5. Chapter Five
Chapter Five
Bella
I ’m standing in the center of yet another living room that smells faintly of mildew and disappointment. The agent, Roger, gestures halfheartedly at the peeling wallpaper, trying to sell me on its “vintage charm.” He’s been working hard to keep his patience, but I can feel it wearing thin, and to be honest, so is mine.
“And the rent is $1,800 a month,” he says as he forces a smile that doesn’t reach his eyes.
I flinch. “$1,800? Roger, this place is barely holding itself together. Did you see the ceiling in the bathroom? It looks like it’s one shower away from caving in.”
Roger exhales loudly and pinches the bridge of his nose. “Bella, I’m not the one setting the prices. It’s the market. You wanted affordable, and this is as close as it gets in Cedar Ridge.”
“Affordable?” I snort. “For $1,800, I expect walls that aren’t threatening to crumble if I sneeze too hard.”
He claps his binder shut with a sharp snap. “Okay, I’ve had enough. Bella, this is the sixth house I’ve shown you this week. And every single time, you’ve found something wrong with it. Either the price is too high, or the windows aren’t big enough, or—”
“Because they’re terrible!” I interrupt, throwing up my hands. “Do you want me to pay top dollar for a house that looks like it’s about to be condemned?”
Roger’s face flushes red as he steps closer, pointing an accusatory finger at me. “You’re wasting my time. If you can’t afford anything, then stop dragging me around town like your personal tour guide. Just stay in your old apartment if it’s so much better!”
His words hit like a slap, and my chest tightens with anger and humiliation. “You think I want to be here? You think I’m just doing this for fun?” My voice trembles, and I hate that it does. “I’m trying to find a place I can afford, where my son can have a better life, and I don’t need your attitude on top of everything else!”
Roger throws up his hands in mock surrender. “Whatever, Bella. Call me when you’re serious.” He storms out, leaving me in the middle of the sad little house, fuming and fighting the sting of tears.
I take a deep breath and square my shoulders. No way am I crying over this. Not today.
The walk back to my café should help me cool off, but Cedar Ridge seems determined to test my patience today. As I turn onto Main Street, I spot Marlene outside the bakery, chatting animatedly with another woman I don’t recognize. They’re leaning close, with their heads together like they’re plotting something.
I wouldn’t have spared them any attention if I hadn’t caught my name drifting through the air.
“…Bella and Luke,” Marlene says. Her voice is low, but not low enough. “You know, everyone’s saying Ryan is back to marry her and adopt the boy.”
The other woman gasps. “Really? That’s…well, I guess it makes sense, right? His brother is gone, and she’s already raising the kid.”
My blood boils. Before I can stop myself, I march right up to them with my hands on my hips. “Excuse me? What are you two gossiping about?”
Marlene startles, her cheeks flushing. “Bella! Oh, we were just—uh—”
“Save it,” I snap. “I heard what you said. What’s this nonsense about Ryan marrying me and adopting Luke?”
Marlene fidgets with the strap of her purse, avoiding my gaze. “It’s just…rumors, Bella. You know how this town is. People talk.”
The other woman, who now looks like she regrets ever leaving her house, tries to melt into the background, but I’m not letting her off that easy. “And you’re spreading those rumors? About me and my son?”
Marlene raises her hands defensively. “I’m not spreading anything! I just heard it. Everyone’s saying Ryan is back to settle down with you. It’s not like that’s a crazy idea.”
I glare at her, and my hands curl into fists. “Well, let me make one thing clear: Ryan and I are not getting married. He’s not adopting Luke, and I don’t know where this ridiculous story originated. So maybe you should stop listening to ‘everyone’ and mind your business.”
The other woman stammers an apology and quickly excuses herself, leaving Marlene to face the full brunt of my anger. “Bella,” she says, her voice small, “I didn’t mean anything by it. I just thought you should know what people are saying.”
“Well, now I know,” I snap. “And if I hear you repeating this nonsense again, you and I will have a real problem.”
Without waiting for a response, I spin on my heel and storm off, my heart pounding. This is ridiculous. Absolutely ridiculous. And I know exactly who I need to talk to.
***
I spot Ryan through the diner’s glass wall on my way back to the shop. I was already wondering how to reach him, so this feels like a sign. He’s sitting in a booth with a cup of coffee and a plate of fries. He looks up when I approach, and his brow furrows in confusion.
I blink.
He was almost cute for a second there.
“Bella?” he says, setting down his mug. “You look like I should be scared of you right now. What’s going on?”
