Don't Walk Away: A Second Chance Fake Fiance Romance

by Eva Luxe

  “Yeah, good,” I said. “I think that’s enough for tonight.”

  I realized I probably wasn’t going to be able to erase the memory from my mind even if tried. It had been so vivid. It seemed much more permanent than the other memories.

  I pulled out my phone and scrolled to Brian’s number in my contacts list. Was I making a mistake?

  I texted him anyway.

  Let’s meet up at Blue Collar for dinner, after all?

  It was silly and I felt like a middle schooler. But it was also scary and I kept wondering how I would feel if he said no.

  But a moment later, I caught my breath as my phone vibrated. He had replied.

  My pleasure, he said. Should I pick you up?

  I liked that he wasn’t being pushy. He was letting me take the reins. I think I needed that right now. And, because I was afraid of having another panic attack and not being able to get out of there, I decided that him picking me up wasn’t the greatest idea.

  I’ll just meet you there, I texted him. 8 pm?

  Sounds great, he responded. See you there.

  Oh, my God. I officially had a date with my ex boyfriend. That I could kind of remember, just a tiny bit.

  I refrained from doing a happy dance, since my girls would think I had gone insane. I knew it didn’t seem like big progress, but I was celebrating any kind of baby step I was able to take.

  Chapter 12 – Sadie

  Present Day

  On Wednesday, I still couldn’t believe that I had texted Brian and that I was about to see him. I hadn’t regretted it, though— in fact, I’d been anxiously awaiting this moment.

  I tapped my foot impatiently as I stood near the hostess’ podium and looked out the window, wondering when– or if?— Brian would show. For all I knew, he had gotten tired of this back and forth. But then I saw his handsome frame strolling down the sidewalk in front of the restaurant, and his strong arm pulling open the door. I let out a deep breath I hadn’t even realized I’d been holding in.

  I was always punctual, but I was impressed to see that Brian was too. I still didn’t know that much about him, despite the one wonderful memory I could still remember, of the first time we had ever met. I didn’t even technically know whether that memory was accurate, but I had a feeling it was.

  “Thank you for meeting me,” I said, when he arrived. “I know you probably think I’m a crazy lady because I asked you to go away and then texted you to reschedule but—”

  “Don’t,” he said. He was smiling and his eyes were drowning deep. “I’m happy you texted me. I’m happy to be here.”

  I smiled and reminded myself to keep breathing. He had literally taken my breath away. He looked amazing. He wore dark jeans with Italian loafers and a wine-red, collared shirt that brought out the beiges in his stylishly messy hair.

  I felt a little out of place. I had put on the proverbial little black dress and kitten heels. I’d pulled my hair up into a bun and put on silver jewelry. But everyone here was dressed up so fancy, and I hadn’t ever been on a date or even to a place like this.

  I told myself I had better things to do— like train my cheerleaders— but a part of me knew I was closing myself off to relationships, to love. Until recently, when I had met Brian. Or, re-met him, I guess I should say.

  “You look beautiful,” he said. “And I don’t think you’re a crazy lady at all.”

  I smiled, glad that he had broken the ice on what felt to me like our first date, my first date ever. Even if the “old me” had been on dates with him, I didn’t remember, so to me, this was all very new and exciting.

  We walked into the restaurant, while Brian explained that it morphed from one thing to another depending on the day or night.

  “I love this place, because in the mornings, it’s a breakfast and brunch place, then they serve lunch, then it becomes a fancy restaurant for dinner, and then in a few more hours it turns into a bar and club. Talk about a versatile use of space.”

  We both laugh, but I can’t help but wonder how many other girls he had taken here. The lifestyle he had been living before he and I had re-met. It was only natural and fair to assume he had been the typical “player,” not just of football but women too. He was a gorgeous, talented, and very rich guy.

  Naturally he wasn’t going to just sit on the bench in the dating game, hoping I would change my mind after telling him to leave. But I didn’t really want to think about all the things he had been doing in the meantime.

  Instead, I looked around at the surroundings. Brian was right—Blue Collar was the place to be no matter the day or time. The restaurant was classy with a terrace out onto the water of Biscayne Bay and Brickell Key. The sun was setting, and the water sparkled like diamonds.

  We sat down. He ordered whiskey. I asked for sparking water. Suddenly, I didn’t know what to say. I took a deep breath.

  “I’m sorry about Sunday,” I said.

  Brian shook his head, but I wanted to explain.

  “The thing is, lately I’ve been remembering things. About you.”

  I watched his face carefully. A flicker of emotion crossed his face, but I couldn’t place it.

  “I keep forgetting them again, though,” I said. “And that scares me. Knowing I’ve lost something and having it back to have it ripped away again are two different things.”

  Brian nodded. “I can understand that.”

  His eyes were a cerulean blue, so deep and so bright I felt like I could fall into them and never swim up to the surface again.

  I looked down at my glass, watching the little bubbles travel to the top and bursting on the surface.

  “I wanted to ask you something,” I said. “About a memory I can remember.”

  Brian nodded, and this time, I recognized the expression on his face. Curiosity. A glimmer of hope.

