me you were pregnant?” I asked. I knew it was a low blow, and I immediately regretted it. “I’m sorry.”

  “I need an answer by tomorrow because I still have time to try the formal adoption route before things get bad,” she said. “I’m counting my days, but I’m trying to make the best of them. If you give me an answer by tomorrow, I still might be able to save Blithe from the system.”

  Holy fuck, I was a shitty human being. “How can I get in touch with you?”

  Marlie dug a piece of paper out of her pocket before she tossed it onto the table between us. “That’s my cell number and the name of my hotel. You can call me there.”

  I reached for the sliver of paper, and Marlie started to gather her things. The scared little girl was sleeping soundly on her shoulder as she struggled with her bag. I leapt to my feet to help her. I picked it up and ushered her to the door, helping her down the stairs and into her car. I watched as she buckled her daughter—our daughter—into her car seat as she slept.

  There was so much I was clueless on when it came to raising a child.

  “I’ll keep my phone close to me,” Marlie said. “I won’t judge you either way. I know this is a shock, and as long as you get back to me by tomorrow evening, I should have enough time to arrange something else.”

  “Why were you driving by my work?” I asked.

  She opened the car door and stood there with her eyes hooked onto mine.

  “All those times you drove by and could’ve come in. Why didn’t you?”

  “Because I wasn’t driving by to talk with you,” she said.

  “Then what were you doing?”

  “I was driving by to see if you were stable. To see if you had pieced yourself together a bit. You were a mess four years ago, Zach. My first priority is protecting my daughter.”

  As angry as that made me, I understood where she was coming from. I was still battling a great number of demons when we first met. I still had anger issues, and I was still harboring anger and resentment toward my father.

  Maybe that was why she didn’t tell me she was pregnant. “Drive safe,” I said.

  “Call me tomorrow,” she said.

  I watched her pull away from my cabin before I started back inside. The piece of paper in my hand felt heavier than the weight of the world. I rested my back against my front door, my mind spinning with questions and worry and doubt. The one thing that stood out more than anything was my mother.

  She would’ve been a grandmother, and she would’ve been fucking ecstatic.

  Leaning my head against the door, I closed my eyes. I didn’t have the first idea about what it meant to take care of a child. There were so many things I would need for this cabin. Hell, perhaps it was beyond salvaging to get into good enough shape for a child to live in. I was probably looking at finding a new place altogether.

  I didn’t have any family or support network to walk me through this shit. How the fuck would I even cook for a child? What did they eat? Surely, she wasn’t eating baby food anymore, but did she eat steak or something?

  A knock at the door pulled me from my thoughts, and I slid it open immediately.

  A hand slapped a wrinkled piece of paper against my chest, surprising the shit out of me. Paige stood in front of me, her eyes wide and her head cocked to the side. I furrowed my brow at her before I grabbed the paper. My eyes scanned the document.

  “Did you know?” Paige asked.

  There it was. All the proof I needed on Blithe’s birth.

  I frowned. How the fuck did Paige have my daughter’s birth certificate?

  Chapter 35- Paige

  “How the hell do you have this?” he asked, holding the document up in front of my face. “Where did you get this?”

  “Look, I know there are a lot of questions running through your head right now, and I’ll answer them, but first, I need to know. Did you know you had a daughter?”

  His bright blue eyes were bubbling with confusion, and it seemed like he was overwhelmed. His body was betraying his emotional state in ways he wasn’t recognizing, and I was starting to get worried about him.

  “Zach, let’s go sit down.”

  I slowly backed him into his cabin and shut the door. I guided him to a chair and sat him down before I opened his fridge and got him a beer. I popped it open and handed it to him, watching as his eyes dropped to the copy of the birth certificate.

  I didn’t have a choice but to fill him in on the whole truth now.

  “She just stopped by,” Zach said.

  “Who did?” I asked.

  He pointed to the name of the mother on the birth certificate.

  “Marlie Hayworth was here?” I asked. “Why?”

  “She’s dying,” he said
numbly. “And she wants me to take care of Blithe.”

  “Your daughter,” I said.

  “Apparently so, according to this birth certificate you have.”

