One Hot Fake: An Accidental Fake Marriage Romance

by Sarah J. Brooks

  I tear my gaze away. Turns out there are several obstetricians in the clinic, and in five minutes, we are shown to an office down the hallway.

  Dr. Ross introduces herself and listens intently as I tell her about my symptoms and a positive pregnancy test.

  “You did well to come in early. That means we can start on the right supplements right away.” She’s young but has wise grey eyes, and I immediately feel comfortable with her.

  “First things first,” she says. “We’ll get a pregnancy test done, and then we can take it from there.”

  She takes us next door to a lab where a lab technician pricks my finger and draws blood. We sit in the waiting room, and after ten minutes, we’re called back to the obstetrician’s office. She doesn’t look as easygoing as she had earlier, and my stomach muscles tighten with anxiety.

  “What’s wrong?” I say.

  “The pregnancy test is reading negative, but that could just be an error. Instead of another pregnancy test, we’ll do a scan,” she says. “From the dates you gave me, you ought to be nine or ten weeks along.”

  I’m numb and not processing anything she says. Declan takes my hand and holds it tightly as we walk to the ultrasound room. I don’t take in anything other than the fact that the sonographer is also a woman.

  “I’ll see you back in my office when you’re done,” Dr. Ross says.

  I follow the sonographer’s instructions like a robot. I lie on the bed, lift my blouse to my ribcage, close my eyes and try to control the rising panic in my chest. I cannot handle another loss.

  She pours the cold jelly on my belly, which transports me to another place and time.

  “I can’t hear a heartbeat,” the sonographer had said.

  I sat bolt upright. “What do you mean? My baby is in there. I know she is.” I’m hysterical, and it takes her almost ten minutes to convince me to lie back down.

  I open my eyes and stare at her face. From my experience, the best way to know whether it’s good or bad news is to look out for the sonographer’s facial expressions. This one is good. She doesn’t twitch a muscle as she stares at the screen and moves the handheld probe over my tummy.

  “Is everything okay?” Declan says.

  She takes the probe away and wipes me down with a towel. “The doctor will talk to you.” She smiles to remove the sting from the words.

  As we walk back to the doctor’s office, we have no idea what to expect. I know it’s serious, though, when I see her solemn expression.

  “What’s going on?” Declan says when we sit down.

  The doctor glances from Declan to me. “Like the blood test, the scan shows an empty uterus. There’s no baby and no signs that there was one.”

  My mouth drops. “I don’t understand. I did a pregnancy test, and it was positive.”

  “She did,” Declan says.

  “I even had the symptoms,” I say, speaking more to myself than the doctor.

  She lets me rant for a few more minutes until I have nothing else to say. I feel as if I’m caught in a nightmare. It’s one thing to lose a baby like I lost Lilly, but to be told there was no baby to begin with. What does that make me? Crazy?

  “You might have had what is called a blighted ovum,” she says, speaking gently. “It’s a fertilized egg that implants itself in the womb, but it doesn’t become an embryo.”

  “I don’t understand,” Declan says.

  I retreat into myself, and the words between Declan and the doctor pass through my ears, but their meaning doesn’t register in my brain. Was I so desperate to be pregnant that my body believed that I was pregnant?

  We leave the doctor’s office. I’m numb with shock, and we don’t speak on the drive home. The numbness melts away and is replaced by pain. Pain so intense that it hurts my whole body, settling in my chest and squeezing. I feel like a fool. The tears wait until we get home. I break down as soon as Declan shuts the front door.

  “Aw, sweetheart,” he says and gathers me in his arms. He slips a hand under my thighs and the other under my arms and lifts me.

  I fist his shirt as he carries me upstairs. My heart is breaking. I’ve been living a dream in the last few weeks. I dreamt that I wanted so badly that my body pretended to be pregnant to appease me.

  I had even estimated the date when our baby was likely to show up when Declan and I would get to hold him or her. Declan lays me gently on the bed and slips my shoes off. He joins me on the bed and holds me tight as I cry my heart out.

  “It’s okay,” he says over and over again.