  I feared hope. It had let me down so many times. And obviously it had let him down too, in large part because of me. But it was something we held onto like it would keep us afloat in an ocean of despair.

  “Okay, ask,” Brian said in a very soft voice.

  I took a deep breath and explained that night to him, the smells, the sights, the sounds. The taste of summer and possibility on my tongue.

  He was quiet the entire time, until I finished. When I looked up at him, he looked raw, as if he’d been pulled apart.

  “Is it real?” I asked. “Sometimes, I remember things that never happened.”

  I shook my head. “I know it sounds crazy.”

  Brian shook his head, too. “It’s not crazy,” he said. “And yes, it’s real.”

  I felt suddenly like I wanted to cry. A lump sat in my throat that I couldn’t swallow down. I took a deep breath, trying to regain control of my emotions.

  “We were in love, weren’t we?” I asked.

  Brian nodded slowly.

  “We were. Since that night.”

  He didn’t say anything more. I think that he was scared to say more, to push again. I didn’t blame him.

  I sipped my water, trying to make sense of it all. Why now?

  “I don’t know what to do,” I said. “All of this feels strange. I’ve taught myself to move on, to live without everything.”

  I let out a breath with a shudder. My whole body was tense.

  “I know it’s hard,” Brian said. “I can’t begin to imagine what it’s like. But I’m here for you, if you want to talk.” He made a movement like he wanted to reach out to me, but he didn’t. I wasn’t sure if I was happy about it or disappointed.

  “You can talk to me, whenever you need to,” he said. “I’m here. Sometimes it helps if someone knows what you’ve been through.”

  He was right. The only people left in my life, now, only knew about what had happened in theory, if at all. None of them had been there. Brian was the only one left.

  Somehow, I was glad that it was him.

  At the end of the night, he walked me back to my car. Although we’d had more than a pleasant evening, silen
ce hung over us, as if he was unsure what to do.

  I know he wanted to kiss me. I wanted that too. But a kiss held a lot of unspoken things, including promises sometimes, especially in a situation such as this. But it was too early to be making promises I might not be able to keep.

  I nodded at him and then ducked into my car, leaving everything hanging between us, just as things had been for the past five years.

  Chapter 13 – Brian

  The first preseason game was always the best to watch. None of the key players took part. It was a perk we got as the stars of the show. Instead, we watched the game along with the spectators and enjoyed it the way normal fans did.

  I sat next to Coach Rudi, and we watched the B team players get their asses kicked.

  Coach laughed when one of them got tackled into the ground like the guy was plowing the dirt with him.

  “I love it when I can pick off the weaklings,” he said. “These games are my favorite.”

  I wasn’t sure if I was supposed to laugh about it or not.

  “Was that what you did with us?” I asked.

  Coach laughed again. He was in his element, loving every moment. “You know it. But you were good from the start. There was no way I was going to lose you or Hanson or some of you other dickheads.”

  Dickheads. Nice to know we were appreciated.

  The game was okay. They didn’t have a lot of skill. It was mostly raw talent. Even though they played their best, they still lost.

  I didn’t matter, though. It was a preseason game. Our games were the ones that really influenced the league, and it was a month and a half before we really got into it.

  Hanson appeared next to me.

  “Lacey is taking Liam to her mom tonight. They’re not coming back until tomorrow, and the boys want to hit the town. Are you coming?”

  I shook my head. “I’m not in the mood to party tonight.”

  Hanson pulled a face. “Come on, how often do I get to just let loose? It will be fun, like old times. Minus the women for me. What do you say?”

  I smiled at him. “Maybe just a drink or two,” I said.

  I had mentioned to him that Sadie and I were still talking, but, I had purposefully done it while we were in the weight room and he was in the middle of a hard rep. I hadn’t wanted to go into details or let his well-intentioned but perhaps off the mark advice cloud my head. I still had no idea what to think about where Sadie and I stood.

  Hanson and I got dressed and headed out. When we arrived at the party, it was loud, the crowd squeezing against each other. Half of them were already drunk.

  It wasn’t my scene tonight at all. I had a lot on my mind. This used to be the thing I did all the time. I dressed up, went out, and tried to psych myself up about finally really hitting it off with a woman— which I never ended up doing, but I guess at least it had always been nice to have some hope. Tonight, I wanted to go home. I wanted peace and quiet, and maybe to mindlessly browse the Internet.

  “I’m going to split,” I said to Hanson, not even an hour into the night. I had barely touched my drink.

  “Come on, dude,” Hanson said. He was already a few drinks in.

  “I’m tired,” I said.

  “Pussy,” Hanson accused me. But then he nodded and said, “You know what? I think I can understand where you’re coming from.”

  I waited for him to elaborate, which Hanson always does. He likes to have all the attention on himself.

  “This kind of life just isn’t very fun when you have someone you love,” he said.

  I looked at him, wondering if he was going to ask for more agonizing details about Sadie and me, but of course his focus was still on himself. Or maybe he shifted it back there, so as not to make me uncomfortable.

  “Before I met Lacey, this is all I wanted to do. But it’s lost its luster. I don’t want to be with any of these girls, I don’t even want to look at them. I actually miss Lacey and our little man, can you believe it?”

