Page 74 of Single Dad's Fake Bride
She nodded and disappeared back upstairs with steps faster than lightning.
I led Kramer to the kitchen and put the kettle on for tea. The space was beautiful—white marble countertops, navy cabinets, and windows that looked out onto the back garden. But it felt too clean, too perfect, as if nobody actually lived here.
"So," Kramer said, settling onto one of the barstools. "How's married life?"
I pulled two mugs from the cabinet and tried to figure out how to answer. "Different than I expected."
"Good different or bad different?"
I opened the pastry bag and inhaled the smells of butter and chocolate. "Both, I think."
He studied my face, but I could see his scrutiny in his eyes. Kramer had a gift for seeing through whatever version of myself I was trying to present to the world.
"Talk to me," he said.
I poured hot water over the tea bags and sat down across from him. "I don't know if I'm cut out for this. It's only been seven days, and I already feel like I'm drowning."
"In what way?"
"Harrison is…" I paused, trying to find the right words. "He's not what I expected. And Eloise is incredible, but I'm getting attached to her in a way that's going to destroy me when this all ends."
He didn't look convinced, but he didn't push. Instead, he reached across the counter and squeezed my hand.
"Sadie, you know you don't have to do anything you don't want to do, right? If this isn't working, if you're not happy, there are other options."
I felt my eyes start to burn. "What do you mean?"
"I mean I could help you find a more permanent teaching position. There's a school in Boston that's been looking for someone with your experience. And there are programs for people caring for family members with health issues. You don't have to depend on anyone else."
The kindness in his voice broke something open in my chest, and I started crying before I could stop myself. Big, ugly tears that I'd been holding back all week.
Kramer came around the counter and pulled me into a hug, rubbing circles on my back the way he had a dozen times before when life got overwhelming.
"It's okay," he murmured. "Honey, oh… It's going to be alright."
I was still crying into his shoulder when I heard the front door open and close. Heavy footsteps crossed the foyer, and then Harrison appeared in the kitchen doorway.
His gray eyes moved from me to Kramer to our embrace, and his expression went completely blank. It was worse than anger—it was the cold, distant look I'd seen him wear around the school board.
"Eloise," he called upstairs, his voice perfectly controlled, "Maya's mom is here to pick you up."
Eloise's footsteps thundered down the stairs. "Bye, Sadie! Bye, Kramer!"
The front door opened and closed again, and then it was just the three of us in the suddenly too-quiet kitchen.
I stepped back from Kramer and wiped my face with the back of my hand. "Harrison, this is my friend?—"
"I should probably head out," Kramer said quickly, reading the tension in the room. He squeezed my shoulder. "Think about what I said, okay?"
I nodded and walked him to the door, acutely aware of Harrison's presence behind us.
When I came back to the kitchen, Harrison was loading the dishwasher with sharp, precise movements.
"You're upset," I said.
"I'm not upset."
"Then why won't you look at me?"