  “Zach, I can explain—”

  “No offense, but there are some things that are bigger than you right now,” he said.

  I was taken aback by his tone of voice, but if he didn’t want me to explain, then I wasn’t going to force it on him. He was dealing with enough right now, and the one thing I knew I could do was be there for him.

  “Do you want to talk about it?” I asked.

  “There’s nothing to talk about. Marlie’s got cancer. She was diagnosed about a year ago. Stopped treatment two months ago. She’s trying to get everything in order now.”

  His eyes glossed over, and it took my breath away. Every cell in my body ached for him. I couldn’t imagine the overwhelming emotions he was experiencing right now, or all the questions he must have that he didn’t have answers to.

  “Did she tell you why she never told you about her pregnancy?” I asked.

  “Paige, I was a mess when she met me. She thought she was doing the right thing for her, for the baby, and for me by not saying anything. She was right. Had she told me, I probably would’ve encouraged her to get an abortion or something.”

  “Zach, you don’t strike me as—”

  “You don’t know a damn thing about me, Paige.”

  Which wasn’t true. Not in the slightest. If he would let me explain why I had been in Brookings in the first place, he would know how much I really did know. He would know how intimately I’d come to know him and how much I had come to cherish our interactions.

  I reached out to take his hand, but he slid it off the table, his eyes focused on me but looking straight through me. He was lost in his mind, swimming around in an endless abyss of questions that swallowed him whole.

  I didn’t know what else I could do but watch.

  “She needs an answer by tomorrow,” he said as he looked down at his beer.

  “Why?” I asked.

  “Because it still gives her time to try and have Blithe adopted before she—” His eyes squeezed shut, and my heart lurched into my throat.

  “I’m so sorry, Zach,” I said breathlessly.

  “I can’t take her.”

  “Why not?” I asked.

  “I don’t know the first damn thing about raising a child.”

  “No one does,” I said. “It’s something you learn as you go along.”

  “I don’t know how to be a good father, Paige. You know why. I didn’t have the best role model for that growing up. I refuse to let that beautiful little girl be ruined by me.”

  “Why would she be ruined by you?” I asked.

  He drew in a shuddering breath that shook his shoulders, and I was helpless to do anything about what he was experiencing. I wanted to take this all away from him and shoulder it for myself so he could get some rest.

  The life Zach had led had been hard and full of pain and regret. The last thing he needed was to feel like he needed to make another life-altering decision based on ideas about himself that weren’t true.

  “How does that saying go?” he asked. “You’ll end up just like your parents?”

  “You think that when you become a father, you’ll become abusive?” I asked.

  “Isn’t that how it works? The cycle of abuse or some shit?”

  “The term, ‘cycle of abuse,’ is only used when people talk about trying to break it. I’d like to think I know people well, Zach, and you are the furthest thing from abusive.”

  “Yeah, well, I thought I knew you,” he said as he brought his beer to his lips.

  “I know you’re upset with me right now, and any questions you have, I’ll answer on the spot,” I said.

  “Like I said, more pressing things at hand.”

  He was closing himself off from me. I could feel the barricades slamming down around him. He was locking me out. Instead of wrapping me in his arms like I was hoping he would do, he was keeping distance between us, and the rift just kept on growing.

  “Would you want to be raised in a foster home?” I asked.

  “Hell no,” he said.

  “Good, because it fucking sucked. I may not have suffered physical abuse, but I was in plenty of fucked-up homes. Homes with people who kept locks on their pantries because they thought foster children were thieves. Homes where I was nothing but a warm body that brought them a monthly paycheck. Homes where I was the one doing everyone’s laundry and I was the one serving everyone food and I was the one sleeping on the couch and living out of a trash bag. A trash bag, Zach. My stuff was trash to people.”

  His eyes slowly rose from the drink in his hand and connected with mine. I knew I was becoming more emotional than I needed to be. I knew I had no right to feel the way I did. But Zach needed to understand the reality of the situation. The reality of what his daughter might just slip into.

  “I’ve got no right to tell you what to do,” I said. “But before you make this decision for your daughter, I figured you should hear what things are really like from someone who endured it.”

