Page 48 of Fake it 'Til Christmas
ChapterNineteen
Winnifred
“You can’t mean that,”I say, because seriously—he can’t just say things like that and expect me not to short-circuit.I know it sounds redundant, but my brain is doing the conversational equivalent of buffering, and I need time to catch up.
“I don’t fucking know, okay?”he growls, that low, frayed sound he makes when I’ve properly exasperated him.But this time?It doesn’t feel like I’m the one making him unravel.He sounds lost in something I’m not part of yet.
I could ask.I could push.But I’ve got my own internal dumpster fire to manage.The kiss ...we can figure that out after we handle my family.
“My mother knows.”
He blinks.“Excuse me?”
As if I just casually dropped a confession in fluent Cantonese and he’s forgotten he barely passed Spanish II.
“My.Mother.Knows.That.We’re.Dating,” I enunciate, pausing between each word like I’m breaking bad news to a toddler.“And not only that—she wants us at her house for brunch tomorrow.She’s furious your mother learned about us first.Says it’s ‘humiliating’ and ‘borderline betrayal,’ and I quote, ‘this is why no one trusts you to bring the salad for potlucks.’”
Honestly, I thought it was because I came from another state, and bringing food didn’t seem realistic.But let’s not digress about their lack of faith in my abilities to do anything.
“She wants us to have brunch?”Soren’s mouth opens, then closes, then opens again.
“Yes.Tomorrow morning.Full family attendance.She might not forgive me unless I name our first child after her.”
He raises an eyebrow.“What if it’s a boy?”
“Soren.”I pinch the bridge of my nose.“Focus.There’s no children—no babies.”
“You thought you were pregnant?”
And of course, right then—because the universe is nothing but vindictive—his cousin, I think her name is Helena, glides past, pausing mid-sip of champagne with the slow, snaky grace of someone who lives for this shit.
“I’m sorry, what now?”she says, eyes going wide with curiosity and the exact wrong amount of joy.“You’re expecting a baby?”
“No one’s pregnant.”My voice comes too high-pitched.
Soren shrugs.“Not yet.”
“Don’t,” I say, pointing at him.That comeback was locked and loaded—perfect for one of our usual back-and-forths.But right now?We do not need to toss more wood onto the dumpster fire around us.“Not another word.She’s about to announce this to your family.”
I know this because Helena’s already pulling out her phone.
Soren groans before turning his attention to her.“I swear to God, Helena if you text the family group chat?—”
“Too late, Soren,” Helena sing-songs, already typing faster than anyone should with acrylics that long.“This is totally worthy of the family chat.”
Honestly, I don’t think I’m liking this Helena character.Is she really a Thorn?I don’t remember her being part of the town, but ...yeah, this whole show and now telling people I’m pregnant is not funny.
She holds up her phone proudly like she’s just dropped an Oscar-winning performance into the group chat.“You’re welcome for the plot twist no one saw coming.
Soren groans and yanks his phone out of his jacket pocket.“Helena, I swear ...”
He swipes the screen, shows it to me, and?—
“Oh no.”He closes his eyes briefly.“It’s already happening.”
I glance at his phone, and there it is.
Thorn Family Group Chat
