Page 23 of Fake Married to the Grumps

“This merger isn’t good business,” someone speaks up at the table and the others chorus their agreement in murmurs.

There has to be a way out of this.

***

By the end of the workday, I had finally made my decision about the settlement. I'm determined to help Nelly's company, and I don't mind the challenges that come with it. I already gave her my word.

I just need to pay the victim's family the compensation they're owed and get this whole thing sorted before the merger.The payment will have nothing to do with Hart Holdings.

It will be out of pocket.I’ll use my trust fund if I have to.

Sunny Aerospace couldn’t pay the victims because they couldn’t afford it, but I can.And this way, Nelly’s company will be out of debt by the time we merge.

My board of directors will agree to a merger easily if Sunny Aerospace has no debts. The risk is lesser.

Nelly is in the kitchen when I arrive, and once again she’s cooking something delicious. The entire house smells like garlic. Her eyes light up once I enter the room, and the cheeky smile on her lips widens.

“Hey, you’re back,” she exclaims, then takes off the apron she’s wearing. “Great. I made chicken garlic soup, and I think you’ll love it. I know you love chicken soup.”

I set my briefcase on the dining table and take my time looking at her. “Have you been home all day?” I ask, admiring her as she adjusts the sleeves of her dress.

“Yeah,” she nods. “I made lunch, ate alone, worked on some accounts, then decided to start on dinner in time for you to get back.”

I love the smile on her face. It makes my heart melt, and I want to linger around her for a long time. Her eyes search mine and I’m tempted to stroke the side of her cheeks.

“I uh … Why would you do that?”

She lifts a brow in question, then shakes her head. “What do you mean? You’re asking why I made dinner?”

“Yes,” “It’s not your job to cook for me, Nelly.”

“I know that, but …”

“No buts,” I interrupt. “This marriage is a farce, and you’re free to do whatever it is you want to do, even though we have to live together. You make breakfast, and then dinner, it’s …”

“I was only trying to be kind, Ethan. I was making dinner for myself and thought of making it for you, too. I stayed home all day, wondering how the meeting with your shareholders went, and I thought we could talk about it after you had a warm meal.”

The stony look on her face makes me falter with my next words. “I didn’t mean to snap,” I start to apologize as crease lines deepen on her forehead. “I just … it has been a long day, and a lot has happened. I guess I’m having a hard time adjusting to …” I wave my hand around the kitchen. “… this”

A wistful smile plays out on her lips before she sniffs. “Yeah.” She nods, turns away from me, and heads out of the kitchen. “I’ll leave yours in the fridge if you want it later.”

I’m still standing there after she has left, and the pounding in my temples proves that I won’t be able to rest tonight. Without thinking, I head over to the fridge and grab a can of coconut water.

The smooth drink slides down my throat and eases my boiling insides with its chill.

What do I do about Nelly?

I didn’t think this fake marriage would be so difficult. I mean, it’s Nelly, and I’ve known her for years. This is supposed to be a safe bet, but now it feels more dangerous.

And her kindness makes it difficult.

I grew up with nannies because even when my parents were alive, they never had time for me. Grandpops tried his best to be there for me, but I spent my childhood wishing for my dad’s validation or a mom’s warm hug.

It’s why her being caring softens my heart one inch at a time.

As an adult, I can’t recall the last time I had a home-made meal.

Sighing, I rub my temples and try to keep the ache to a minimum. Minutes later, the rumbling in my stomach worsens, and I finally give in, walking to the fridge and grabbing the bowl she left for me.

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