Page 77 of A Bossy Proposal

“We put on a good show, didn’t we?” she says, her voice oddly flat. “Your brother seemed impressed.”

I blink, caught off guard by her mention of my brother. “What do you mean?”

Amelia stands abruptly, her chair scraping against the floor. “Nothing. Look, I should get ready. Carly’s expecting me.”

As she turns to leave, I catch her arm and pull her to a stop. “Amelia, wait. What’s going on?”

She hesitates, then whispers, “It’s fine, West. We don’t have to pretend when it’s just us. Save the act for when we’re in public, okay?”

Her words hit me like a punch to the gut.Act?

Before I can respond, she’s pulled away and disappeared down the hall. I’m standing in the kitchen, completely baffled by her words echoing in my mind.

Act? Pretend?

None of this makes sense. Before I can stop myself, I’m striding down the hallway towards her bedroom. The bedroom she chose to sleep in last night when we got home.

She told me she was tired.

I push open the door without knocking. “Amelia, we need to talk.”

She’s standing by her dresser, rifling through clothes. She whirls around, eyes blazing. “Ever heard of privacy, West?”

“What’s going on?” I demand, ignoring her comment. “What did you mean by pretending?”

Amelia’s face contorts with anger. “Oh, don’t act like you don’t know. I heard you last night talking to your brother.”

I rack my brain, trying to remember any conversation that could have upset her. “What are you talking about?”

“Stop it!” she screams, her composure shattering. “Just stop! We’re not real. We’re fake and I refuse to marry you, West. Do you hear me? I refuse!”

The force of her words staggers me. “Amelia, what—”

She cuts me off, flicking her hand in the air. The diamond on her ring finger catches the light.

“This,” she spits out, “is the only thing that’s real in this entire farce. And you know what? You can have it back.”

She yanks the ring off her finger and throws it at me. It bounces off my chest and onto the floor.

“Fake engagement is one thing,” she continues, her voice trembling with emotion. “I agreed to that. But a fake marriage? That’s something else entirely. I won’t do it, West. I won’t live a lie for the rest of my life.”

I stare at her, completely lost. “Amelia, my father has succeeded in rattling you, but the wedding won’t be going ahead—”

“Is that one lie too far?” she asks.

“What the fuck are you ranting about now?”

“Ranting!” Her voice hitches before she laughs bitterly. “Oh, please. I heard you talking with your brother. ‘Putting on a good show,’ he said. ‘Even Amelia looks like she’s falling for you.’ Well, congratulations, West. You’re a better actor than I thought.”

The pieces start to fall into place, but they form a picture that makes no sense. “Amelia—”

“Save it,” she snaps, grabbing a bag and shoving clothes into it. “I’m leaving. Tell the press whatever you want about why the engagement’s off. I don’t care anymore.”

As she pushes past me, I grab her arm, desperate to make her understand. “Amelia, please, just listen to me.“

She jerks away, tears in her eyes. “Don’t touch me. It’s over, West. All of it.”

She disappears out of the bedroom, leaving me staring at her engagement ring on the floor. I’m wondering how everything fell apart.

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