  “Yes,” I told him. “But don’t worry, I won’t call you a pussy like you just called me.”

  We laughed, and I clapped him on the back to show him I was just kidding. I was sincerely happy for him, and I’m sure if I had a baby, I’d miss him too.

  After that, we requested a Lyft and we both left. I wasn’t in the mood to party and obviously neither was Hanson.

  When I got home, I changed into comfortable clothes. I decided I was in need of a good old fashioned read, rather than some stupid Internet thread full of bad news, or people fighting over what the bad news meant.

  I found a book, a legal thriller, and sat down in my living room. I paged to where I’d left my bookmark. I read the same page four times without taking anything in. I closed the book and sighed. I leaned my head back against the couch and closed my eyes.

  Sadie was on my mind. Her face flashed before me, and she was as beautiful as ever. Her gray eyes were unique, her smile curled in a delicate face, a face that I’d known for so long I couldn’t forget about her, even if I wanted to.

  When we were at Blue Collar and she’d told me about the memory, it had been the first time that I’d hoped again. I had given up until then, but the way she’d looked at me when she’d told me about it awoke something in me.

  And she had said that that wasn’t the first time, although it had been the one that stuck so far. If it happened before, it could happen again. More memories could come back, and they could last for real. This could actually be something.

  I couldn’t stop ruminating about the fact that she’d also said that she’d forgotten the previous memories. What if something like that happened again? What if she remembered me to a point where I became something in her life again, only for her to forget me again?

  I didn’t think I would be able to deal with that a second time. When she’d told me she couldn’t do this, after brunch, I should have listened. Maybe I couldn’t do it, either. My lingering doubts were one reason I hadn’t told Hanson just how deep things had gotten between Sadie and me. I didn’t want to look like a fool if everything fell apart again soon.

  Logically, I knew I should leave it in the past. But her eyes, her face, when she’d told me, had looked the way she’d always looked when we were kids. The old Sadie had peeked through at me. The girl I’d fallen in love with back then wasn’t gone. I had the feeling she was hiding behind a curtain that had been drawn, and no one knew that it was all still there. Somewhere. So, emotionally, I couldn’t do what I knew I should.

  Was it just wishful thinking that she could remember me now or at least not forget me again? Maybe. The doctor had told me that her memories might never return. It might not be hiding. Maybe it was just all gone, never to be found again. If that was the case, I was fine with it. I didn’t need her to remember me although that would sure be nice. What I needed, though, was for her to not forget me again.

  But she was remembering things now. Something was still in there. Something she could access.

  I shook my head, trying to get my thoughts straight. This woman was everywhere my mind wandered. I couldn’t think about anything else, and no matter how many times I told myself that it would be better to walk away, I knew that there was no way that I could.

  The only reason I had done it the first time was because she’d asked me to. If that was what she wanted, that was what I would give her. But she had texted me to ask for dinner. I hadn’t pursued her. It had been all her.

  That was something, right?

  I picked up my phone and opened the texts from her again. I used to read over everything she had ever written or typed to me when we were kids, too. I was a romantic sap, hopelessly in love. Was I playing with fire?

  I looked at the time. It was ten already. Quite late to be texting, but I couldn’t just leave it. A part of me figured I should have left it all alone. A bigger part urged me to tap on the screen, and a text took shape.

  Do you want to have a drink with me tomorrow? Just to get to know each other.


  I hit send, and my stomach was suddenly tight with nerves. What if she said no? What if it had all been just to figure out what she was thinking? But I couldn’t do this to myself.

  I would wait until the morning for her reply. It might be too late now. Then, I would know. A whole night of waiting wasn’t as long as I’d waited for her until now, but it could be just as torturous.

  My phoned beeped a moment later.

  I’d love that. Time and place?

  I smiled and replied. It was happening. She wanted to see me again.

  The part of me that still had hope was glad it had won out. And I added even more hope to it— the hope that Sadie and I could have everything we used to have. It was beyond great, and even if she couldn’t remember it, I wanted to give it to her again.

  Chapter 14 – Sadie

  I was excited and nervous to go out with him. This was a date. It wasn’t like the dinner the other night, which I had asked for to discuss what I wanted to do. This was just about spending time together, getting to know each other.

  It felt like I had met someone new, and we were starting from scratch. Being with him wasn’t like being with someone new, though. It was comfortable, like flannel pajamas that had been worn so much the material was soft like the skin of a rose. I knew nothing about him, other than what went on in his professional football life, but being with him felt like coming home.

  I had dressed up a little. Not much, because we were just meeting at a bar, but I had put on black pants, a blue blouse that everyone always told me made my eyes stand out, and I’d blown out my hair and brushed it until it was soft as silk.

  Smokey makeup and subtle jewelry completed the look. I hadn’t dressed up and gone on a date for the longest time. There was once, just after I’d told Brian goodbye, that I’d thought I should try again.

  It hadn’t worked. There was nothing more to say about that.

  When Brian arrived, he looked great. He wore jeans that were faded and hung off his hips like he was doing them a favor. He wore a black, collared shirt with short sleeves and black shoes to go with it. He looked suave and confident.