“What’s going on?” My voice is sharp enough to cut, and he winces. “I’ll tell you what’s going on. People in this town say you’re back to marry me and adopt Luke. Care to explain that?”
He blinks at me, clearly caught off guard. “Wait, what? Where did you hear that?”
“Everywhere!” I cross my arms, glaring down at him. “Marlene just told me half the town thinks we’re planning a happy little family reunion. Did you start this rumor?”
Ryan looks genuinely baffled, but I’m too angry to care. “Of course I didn’t start it,” he says. “Why would I want people to think something like that?”
“I don’t know,” I snap. “Maybe you thought it’d be funny. Or maybe you believe it.”
“Believe it?” He leans back, looking at me like I’ve lost my mind. “Bella, I haven’t even been here a week. When would I have had time to start a rumor like that?”
“I don’t know, Ryan! But it’s out there and people are talking, which is making my life miserable.”
He sighs and rubs a hand over his face. “Okay, calm down, okay? I don’t know who started this, but it wasn’t me. And for the record, I don’t think it’s a terrible idea.”
I freeze. “Excuse me?”
“You heard me.” He shrugs, a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. God, I want to slap it off his face. “I mean, think about it. It’d shut people up, and it’d probably make things easier for both of us.”
I stare at him as my jaw practically hits the floor. “Are you seriously suggesting we get married just to appease the rumor mill?”
“Well, that’s too far. A fake relationship would work, though,” he says, like it’s the most reasonable thing in the world. “It’s not like we’d be tying the knot.”
“Oh, great,” I say, my voice dripping with sarcasm. “So now you want to fake a relationship? That’s your brilliant solution?”
“It’s better than screaming at each other in public,” he says, raising an eyebrow. “Which, by the way, we’re doing right now.”
I glance around and realize he’s right. The few other diners are watching us. Their eyes dart between us, and my face burns with embarrassment.
“Unbelievable,” I mutter, turning back to him. “You are unbelievable.”
“Thank you,” he says with a grin that makes me want to throw his coffee in his face.
“This isn’t funny, Ryan,” I snap. “I’m not playing along with your ridiculous plan.”
“Fine,” he says, leaning forward, his expression suddenly serious. “Then what’s your plan, Bella? Because if you keep yelling at me like this, people will assume the rumors are true.”
I open my mouth to respond, but no words come out. Because, as much as I hate to admit it, he has a point. And that only makes me angrier.
“I hate you,” I mutter, grabbing my purse.
“No, you don’t,” he calls after me as I storm out of the diner.
I hate the Blackwoods.
***
Life doesn’t magically fall back into place after I met with Ryan at the diner. Instead, the gossip around town seems to grow louder. Marlene, who’d once been a semi-regular at my café and someone I occasionally traded polite small talk with, stops coming altogether. Even when we cross paths on the street, she pretends not to see me. She keeps her nose turned up as if I’ve done something personally offensive. It hurts, but I have no energy to let her actions get under my skin.
I’m drowning in enough stress as it is. The shop is struggling. Actually, “struggling” is a generous word for the pitiful state of business. A sleek new coffee shop, Java Haven, opens across town, and it’s the kind of place that appeals to people who want Instagrammable lattes and free Wi-Fi.
It’s not long before I begin seeing faces I know at Java Haven. My favorite is Mrs. Grayson, who’d always come in for a plain black coffee with a single sugar. And then there’s Will, the high school senior who’d grown up in my shop—first with his parents, now with his friends. Each day without them showing up at my door, their absence leaves me writhing with hurt. They don’t owe me loyalty, but I can’t help feeling betrayed.
Sales plummet. My café is almost always empty, aside from the odd passerby who comes in for a wander or a regular who drops by for a drink. Rent, utilities, and inventory bills are piling up more quickly than I can pay them. I’m in deeper debt than ever before, and my idea of running a successful café is crumbling around me.
One morning, I show up to start working for the day. My footsteps are heavy, and everything lays heavy on my shoulders. As soon as I open the door, I spot a folded letter on the floor just inside. It was tucked behind the doorframe, and the sight of it instantly rattles my nerves.
Leaning my bag on the counter, I open the letter and read the lines in unfeeling black ink.
Notice of Foreclosure .
I freeze. My hands shake as I read, my brain struggling to make sense of the harsh reality staring back at me. The bank is taking my café. They’re ordering me to shut down the entire place.
For a few minutes, I sit there and stare at the letter, willing the words to change. My café—my livelihood, my passion—is slipping away. I’ve built this place from the ground up, creating a space where this community feels safe and comfortable. And now, it’s being ripped away from me.