  “It’s not,” I tell him when I manage to talk. “We lost our baby, Declan.”

  “I don’t think we had him to begin with,” he says.

  That brings fresh tears to my eyes, but after a moment, I realize that Declan is right. Why is it so hard for some people to have babies, and for others, it’s so easy? Women like Samantha’s mother. She walked away from her sweet three-year-old because Leonard would not marry her.

  Declan holds me until I feel myself drifting off to sleep. I don’t fight it. Anything is better than the painful thoughts running through my mind.

  When I wake, I’m covered by a warm cozy blanket, and the lights are off. Confused, it takes a moment to figure out where I am. Then the events of the afternoon come to mind, and I lie in the darkness with tears streaming down my face.

  Finally, I push away the blankets and make my way downstairs. Declan is in the living room staring at the TV, but from his still profile, I doubt that he’s watching the news on the screen. He looks so lost in thought; my heart goes out to him. I’m sure that he’s thinking about our baby. I pad to him and slide onto his lap. That’s when I see the tears running down his cheeks. He tries to wipe them away.

  “It’s okay to cry,” I tell him. “He was real to us.”

  He nods. “And there’s no reason why we can’t try again.”

  I flinch. I can’t think about that, but I can’t tell Declan that now. I don’t respond, and he assumes that I agree with him. We sit like that, holding each other, rocking back and forth. I lose track of time until my stomach growls, and I realize that I haven’t eaten anything all day.

  “I made a vegetable soup,” Declan says. “My grandmother’s recipe.”

  I perk up. “Oh really? How do you make it?” I get up from his lap at the mention of food.

  “You dice any vegetable you can lay your hands on and toss it into a pot and fill it with water. Boil it until you’re ready to eat,” Declan says in a sing-song voice.

  I laugh as I lead the way to the kitchen. Delicious smells greet me, and I go for the pot on the stove. I pull away the cover and dip a stirring spoon. “Looks ready to me.”

  Declan chuckles. “Anything would look ready to you right now. Sit down, and I’ll bring it to you.”

  I turn to face him. “Thank you for being so kind to me.”

  “You’re my wife,” Declan says.

  Am I really? I’m legally married to another man. The euphoria I was feeling moments ago disappears like smoke wafting up the skies. Melancholy settles over me, but I make sure to hide it.

  “How about a movie after dinner?” Declan says as he brings two bowls of soup to the island countertop.

  “Sounds good,” I say with fake cheerfulness.

  Declan hooks a finger under my chin. “You don’t have to be happy for me. I know you’re sad, sweetheart. So am I. We’ll get through this, okay?”

  I bite my lower lip to keep myself from bursting into tears. “I don’t deserve you.”

  “I’m the one who doesn’t deserve you,” Declan says.

  Chapter 30

  Declan

  I hate that Marian has to go to Arlen tomorrow without me, but the equipment is starting to be delivered, and I’ll need to be at the shop. She’s going to meet up with Leonard, and she insists that she’ll be fine, and I have to keep my promise to give her space.

  But what happens when she needs me, and I’m so far away?

  “You’r
e up early,” she says and turns to slip a hand around my waist and lays her head on my chest.

  I hold her close. “I couldn’t sleep.”

  “Is it because I’m going to Arlen tomorrow?” she asks.

  “Maybe.”

  She laughs softly. “You can admit it; I won’t be mad.”

  “Okay. I’m worried that if you need me, I’ll be too far off,” I say.

  “I’ll be fine. I promise. Leonard sounded like he wants to wrap this up. I’ll also sneak in a meeting with Mom and Josh and some vendors. Mom didn’t like the flower vendor. She says their flowers are usually wilted.”

  I shake my head. “I don’t know how you keep people calm and focused on their most important day amidst all the chaos of the preparations.”

  “The good bits outweigh the bad.”

  She caresses my chest and teases my man nipples with her tongue.

  “Are you ready to deal with the consequences of your actions?” I growl.

  “I am,” she says.

  We haven’t made love since the baby episode, and I’m not sure it’s the right time. “Are you sure? Do you need more time?”