  I wiped at a tear before it fell down my cheek and tossed my gaze out the one window in this whole damn house. I didn’t know what I was doing anymore. I didn’t know why I was still trying to help Zach. I didn’t know why I was still wanting to help him or why I was still being drawn back to him.

  But there was a part of me that was still hoping he would wrap those strong, tattooed arms around me and pull me into his body.

  “Come on,” Zach said. “There’s somewhere I want you to go with me.”

  “Where are we going?” I asked.

  “Just get up,” he said.

  I grabbed my car keys and shoved them into my pocket before we got on his motorcycle. Forty minutes later, we were teetering on the Oregon-Washington state line on the back of his bike. I took advantage of the fact that I got to wrap my arms around him.

  I pressed deeper into his body than I ever had because something in my gut told me it would be the last time. I could feel Zach’s body shaking with energy. I could feel his body tensing with every mile that blew past our bodies.

  The moment we pulled into the cemetery parking lot, I knew where he was taking me.

  “Zach, are you sure?”

  “Just shut up, and come on,” he said.

  He didn’t offer me his hand, but instead, walked in front of me. The trees were rustling in the breeze as we walked down a winding path. We passed gravestones that were massive and mausoleums built in honor of entire families that had passed away.

  I looked away from the tombstones that were far too little to be in a place like this. My heart sank to my stomach as we worked our way to the edge of the cemetery, to a plot with a small headstone coming into view. It was shaded by the trees that outlined the entire cemetery.

  My eyes scanned over the headstone, and I sighed. It was plain, with no embellishments and no quote carved into the granite to signify something important about the life Zach was remembering. All that was engraved was the birth and death date of the woman whose name was carved into the top of the headstone.

  “Melissa Harte Laine,” I said. My fists clenched at my sides as we continued to stand there in silence.

  “My father is Kent Laine, of Kent Enterprises,” Zach said.

  “I know,” I said lightly.

  He slowly turned his head to look at me, and the guarded stare he gave me broke my heart. Whatever it was I was fruitlessly clinging to was gone.

  The look of adoration he had once given me had turned to ice and fallen away the moment I slammed that birth certificate into his chest. In the back of my mind, I knew this was going to happen. It was why I kept putting off telling him the truth in the first place.

  It didn’t make his expression hurt any less.

  “There’s a lot going on in my life right now,” he said. “There always has been, but right now, it’s overwhelming me.�
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  “I can only imagine,” I said.

  “Whatever you thought you’d find coming back here, it’s not going to work. I can’t make things work between us.”

  “I understand,” I said.

  “Between this stuff with Marlie, and you living in Seattle, and the fact that I apparently don’t know you at all, I can’t make it work.”

  I had to swallow back my tears at his words as my eyes traveled along his body. “Zach, you don’t have to explain anything to me. I get it.”

  “Do you really?” he asked.

  His entire face turned toward mine, and I committed every detail to memory. I took a mental photograph of his beautiful eyes and studied the strong features of his face. He must’ve looked like his mother because there wasn’t much of his father in his features. I reached up to touch him, and he flinched away. Then he stood up straight again.

  My fingers brushed his hair away from his forehead, and I sighed as I dropped my hand. He had his father’s forehead, and I started wondering if he wore his hair long to cover it up.

  “You must look like your mother,” I said.

  “I’m all him,” Zach said.

  “No,” I said. “You’re not.”

  His eyes connected hard with mine, and his face melted into stone. I dropped my gaze to his chest and conjured the memory of his warmth one last time. Once I walked away from this cemetery, I would never see Zach again. He would be gone, traveling his path alone as I scrambled to figure out where the hell my life was taking me now.

  I wanted to tell him I’d quit my job, and I could stay here longer and help him figure things out. I wanted to throw my arms around him and beg for his forgiveness and tell him that I was still the woman he had gotten to know. That nothing about myself as a person had been a lie.

  “Why did you bring me here?” I asked. “What was the point?”

  Zach’s eyes hardened before he turned his gaze back down to his mother’s grave. “I made my mother a promise, and now I’ve kept it.”

  I knew better than to ask what that promise was, but it didn’t stop me from wondering.

  I nodded. “I’ll catch a cab.”

  “I’ll take you back. Don’t worry.”