My eyes sting with the threat of tears, but I roll them violently, forcing the emotions back. Not today. I’m not about to break down. Luke deserves better than this.
But frustration claws at my chest. I have no one to turn to and no way to salvage this mess. Every solution is a dead end, and every possible path is blocked. I’m completely out of options.
Later that day, as I sit behind the counter, slumped and lost in thought, I spot Marlene strolling past the shop. Her pace slows, and for a moment, she glances through the window.
Without hesitation, I push my pride aside and run out to catch her.
“Marlene!” I call, my voice too loud, too desperate.
She stops and looks up, her face immediately guarded. “Bella,” she says tightly.
“I need to find out where Ryan is staying,” I blurt out, skipping any attempt at small talk. “Please.”
Her eyebrows shoot up in surprise. “Why?”
“Just tell me. Please. It’s important.”
She hesitates for a moment, then sighs. “He’s staying at his family home this weekend, where his Aunt Linda lives. You know the place.”
Oh, I know it, all right. Ryan’s family home is the biggest property in Cedar Ridge. It’s a sprawling estate that intimidates you before the gates even open.
“Thanks,” I mutter, already turning to leave.
“Good luck,” she calls after me, though it sounds more like a dismissal than genuine encouragement.
Later that day, I find myself in front of Ryan’s family home. The stone walls look cold and serious, with tall windows and dark shutters that seem to watch my every move. The lawn is perfect, the kind you see in magazines, like a green carpet rolled out for someone important. Two big oak trees sit by the entrance, and their shadows stretch across the driveway, making the space feel even more intimidating.
I stop at the door as my heart beats so fast that it might burst. I don’t want to be here, but I’ve come too far to walk away now. Taking a deep breath, I reach out and press the doorbell.
The door opens almost right away. A servant dressed in a neat uniform looks at me with a polite but blank expression. “Good afternoon,” she says in a calm voice. “How can I help you?”
“I’m here to see Ryan,” I say confidently.
The servant nods, then steps aside to let me in. “Please come in,” she says.
The inside of the house is just as fancy as I remember. The floors still shine like glass, and the ceiling is so high it feels like I’m in a museum. A huge chandelier hangs in the middle of the ceiling, sparkling with a million tiny lights. Everything looks perfect, spotless, and ridiculously expensive. It makes me feel out of place.
“Mr. Ryan will be with you shortly,” the servant says before disappearing down a hallway.
My nerves twist tighter with each passing second. When Ryan finally appears, he looks as calm and composed as ever, with his hands casually tucked into his pockets.
“Bella.” He sounds surprised. “To what do I owe this surprise visit?”
I shift uncomfortably, suddenly aware of how awkward this is. “I need to talk to you about…your proposal.”
His eyebrows lift. “My proposal? Oh, you mean the fake relationship arrangement I mentioned?”
I nod, unable to meet his gaze.
He stares at me momentarily, then lets out a low whistle. “Wow. I didn’t think you’d show up for this.”
“I don’t have a choice,” I say, my cheeks heating up. “The bank is taking my café. I don’t know what else to do.”
His face softens a little, but he still looks unsure. “So you’re here because you’re desperate.”
Ouch .
“Yes,” I admit. “I’m desperate. But that doesn’t mean I’m not serious about this.”
He leans back against the wall, crossing his arms. “This isn’t a joke, Bella. If we do this, we have to make people believe it. Everyone will think we’re in love and planning a future together. Are you ready for that?”
“I don’t have any other options. You said this could help both of us.”
He watches me for a long moment, his face hard to read. Then he sighs. “Alright. Let’s talk about the rules.”
We move to the living room. This room is also huge and fancy, with big windows and furniture that looks like no one’s ever used it. Everything about it makes me feel like I don’t belong here.
Ryan starts laying out his terms. “I’ll take care of the money,” he says. “You and Luke won’t have to worry about anything.”
“And what do you want from me?”
“You have to act like my fiancée,” he says. “We must make everyone believe this is real. And no feelings,” he adds after a pause. “This is just business.”
“Okay.”
“And this won’t last forever,” he continues. “Six months. After that, we’ll break it off and return to our normal lives.”
“Fine.”
The talk is tense and uncomfortable. Neither of us says more than we need to, and every word feels heavy. By the time we finish, I’m exhausted.
Ryan walks me to the door, his face still unreadable.
“This will work.”
I nod, even though I’m not sure either of us believes it.