CHAPTER TEN Emily
CHAPTER TEN
Emily
M y stress ball is gone and has been replaced by a tattooed hand belonging to an insanely hot man. At first I was skeptical, I thought it would feel too weird. But surprisingly, it wasn’t weird. It’s strangely, wonderfully comforting.
When we arrive in Manila, the shift in atmosphere is immediate and unmistakable. The air is thick with humidity, wrapping around me like a warm blanket, and so different from New York’s crisp coolness. I’m already sweating even when I’m barely moving.
We collect our baggage, and Joshua heads off to get the car. I sit at the pickup point with our luggage, the warmth of the pavement seeping through my shoes. Somewhere nearby, I hear the sharp beeps of horns and cheerful chatter bouncing between strangers. I watch the flurry of families embracing after long flights, drivers holding up signs with names scrawled in marker, and the occasional vendor weaving through the crowd selling bottled water and snacks.
I switch off my phone’s airplane mode, and the notifications come flooding in: a Facebook reminder that I have an event in five days–Bonita and Ryan’s Nuptials, a few Instagram notifications, and four messages—one from my mom, one from Bon asking if I was able to contact Joshua, one from a service provider welcoming me to the Philippines, and one from an unknown number.
I reply to my mom and Bon, telling them I’m on the way. Then, I check the other message from the unknown number. The preview is already making my heart do a weird somersault and making me nauseous, so I open the entire text.
UNKNOWN
Great. Just what I need—a reminder of what’s waiting for me at Magnolia Heights. Ugh. I try to compose myself and reply.
EMILY (ME)
ROB
EMILY (ME)
ROB
I stare at my phone, awestruck. He really has reached a whole new level of assholery.
The guy who broke my heart is bringing a date to the wedding I promised myself I’d enjoy for my best friend. The day I swore I wouldn’t let thoughts of him ruin. The day I’m determined to reclaim for myself, free of any lingering heartbreak.
Part of me wants to scream at the universe for its twisted sense of humor. Part of me wants to ignore his messages, block his number, and pretend he doesn’t exist. But a bigger part of me, the part that still aches from his betrayal, needs to prove that I’ve moved on too. So maybe it’s anger, ego, or just plain pettiness—because I’m not proud of what I do next.
EMILY (ME)
ROB
Okay. So now I just have to come up with a last minute reason why my date couldn’t make it, hoping Rob won’t see right through me. Fever? An allergy? Should I just hire an actor to play my date?
“What’s with the face, Tantrum?” I don’t notice Joshua pulling up in front of me. He gets out of the car to haul our luggage like he’s freaking Hercules, and I help. By help, I mean I carry my personal bag and load one carry-on.
Once we’re inside the car, he asks again, “Seriously, what was that face? You okay?” During the flight, he was wearing a hoodie, but in the Manila heat, he’s now wearing a plain black v-neck. Tattoos are much more visible. From this distance, I can make out half a wolf on his upper arm, vines, plus an assortment of other symbols on his lower arm.
“Nothing,” I say, still looking at his arm. I should stop staring. Yep. Move your eyes, Emily. Now, please.
He glances at me, one hand on the steering wheel and the other on the shifting gear. “Doesn’t look like it’s nothing,” he says. “Do you wanna hold my hand again?” He flexes his hand in front of me, the bastard.
“No,” I say, chuckling slightly.
“Come on, tell me. I won’t spill,” he says, making a zipping motion over his mouth. The virtual map says we’re two hours away from Magnolia Heights. I guess I need to get this all out of my system before I arrive there.
“Fine. Just promise you won’t get all judge-y.”
“I’ll try.” He smiles.
“Alright. So you know Rob, right?” I start.
“Well yeah. Are you together?” he says. “Oh, wait, you said weeks ago that you had a bad breakup. Was that with him?”
I nod, surprised he remembers. “Yup, he’s my ex-boyfriend now,” I confirm, and Joshua does a quick look at me, eyebrows raised and eyes wide with disbelief. “Cheated on me for a year. I found out because while we were on Facetime, there was someone in his bed. He didn’t even deny it, just admitted that it’s been going on for a year and then broke up with me.” I shrug. The more I say it, the less daunting it sounds.
“How…” Josh starts. “How could anyone cheat on you? You’re…” He sighs. “Nevermind, what’s the problem?”
“Were you going to say I was amazing and beautiful and all that?” I say jokingly to lighten the mood.
“Well… yeah,” he admits, and I feel my cheeks heat up, so I immediately deflect. We’re at a stoplight, so I hand him my phone and let him read the conversation.
“That’s the problem.”
