When Love Is Unexpected: A Sweet Fake Relationship Friends To Lovers Romance

1. Chapter 1

”Inever meant to hurt you,” I say. ”I”m sorry.”

My on-again-off-again boyfriend, Eric, sits across from me in a booth at one of our favorite restaurants.

”I was only gone for a week,” he says. ”I just bought a house, thinking it could be our home someday.” I can hear the hurt and disappointment in his voice.

”Eric, I”m moving to Boston in three months.”

”But when it”s time to raise a family,” he says, ”You”ll want to be here, surrounded by the people you love.”

I don”t argue because he”s right.

”I don”t want to be in a long-distance relationship,” I finally say.

”Loren and Aaron did it,” he says. ”What do they have that we don”t?”

”Please don”t compare them to us,” I say, ”I love you, Eric, but I”m not in love with you. Deep down inside, I think we”ve both known that.”

”You”re going to throw away what we have because you”re moving two hundred miles away?”

”It”s not just the distance,” I say. “Loren and Aaron got engaged six months after Aaron returned to Cold Spring. It took them six short months to realize they were in love and wanted to spend the rest of their lives together. We’ve been trying to figure out what this is for two years.”

”Laila, I know that what I feel for you is love,” he says. He reaches for my hands, but I move them quickly from the table to my lap.

”Staying together would only prolong the inevitable,” I say. ”I”m sorry.”

”I thank you for your honesty,” he says, taking his wallet out of his back pocket and pulling out a fifty-dollar bill to pay for two cold coffees and a slice of cheesecake he never touched.

”Eric,” I say, but he cuts me off before I can say anything else.

”I wish you all the best with your residency,” he says. ”It”s what you”ve always wanted.” He puts the money on the table and stands up.

When I don”t say anything, he bends over and kisses me on the cheek.

”Goodbye, Laila.”

I watch him walk away, and I take a deep, cleansing breath because I”m glad it”s over.

When I park my car in the driveway, I spot Mom on our front porch. She”s sweeping around the potted plants and flowers by the front door.

”I”m glad you”re home, Sweetheart,” she says in greeting. ”Have you spoken to Loren today?”

”No,” I say, avoiding her gaze.

”What”s wrong?” she asks. Mom can read me like a book.

”I just broke up with Eric.”

”How did he take it?” Mom”s concern for Eric”s feelings shows on her face.

”He told me he loves me,” I say. ”And I broke his heart anyway. I feel awful, Mom.”

”You can”t force something that”s not there,” she says.

”I feel like I led him on,” I say. ”It was a comfortable relationship. But I don”t want comfortable. There wasn”t that… that something that my sisters have with their husbands. There”s like an unspoken but tangible spark between them. I never had that with Eric.”

”What about with Sam?” Mom asks.

I look at her with both surprise and confusion.

”Sam?” I ask, raising an eyebrow. ”Sam and I are friends. We”ll never be more than friends.”

Mom doesn”t say anything. Instead, she starts sweeping again.

”Have you heard from him lately?” she asks.

”No,” I say. ”As a matter of fact, I haven”t talked to him in two weeks. I think Dad talks to him more than I do.”

Mom shoots me a look and a smile.

”No, I”m not jealous,” I say, ”But I”ve literally heard Dad answer the phone and spend an hour talking to Sam. He never hands me the phone, so I can only assume Sam calls to talk to him, not me.”

Mom glances up at me, tilts her head slightly, and smiles again.

”Okay, maybe I am a little jealous,” I admit.

Mom puts her arm around my waist and leads me inside the house.

Our Sunday lunches have turned into Sunday dinners. Tonight, Eric is the only one missing. My sister Katherine is here with her husband, Adam, and their two kids, five-year-old Tori and two-year-old Jon.

Family friends Laura and Charles Clay are here, too. They”ve been part of the family for as long as I can remember. My sister Loren was engaged to their son, Justin, but he died in a car accident six years ago.

Loren clung to Justin”s memory for four years, thinking she could never love again. All that changed when Adam”s foster brother, Aaron, and his daughter, Holly, returned to Cold Spring after Aaron”s wife died. He and Loren found each other and fell in love. They”ve been married and have been living in Boston for two years.

”Has anyone talked to Loren today?” asks Mom.

”Yes,” says Laura. ”I spoke to her this morning. They”re all packed and ready to come home. Loren, Holly, and Christina will be here on Wednesday. Aaron, his dad, and the moving truck will arrive on Thursday.”

”Oh my gosh!” I exclaim. ”Is the nursery ready?”

”Yes,” says Katherine. ”Mom, Laura, and I put the finishing touches on it last night. The room is pale yellow, the furnishings white, and the accent colors are green and some pretty creams. It”s beautiful.”

”I can”t believe they decided to wait until the baby”s born to find out the gender,” says Laura. ”Keeping the colors neutral was no easy task.”

”She”s due in five weeks, right?” I ask. ”I”m so excited! Katherine, are you and Aaron still the designated birthing coaches?”

