Page 28 of Fake To Forever

“Do you want to talk about it?”

She bites her bottom lip, casting her eyes towards the large stone fireplace in my living room before her shoulders sag a bit in defeat. “It’s just that… my mom is sick. Really sick. Dying, in fact, and all she wants is to see me married and happy before she goes, but that’s the furthest thing from my mind right now. And I can go talk to my best friend Marie about it… I wanted the comfort of someone who isn’t going to lecture me about my romantic life.”

“Oh, shit,” I gasp, completely caught off guard. “I’m so sorry, Haven. I had no idea. I mean, your brother told me before your mom was sick, but I had no idea it was that bad.”

“Really?” she asks, furrowing her brows. “He never told you?”

I shake my head, letting out a heavy breath. “No, he didn’t.”

A small smile lines her lips as she lets out a scoff that almost sounds like laughter. “That sounds about right. He likes to keep things to himself if he can. He’s always been like that.”

“Is there anything I can do?” I ask after a moment, searching her face for any sign that I can help her in some way. The fact that I’ve known her brother for years and he never as so much told me what was going on eats at me.

“It’s fine,” she whispers, clasping her hands together in her lap. “I don’t know why, but… when I left the hospital, I couldn’t think of anyone but… you.”

“Me?”

She shrugs with a small nod, turning to me once more. “It’s stupid, but yeah.” Pushing to her feet, she turns to face me and shakes her head. “I’m sorry, this was a mistake. I should go… I shouldn’t be bothering you with all of this.”

“No, wait… don’t go.” I reply, standing to my feet as I take her hand. “You don’t have to leave. I know we don’t know each other that well, but I want to be here for you. Even if you just need to cry your eyes out in my living room or something. I’m not the greatest at giving advice in this kind of situation… but I can be a good listener.”

She stares at me, clearly trying to fight back the tears that line her eyes. Everything about this woman has captivated me since the moment I met her. And maybe it’s the thought of losing Oliver leaving me panicked, of the sight of Haven so upset that’s got me wanting to solve her problems along with my own.

And technically, there is a solution to both of our problems, in this room.

“Christian, I…”

“Marry me.” The words are past my lips before I fully realize I’m speaking them. My own mind doing a somersault as I try to process what the hell I just said.

It’s completely ridiculous on all fronts, but I mean—what the hell?

Haven gapes at me like a fish out of water. Her eyes wide, and her mouth open. Part of me instantly regrets asking. She made it clear that she just wanted to be friends and here I am acting like a fucking crazy person asking her to marry me.

“What?”

“Marry me,” I say again, after clearing my throat. “Look… I know it sounds crazy?—”

“It is crazy,” she scoffs, taking a step back from me. “It’s completely fucking crazy.”

“Yeah… well, that might be the case. But hear me out. If we got married, Oliver would have a good mother figure in his life, which will help me maintain custody, and you’d be able to make your mother’s final wish come true.”

Haven looks overwhelmed and bewildered, but I can tell she’s also intrigued by the way she’s biting her bottom lip.

“Are you sure about this? Because it really is crazy, Chris. I mean—like really crazy.”

“I am,” I assure her, my tone heavy with conviction. “Listen, it doesn’t have to be forever. Maybe a year. Long enough for me to win my custody case and for you to make sure your mom… goes in peace. Then, if you want to run away from me forever, you can.”

Her eyes widen slightly and the color drains from her face, but then she squeezes her eyes shut and shakes her head. It only takes a moment before she’s looking at me again, and when she does, there is determination in her eyes.

“Right… okay. That makes sense. I can do a year. I mean, I already feel like I’m losing my mind with everything else going on so—why not. What else do we need to figure out?”

The fact that she’s agreeing makes me smile. For a moment, I was seriously expecting her to run out of my house screaming, telling me I’m insane and need help.

But she isn’t. She’s actually agreeing to it.

“It would only have to be a marriage in name only. I wouldn’t have any, um, expectations of you.”

I feel my cheeks burn as mortification pulses through me. It’s so freaking awkward to have to assure her that I won’t try to sleep with her if she marries me. I mean, if she wants to sleep with me, I definitely won’t object to it.

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