Page 79 of Faking with Three

I glare at him, but I can’t argue. They’re both right, and that’s what makes it worse. I wasn’t prepared for Mrs. Chase’s lineof questioning or the protective warmth she offered Ethan and even Jax. Compared to them, I feel like an outsider—and I hate that.

I know my relationship with Olivia borders on inappropriate. The fact that I’ve known her since she was a teenager would raise red flags around me, and I haven’t let myself really think about it. The god honest truth is that I had never imagined bumping into Olivia like this, so many years later. Heck, I never imagined I would be divorced by forty. And here I am—falling for a woman almost two decades younger than me, falling deeply.

“She thinks I’m too old for her daughter,” I say, more to myself.

I expect Ethan and Jax to make fun of me. Instead, Ethan says, “Age is relative. Remember, my bandmates dumped me from the band I made because I was too old for them.”

“That was kind of on you, bro,” Jax says. “That was a shitty band.”

“Thanks for the criticism, I’ll pass it on to them,” Ethan says, rolling his eyes.

We head into the garden because Mrs. Chase—or Amelia as I used to know her—thinks her house isn’t ready for visitors.

“It’s just very messy inside,” she says, fussing with a blanket strewn over the couch before she ushers us towards her garden.

The sunlight in the garden is filtered through a canopy of trees, casting dappled patterns on the carefully tended flowers. Rows of marigolds, snapdragons, and petunias line the path. It’s beautiful.

Olivia’s mom, Mrs. Chase, walks ahead of us, hands clasped behind her back like a tour guide showing off her prized exhibit. “This garden has been my little project for years,” she says. “Olivia used to help me plant tulips when she was little—until she decided playing in the dirt was for peasants.”

Olivia laughs, nudging her mom gently. “I was seven, and I was going through a princess phase.”

“Phase?” Mrs. Chase raises an eyebrow. “If I recall, you refused to eat vegetables because ‘princesses only eat cake.’”

“That’s fair,” Jax interjects, smirking. “I mean, cake is the food of royalty.”

Ethan chuckles. “Explains why Olivia’s such a pain on set. We’ve been catering to royalty this whole time.”

“Oh, shut up,” Olivia says, rolling her eyes but smiling.

As we wander deeper into the garden, the crew sets up cameras near a patch of sunflowers. Ethan leans down to inspect one of the blooms, pretending to analyze it like a scientist. “So, Mrs. Chase,” he says, straightening. “What’s your secret? These flowers are thriving.”

She smiles, clearly enjoying the attention. “Lots of patience, a little love, and plenty of compost.”

“Patience, love, and crap,” Jax quips. “Sounds like a solid recipe for life.”

Mrs. Chase laughs. “Exactly. And don’t let anyone tell you otherwise.”

Olivia walks ahead, crouching near a patch of daisies. Her hair catches the sunlight, and everything else seems to fade for a moment.

“Marcus,” Mrs. Chase’s voice pulls me back. She’s watching me, her expression thoughtful. “Can I steal you for a moment?”

I glance at Olivia, who’s busy pointing out something to Ethan, and nod. “Of course.”

Mrs. Chase leads me toward a small bench near the edge of the garden, away from the others. The crew has started positioning Jax and Ethan near the sunflowers for some promotional photos, leaving us in relative privacy.

“Marcus,” she starts, folding her hands in her lap. “I know Olivia values your friendship, but I need to ask—what are your intentions with my daughter?”

The question feels like a sucker punch, but I manage to keep my composure. “I care about Olivia,” I say, choosing my words carefully. “She’s… special. And I just want her to be happy.”

Mrs. Chase narrows her eyes slightly. “That’s a safe answer. Is that the doctor talking?”

“No, just Marcus,” I say. “I’m putting my heart on a sleeve here.”

She focuses on me. “Back when I was going through a rough patch. I trusted you then. But this is my daughter we’re talking about, Marcus.”

“I know,” I say, my voice steady. “And I’d never do anything to hurt her.”

For a moment, she says nothing, her gaze searching mine. Then she nods, a small smile breaking through. “You’ve got a good heart, Marcus. But if you hurt her, therapist or not, I’ll plant you under my tulips.”

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