  “I’m fine,” she says and looks at me with her emerald green eyes. At that moment, I can happily chop off my arm and give it to her. “I need you.”

  “I’ll be gentle,” I say.

  “I’m tired of gentle,” she declares harshly.

  I ignore that and proceed to make slow sweet love to her. I shut her up by kissing her, exploring her mouth like it’s the first time we’re kissing. She smells so sweet, my Marian. Soon she’s moaning and pleading with me to take her.

  I get between her legs and tease her with the tip of my cock in the way that I know drives her crazy.

  “Declan, please,” she says between gritted teeth.

  I chuckle. I love Marian like this. Aroused and ready to battle for my cock. I bury my cock into her pussy inch by inch. She lifts her hips, and I drawback.

  “If you don’t behave yourself, it’s not going to happen,” I tell her.

  “What do you need me to do?” Marian asks, her voice breathless.

  “Be still, woman,”

  “I can’t make that kind of a promise,” Marian says, throwing back my words at me.

  I chuckle as I press my cock into her again. I close my eyes as her pussy walls close in around my cock, milking it with every squeeze.

  “I don’t know if I can hold it together,” I groan.

  “Oh yes, you can,” Marian says.

  I can, especially if my woman commands me to. I distract myself as pleasure threatens to swallow me alive.

  “You’re so sweet; you know that?”

  “Thanks,” Marian says, tears filling her eyes.

  ‘Don’t cry; this is a happy moment,” I tell her as I pump my cock into her.

  “Tears of pleasure,” she says.

  “That’s allowed.”

  Our lovemaking is different today. We connect on a level that we’ve not reached before. Marian’s cries are sweeter and her orgasm more intense. I keep mine at bay until I’m sure that she’s utterly satisfied. Only then do I allow myself to spill my seed into her sweet body.

  I’m glad that it’s Sunday, and we have no plans for the day other than to laze around the house. Eight-thirty finds us still in bed, alternating between waking up and dozing.

  Marian’s stomach rumbles. “That’s a sign that we do need to get up. I’ll make breakfast.”

  She slips on my shirt and buttons it. She’s a walking temptation with her creamy thighs exposed like that. “Are you coming?” she calls over her shoulder as she pads out of the room.

  “I’m right behind you,” I tell her. I stay behind to fix the bed and throw the windows open. I pop into the bathroom to freshen up and then follow Marian downstairs, clad only in my boxer briefs.

  “Something smells good,” I say when the scent of bacon and eggs hits me as I enter the kitchen.

  Marian turns and flashes me a smile. “First, breakfast, then we’ll go for a walk around my neighborhood.”

  “Good idea,” I tell her. “We haven’t done that here.”

  “Don’t get your hopes up with regards to the view. There’s no ocean and no beach, but there’s a hiking trail that goes up the hills,” Marian says.

  “Sounds good.” I like hiking and running, and anything that involves exercise.

  Marian serves us bacon, eggs, and coffee, and when we’re done, I know that I’ve overeaten. That walk is welcome. I clean up while Marian gets ready. Afterward, I go back upstairs and hunt for a pair of shorts and a T-shirt.

  I slip on a pair of sunglasses and meet Marian downstairs. She hands me a bottle of water.

  “You look hot.” Just looking at her clad in a pair of denim shorts and a sleeveless top sends my senses reeling.

  “Thanks,” she says, her eyes hidden by sunglasses.

  “I love you, Marian Stevens,” I tell her and take her hand. I’m not expecting a response, but I still feel a flicker of disappointment.

  Outside, the weather is perfect for a walk. The sun is out and warm, but not so hot as to burn the skin. The sky is a perfect hue of blue with a single blemish.

  “Days like this make me glad to be alive,” I tell Marian.

  “Yeah, I know what you mean,” she says. “Despite everything, it’s still a beautiful world.”

  “It is.”

  “Do you know your neighbors?” I ask her as we leave the neighborhood and head toward the woods.

  Marian shakes her head. “It’s not that kind of place. People keep pretty much to themselves. What about you? Do you know your neighbors in Santa Monica?”