”Yes,” says Katherine. ”Loren was in the room when Tori was born. I wouldn”t miss it for the world.”

”Sorry to change the subject,” Adam begins. ”But where”s Eric? I was supposed to see him here to give him the keys to his new place.”

”We broke up today,” I say. ”So he won”t be coming.”

”Laila, Eric is a good man,” Adam says. ”But he”s not for you.”

”I know,” I say. ”I should”ve listened to you years ago when you tried to tell me.”

Adam gives me a little wink and a smile in lieu of an ”I told you so.”

”Once I start my residency in Boston, my schedule will be more hectic than ever. I can”t see myself staying in a committed relationship.”

When I glance at Dad, I catch him grinning. I try not to read too much into it, but it doesn’t go unnoticed.

”Speaking of a hectic schedule,” I say, wanting to change the subject, ”when is baby Adam due again?”

”He”s due in November,” Katherine says. ”So, you have some time, little sister.”

”Finally!” I exclaim, ”I”ve been waiting patiently for my turn as birthing coach.”

Adam is chewing on a piece of steak, but his eyes are fixed on Katherine. And there it is— that unspoken but tangible spark between them. He puts the fork down and leans over to kiss her. My sister”s smile widens when he puts his hand on her belly.

Adam grew up as part of our family. He was a foster kid and a freshman in high school when he met my dad, a teacher and coach at the time. We all loved him like a brother and a son, but his love for Katherine eventually changed. He left for college and was gone for years before returning to Cold Spring. The sparks between him and Katherine flew the moment they reconnected. What they have is something right out of a romance novel. They”re soulmates. It”s clear they live to make each other happy.

Laura and Charles leave shortly after dinner. Dad, Adam, and I pick up the dishes while Mom and Katherine sit in the living room with the kids. I can hear Tori telling Mom how excited she is about Holly moving back to Cold Spring.

When we join them in the living room, Dad sits beside Mom, who”s holding Tori on her lap. Adam sits next to Katherine and puts his arm around her before leaning over and whispering something in her ear. It must be something romantic because it makes her smile from ear to ear. I walk over to Jon, who”s sitting on the floor, busily working on a numbers puzzle. He”s such a funny little guy. He”s intelligent and sweet. I”m convinced that his love language is tickling. As soon as I sit next to him on the floor, he climbs on my lap and starts tickling me on my side. I tickle him back until he giggles and arches his back with delight. This is how we say hello. It never fails; if Jon and I are together, there”s going to be tickling.

These are the moments I live for. Looking around the room, I realize just how much I love my family. Moving to Boston will be a bittersweet chapter in my life.

Later, when the kids are passed out on the couch and the rest of us are drinking coffee in the kitchen, I decide to broach the subject.

”Dad,” I begin. ”Have you heard from Sam?”

”Yes, I spoke to him last night.”

”Why hasn”t he called me?” I ask. ”I haven”t talked to him in two weeks.”

”Has it been that long?”

”Come on, Dad. You know it has. What”s going on? Why is he giving me the cold shoulder?”

”You”re imagining things, Princess,” he says. ”But if you think he”s ignoring you, why don”t you call him?”

”He”s been gone for a year, and I”ve never had to call him because he always calls me.”

”Well, maybe that needs to change,” Adam says.

I glare at him.

”I”m just saying,” he says. ”Why should he be the one to always call you?”

I met Sam two and a half years ago when he started working for my sister, Loren, in her art studio. We became good friends. Sam is fun and easygoing. He challenges me intellectually and makes me laugh.

After Loren got engaged to Aaron, she sold the studio to Sam. A year later, he moved to Athens. I didn”t even have time to process the fact that he was leaving. One day, he was here, and then he was gone.

We”ve kept in touch. We talk on the phone, text, and video chat several times a week, but it”s not the same. I miss him.

”Earth to Laila,” I hear Adam say.

”I”m sorry,” I say. ”I was deep in thought.”

”I was asking if you”re ready for your move.”

”Of course,” I say. ”You know how much of a planner I am. I have almost everything packed.

”I”m glad you agreed to stay with Lily and Lisa in Aaron”s condo. It gives me peace of mind to know you won”t be living there alone.”

”Adam,” I say, smiling. ”The brother I never had.”

”The three of you will get along great,” says Mom. ”Lisa is like part of the family, and the few times I”ve met Lily, she seems like a sweet girl with a good head on her shoulders.”

”We have our living arrangements all figured out,” I say. ”The fact that we all get along so well is an added bonus.”

Lily has been Holly”s nanny since they moved to Boston. Loren and Aaron met Lisa when she was working for her mother”s housekeeping business and was assigned to clean Aaron”s house. She”s building an estate sales business from scratch and will graduate from college next year with a degree in business administration.

