Page 36 of Kicking it with my Fake Fiancé
Before we could continue catching up, our server, a young woman who looked like she’d barely graduated high school, came to take our orders. I asked for eggs Benedict, and though I desperately wanted to order an alcoholic beverage to quell my nerves, I decided against it. I didn’t want to risk anything turning their opinion against me.
Once our order was placed, Peter asked the million-dollar question. “So, what brings you back to the States?”
“Oh, I’d like to branch out. Write about America for a while. I was offered a position as a travel writer with a magazine here. It seemed like a great opportunity, so I jumped on it and here I am.”
“That’s great,” Debra murmured. “They’re sponsoring you for citizenship?”
I swallowed hard and looked at my hands, toying with the hem of my napkin. “Actually, no. Jared is.”
Peter’s brows furrowed. “Jared doesn’t run a business, especially not one that sponsors visas.”
With a deep, slow breath, I nodded. My heart raced as I spoke, and I balled my hands into fists under the table to try and calm myself. Sweat beaded on the back of my neck, a single drop rolling down into my shirt. “No, you’re correct. But we do qualify for the K-1 visa.”
Grace wrinkled her nose. “Isn’t that—”
Before she could say anything, I held up one hand. “Yes. It’s the fiancé visa. Jared and I… well, we’re…together. We have been for a while now. And we’re getting married. We have just over sixty days before we have to be legally joined or I get deported.”
Debra, brows furrowed, spoke up. “I knew Jared was gay, but I didn’t know you were, too.”
“I’m bisexual, actually. I always have been.”
She nodded slowly. “Well, it makes sense. You two were always as thick as thieves. How long have you been together?”
I wanted to be as honest as possible with them, without giving up the actual truth, which was that we’d only decided to get married to get my visa and boost his music career. “It’s hard to pin down an exact date. We’ve kept in touch consistently since my time here. Once we both were in university, we started having weekly calls, either phone or video. After graduation, it intensified. I don’t have specifics. It was just very organic. And now here we are.”
Peter nodded solemnly. “Well, welcome to the family. Again.” A slow smile broke out over his face as he turned to Debra. “Right, hon?”
“Of course!” She wiped her eyes. “I wish he was here to celebrate with us.”
The meal went smoothly after that. My eggs were excellent, and we enjoyed catching up. I told them about some of my articles and they shared stories I was sure Jared would be mortified to hear them tell. When the meal was finished, each of the family members embraced me tightly.
“Welcome to the family,” Peter said. “We’re just glad you’re finally going to make it official.”
My face warmed, pleased that they’d been so unconcerned by the whole situation. “Thank you,” I murmured. “Truly.”
From her seat next to us, Charlie gave me the thumbs-up, grinning wide.
There was a lot to think about on the drive home. I had been welcomed by his family, and Jared would return from the tour in two weeks. Once I stepped back into his—our—house, I looked around, noticing that evidence of my existence was minimal. I’d done it out of fear—fear that we’d end things for one reason or another and my citizenship wouldn’t come to fruition. But no more fear—I needed to embrace where I was in life. I decided to change things around immediately. As I went about the house, putting a few of my books on his shelves, hanging my jackets by his door, and just making my presence known, I decided I needed to make one more change, too.
I went into my bedroom and looked around. The first thing I did was relocate my clothes. Then I put my pillow on Jared’s bed and moved my toiletries into his bathroom. The only things I left in the room I’d stayed in for the past month were my laptop and my camera equipment. We could keep the guest bedroom as an office so I could work without disturbing him, but from then on, I wanted Jared’s room to beourroom. I didn’t want to sleep apart anymore. I wanted to live up to my words.
“I think it’s worth trying,”Jared had said. I’d agreed. I still agreed. And when he returned, I wanted him to see how much I agreed, how much I wanted our relationship to work. How much I wanted to be with him.
I remembered my words to Jared that night.“Ja, I do too.”I did, and I meant it. I was ready to prove it. All that was left was to welcome Jared home.
Chapter Nineteen
Jared
Jared
The house was dark when I stepped inside. I was relieved to be home, my shoulders relaxing as I dumped my bags on the couch in the dark and stumbled to the light switch to illuminate the room. The next thing I did was rummage through the bags until I found the one with the camera. Charlie had texted me and asked me to film our reunion, and so film our reunion I did.
“Matty?” I frowned when he didn’t answer and flipped on more lights as I made my way through the house, holding the camera steady in front of me. It was very late on a Monday—technically it was very early on a Tuesday—and I couldn’t imagine where he might have been besides sleeping. I made my way into his bedroom, but he wasn’t there. My gut twisted and my chest constricted—had he changed his mind and left? The camera wobbled in my hand. Would he do that without telling me? Before I could decide what to do next, I heard Matty’s voice call out, sleepy and confused, from a few doors down the hall.
“Er det deg?”
The center of my chest relaxed and warmed. I loved the way he reverted to Norwegian when his brain was fuzzy, usually during sex or when he was waking up. I especially liked it during sex, for some reason I couldn’t quite pin down.