Joshua snorts, glancing over at me with amusement. “And let me guess—you don’t have a date.”
“Of course I don’t have a date!” I groan, slumping further down. “I panicked, okay? Now I’m screwed because I have to either come up with a fake date or admit I lied. I mean, should I hire someone? Pretend they’re my boyfriend?” My mind plays an infinite loop of possible scenarios that might occur if I bring a stranger to Bon’s wedding. My friends are gonna ask me a lot of questions. They’re gonna wonder where I met him and why I didn’t tell them about it. Not good. I can’t lie myself out of that one. Should I just let them in on the secret? Probably not. Bon will most likely tell Ryan. And then he (or Haley) will probably tell Richard. Then Richard will tell Rob. It’s a small village. The trail of lies will come to light.
Joshua’s quiet for a second, and then a smirk pulls at his lips. “ I could do it.”
I blink at him, unsure if I heard him right. “You? You’ll pretend to be my date?”
“I’ll pretend to be your damn husband if you ask me to.” His hands freeze on the steering wheel, like he didn’t mean to say what he did. I guess the thought of commitment still makes this guy squirm. He brushes it off effortlessly with a smile.
“Why?” I can’t help but ask.
He shrugs, then says, “Because it’s just pretend.”
Before I can respond, his phone rings. It’s connected to the car Bluetooth so I see immediately that it’s his mom. He answers her on loudspeaker.
“Hey, Josh. Where are you? Will you be here by dinner?” Tita Evie, their mom, asks.
“Yup. I’ll be there by then,” he says.
“Great. There’s this girl I’d love for you to meet. Her name is Leana. She is a wonderful lady, and…” his mom rambles on about how great this potential girl is but Josh is simply rolling his eyes and shaking his head.
“Ma, no. I don’t need another one of your matchmaking games.” He groans.
“The only time I will stop my matchmaking games is when you manage to make a match for yourself. Until then, you’re going to have to bear with me,” his mom says playfully, but we both know she’s serious. “If you don’t like Leana, at least just go on one dinner with her. Then we can find other girls to introduce you to.”
“No, don’t,” Josh says.
“I told you, Josh. Unless you already have a girlfriend–”
“I do,” he cuts her off.
I freeze. Hold on. He has a girlfriend? Well, I guess with looks, financial independence, and a sense of humor, it’s impossible for him not to have one. I don’t know why but I feel something dip in my stomach at the revelation.
But wait. Did he have a girlfriend when we kissed in front of my apartment? Oh my god, am I the other woman ? I can’t believe this is happening. Why in the world would he offer to fake-date me if he had an actual girlfriend? Is he just like every terrible man I know?
“Oh that’s wonderful!” Tita Evie cuts through my mental crisis. “Why haven’t you introduced her? And is your girlfriend not attending your own sister’s wedding?” she continues. “Tell her to fly here, we’ll add her to the guest list.”
Fly here. I scoff. Rich people really just summon people from across oceans like they’re Doordash orders.
Joshua rubs his temples and stays silent for a few seconds, as if thinking about what to say next. I get it, Filipino moms are a lot to take in. Tell them the wrong thing and it will be used against you for all eternity. What I don’t get, though, is why he looks at me, then looks out the road, and says, “No need. She’s already here.”
I sneak a glance at the backseat. Nope. No girlfriend hiding back there like a ninja. Did he mean that she was also in the Philippines? I guess not all long-distance relationships are doomed to fail. Maybe it’s why he’s so confident to kiss me two weeks ago. Because his girlfriend won’t find out. This is terrible, I need to come clean.
It’s Bon who replies, apparently Joshua is also on loudspeaker. “Wait, wait, wait. So you’re bringing your new girlfriend to my wedding and you didn’t bother to tell me? The bride?” She’s freaking out.
Joshua takes a deep breath. “I didn’t think I needed to. She’s already on the guest list,” Joshua says. Now I’m even more confused. How can she be on the guest list if they haven’t met her? And I guess I’m not the only one confused because Bon says the exact same thing as I was thinking it.
“Actually…” Josh pauses. His eyes dart to me for a split second, and I swear I see a flicker of desperation. “You already know her.”
Bon’s voice becomes suspicious. “Who?”
He holds my confused gaze as he says, “She’s your very own maid of honor.”
Sorry, what? I’m Bon’s maid of honor. How can he say that his girlfriend was—wait. He’s looking at me now. He’s mouthing the word ‘please’. Everything goes woozy and I feel my mouth fall open as realization strikes me. Oh no.
“It’s Emily,” he says in a final breath.
Me. He’s talking about me.
I’m the girlfriend.