When the phone rings, I watch Dad get up to answer it. As soon as he says hello, I can tell it”s Sam. I try to figure out what they”re discussing, but Dad gives little away. His side of the conversation is minimal. There are a lot of “ahas,” “hmms,” and “okays.” The man is not contributing anything to the conversation, and it”s bugging me.

”Why don”t you ask to speak with him?” asks Adam, giving me a side-eye.

I roll my eyes at him and focus on Dad. Mine is probably the only house left in Cold Spring with a landline and a phone with a cord. I watch Dad pull the phone and the cord as far as it”ll go. He”s now in the hallway, speaking in hushed tones.

I look at Adam, Katherine, and Mom, wondering if they”re all part of a conspiracy. Something is happening, and I”m the only one out of the loop.

When I wake up in the morning, I go for a six-mile run on a nearby trail. I”ve been running this loop for ten years. When Sam was here, we”d run it together. I remember the morning we were heading back from a five-mile run when we ran into Eric. He stopped just long enough to glare at me, then kept going. I didn”t go after him.

”He”s pissed,” said Sam, ”Maybe we should stop seeing each other.”

”No one can tell me who I can and can”t be friends with,” I said in protest.

”Laila, he”s your boyfriend.”

”I think we just broke up,” I said, thinking about how Eric stomped off.

”Because of me,” Sam said.

”No. It has nothing to do with you. Eric and I have been heading towards a breakup for a long time.”

I remember standing against a tree to catch my breath and gather my thoughts. Sam approached me and put his hand over my shoulder, resting it against the tree. Because I”m tall, I”m not used to feeling small next to anyone, but next to him, I do. He”s six feet, six inches tall, broad-shouldered, tanned, blue-eyed, and gorgeous.

With our faces only inches apart, he said, ”Why am I the one who always ends up feeling guilty about the arguments between you two?”

”Don”t borrow trouble,” I said, ”You”ve done nothing wrong.”

He gazed at me so intently that I had to look away.

That was a month before he left. I wonder if that incident was the straw that broke the camel”s back, the reason he decided to leave Cold Spring.

This morning, I finish my run in forty-four minutes. When I walk into the kitchen, I expect to see Dad sitting at the table drinking a cup of coffee, but he”s not here.

Mom is pouring a thin batter onto a round cast-iron griddle. She”s making crepes. A few are already piled on a platter, so I grab one and roll it up like a taquito. When I take a bite, the texture is soft and buttery.

”Who”s coming over for breakfast?” I ask, seeing the big bowl of sliced fruit sitting on the table. ”And where”s Dad?”

”He had an errand to run,” Mom says, ignoring my first question, ”He should be back in about an hour. Do you have any plans for today?”

”I”m going to finish packing my room,” I say. ”But first, I need to take a shower.”

After I shower, I stand in front of the mirror and debate whether or not I should bother with makeup. My skin looks paler than usual, so I decide to let it breathe. I put on some moisturizer with sunscreen and forego the makeup altogether. My damp hair is already curling around my shoulders.

I”ve been told I”m beautiful all my life. I”ve overheard conversations at home, school, church, and even the playground.

”The Linder girls are pretty,” they”ve said. ”But Laila. Laila is one of a kind. She could be a model.” I”ve never believed them. When I assess my reflection in the mirror, I wish I could see myself the way others do.

I think Loren is the most beautiful person I know. I remember what Mom once told me about not wearing too much perfume. She said, ”Laila, when you walk into a room, your perfume should be discovered, not announced.” That”s how I see the difference between me and Loren. When I walk into a room, everyone looks at me. I”m five feet ten inches tall, so how could anyone avoid it? I”m taller than most men; my eyes are too big for my face, and I”m all legs. Loren”s beauty is delicate. She”s small and graceful. She has a quiet wit and a sweet spirit. The freckles on her face are adorable. The freckles on mine scream, ”Look at me!” and not in a good way.

I”m not going out today, so I change into old jeans and a fraying tank top with Bugs Bunny on the front, asking, ”What”s up Doc?” After blow-drying my hair, I don”t even brush it. I just braid it loosely to the side, leaving curls out to frame my face.

Before I leave my room, I pick up Eric”s picture from the nightstand and slip it into the drawer.

In the kitchen, I find Dad sitting at the table reading today”s newspaper and holding a cup of steaming coffee. His plate is loaded with eggs, bacon, and buttery crepes topped with fruit and powdered sugar.

A half-eaten breakfast sits on the table next to him. What”s left of the eggs is yellow and runny, barely cooked through. The only person I know who likes his eggs this over easy is five thousand miles away.

”Dad,” I say, but before I can finish my thought, my heart starts pounding because I can sense Sam”s presence and smell the familiar scent of his cologne.

Fearing it could be my imagination, I whirl around and come face to face with him. My best friend.

He takes a step forward and wraps his arms around me. I hug him back.

”Sam!” I exclaim, ”I can”t believe you”re here!”

”I missed you,” he whispers into my ear.

”I missed you too!” I scream. ”I missed you so much!”