  “Pretty much,” I tell her. “There’s the couple that lives in the apartment below mine. Peter and Jill. They’re recluses. They never leave that apartment.”

  “Not even to walk on the beach?” Marian asks.

  “Not even to stand on their balcony,” I tell her. A bit of an exaggeration since I’m rarely home myself.

  “I wonder what they do in there?” Marian says.

  “I have a hunch they’re scientists, and their apartment is a laboratory,” I say.

  “Mmmm. They are in the middle of an experiment, which if successful, will rock the foundations of everything we know and are familiar with,” Marian says.

  We go on and on, creating outrageous lives for my neighbors. Marian laughs until tears come to her eyes. My heart soars to know that her sorrow is slowly ebbing away. As sad as I feel about the baby, I’m glad that Marian is okay, and she didn’t come to any harm.

  “Hard to believe that we’re in LA,” Marian says as we walk up the mountain trail.

  “I know. One of the reasons why LA is one of my favorite cities,” I tell her.

  The air is clean here and the view unrivaled. We have a 360-degree view of LA. Marian and I break for water and to admire the view. She looks so thoughtful, looking at our surroundings but not seeing it.

  “What’s on your mind, sweetheart?” I say.

  When she turns to me, I see that her eyes are filled with tears. “I’m just thinking how much I’d have loved to hold our baby if she had been real,” Marian says. “What would she have been like at three years old?”

  I swallow a lump of saliva. My heart squeezes painfully at the grief in her voice. I don’t know how to help her. This feels so beyond me. I need help. The only thing I can do at the moment is to hold her and let her cry again.

  I insist that we turn back and curse myself when I see the lines of exhaustion etched on her face. “You’re going straight to bed when we get back home,” I tell her.

  “No arguments from me,” Marian says.

  Back home, Marian follows my orders, and we go upstairs, where I tuck her into bed. I go back downstairs, restlessness following me like a shadow. I’d assumed that Marian’s loss would be a two or three-day affair. Clearly not. I feel so unequipped to deal with it.

  I fish out my phone and call the one woman I trust i
mplicitly. My brother’s wife, Lexi. She answers on the second ring.

  “Hey, Lexi,” I say.

  “Hello, stranger,” Lexi says.

  “Are you free to go for a short drive? I want to talk,” I tell her.

  “I’m good. I’ll be ready by the time you get here. Ace can do some babysitting duties,” she says.

  “Thanks, sis,” I tell her and disconnect. Lexi and Vanessa are the sisters I never had when growing up.

  I check on Marian before I leave. She’s out like a light. I arrange the covers around her and kiss her lightly on the forehead. I tiptoe out and sprint down the stairs. I want to be back when Marian wakes up.

  It’s a short drive to Ace and Lexi’s house and being Sunday, there’s no traffic. I pull up to the parking lot and walk to the apartment building entrance. I love their complex. It’s perfect for children with a play area made specifically for them. Luna already has plenty of little friends who are her neighbors. It was the same for me and Ace growing up in Santa Monica. The same families have lived in the same neighborhood for years, and we grew up surrounded by the same friends until we became like family.

  The elevator deposits me on the second floor, and I stroll up to their door and knock. Ace flings the door open, with a grinning Luna perched on his hip.

  “Is that my girl?” I ask with exaggerated facial expressions and reach out to take Luna.

  Luna lets out a delighted giggle. “Uncle.” Her words are improving. Not too long ago, she couldn’t say the word.

  I sniff her baby smells and let out a sigh. Pangs of pain come over me as I remember the baby we’d believed was in Marian’s belly.

  Ace and I chat a little before Lexi comes out, and he takes Luna from me. “Twenty minutes and I want my wife back,” Ace says with a growl.

  “Whatever,” I throw back, glad that he trusts me implicitly when it comes to his wife.

  “Stop,” Lexi says. “I’ll stay for as long as Declan needs me.”

  Even if we’re teasing, it’s a sweet thing for Lexi to say. We chat as we go down the elevator and head to the car. I have no destination in mind.

  “Any ideas?” I ask Lexi.

  “Let’s go to the park. It’s not too far from here, and I can have a lemonade,” she says.