Chapter 27
27
ROWENA
Ten weeks pregnant
I sign the lunch bill with a flourish, feeling very Carrie Bradshaw. Just as I snap my wallet shut, my phone buzzes with an incoming text. It’s from Nina, asking if I’m still down to spend the long weekend at her parents’ house.
I look up from the screen to stare at Adrian. “Do we have plans for the Fourth?”
He cocks an eyebrow. “Plans?”
Oh my gosh, now he probably thinks I’m trying to cling to him. “Yeah, like do you have any work commitments or an appearance you need to make with your boss?”
Adrian shakes his head, his chiseled jaw catching the sunlight streaming through the tree branches overhead. “No, we’re good. The next event with Dominic is not for another three weeks.”
“Oh, okay. Because I’d forgotten Nina had invited me to go to her parents’ house, we’re all going…” Should I invite him to come? Would he want to? “What about you, any fun plans for th e long weekend?” I ask breezily, hoping I sound casual and not desperately fishing.
“I’m visiting my mom upstate.”
“Oh, that’s nice,” I reply, trying to keep the disappointment out of my voice. The silence grows more awkward as I wait for him to break it. To invite me along. To ask me if I want to join him instead of going to Nina’s… But Adrian just smiles politely and takes a sip of his water.
Of course he doesn’t ask me to go, I scold myself silently. Seeing his mom is not a work event, so no need to parade the fake fiancée around. And unless he absolutely has to, Adrian is not interested in spending extra time with me. He made that crystal clear on Sunday morning when I clumsily threw myself at him and he firmly shut it down.
Nina’s words after they met float into my mind: He’s a great guy… Just not your great guy.
And she’s right, as much as I hate to admit it. Yes, Adrian is giving me financial advice and even came with me to confront my toxic ex. He’s an amazing friend.
But that’s all he wants to be—just friends, or supportive roommates. A “mutually beneficial business arrangement,” to use his words. Nothing more. I need to get that through my hormone-addled brain already and stop hoping for something that’s never going to happen.
A pang of longing lodges in my throat. I hope Adrian can’t see it as I plaster on a bright smile and text Nina back that I’m in for a besties weekend lounging by her parents’ pool…
Fake thirty-two-teeth grin still in place, I turn to Adrian again. “All settled. I’m leaving tonight.”
“Yeah, me too, I’ll go straight from the office.”
Would he have even told me he was going if I hadn’t invited him to lunch? Or would he just have been gone for four days with no warning? To be fair, he was probably just embarrassed about Sunday. And Adrian doesn’t owe me explanations on how or where he spends his time.
Whether he was going to tell me or not, the thought that I won’t see him until Monday—or even later if he keeps up his ungodly schedule—plunges another little spear into my heart.
“I’m sure your mom will be thrilled to see you.” This conversation is turning excruciatingly polite.
“Actually.” Adrian seems oblivious to the wistful thoughts swirling in my head. “I’ll use this weekend to let her know about our arrangement. Explain the whole fake marriage and pregnancy situation so she’s not blindsided at the engagement party.”
His words yank me firmly back to reality. Right. Our sham relationship.
Adrian leans forward, his dark eyes searching mine. “Have you told your parents? About the baby and everything?”
A flush creeps up my neck. “No, not yet. I was planning to do it this weekend, too.” A lie, but one I should probably make come true. It’s not like I can invite my parents straight to the wedding when I’ll already be showing with no forewarning.
Picking at the tablecloth, I avoid his gaze. “I’ll stick to the story we agreed on—pretend you’re the father and we’re getting married.” The lies taste sour on my tongue. “I won’t have them come out for the engagement party,” I add hastily. “It’s a long trip from Nebraska. Better to have them fly over only once for the actual wedding.”
Adrian nods. “Makes sense. Whatever you think is best.”
He stands. “Ready to head out? I should get back to the office.”
“Sure.” I gather my purse and follow him out of the courtyard through the bustling restaurant .
Outside, on the sunbaked sidewalk, Adrian turns to face me. “Well, have a great weekend with your friends.” He flashes me a polite smile.
“You too,” I reply flippantly, determined not to let him see how much his casual dismissal stings. “Enjoy your trip home.”
As he strides away, an inexplicable tightness seizes my lungs. I want to call out, to tell him…
Tell him what exactly? That somewhere along the way, my stupid heart started wishing this pretend relationship was real? Yeah, that’d go over well.
Shaking my head at my foolishness, I call Sam to come pick me up instead, determined to go home and pack and forget all about handsome men who only want to be respectful to me.
The next day, I’m floating lazily on my back in the cool blue water of Nina’s parents’ pool, my oversized sunglasses shielding my eyes from the bright July sun. It’s only been a few weeks since Adrian suddenly catapulted into my life, but already his absence leaves a hollow ache in my chest. Ridiculous, considering he’s made it clear he wants nothing more than a strictly platonic friendship.
Still, I miss our playful banter on the rare occasions we bumped into each other at the house before I made it awkward or just existing in the same space as him. Somehow, he makes everything feel lighter, better.
“Hey party pooper, what’s with the long face?”
I startle at the sound of Nina’s voice. Lost in thought, I didn’t notice her slipping into the pool with me. She splashes me playfully before swimming over, her blonde hair darkened by the water and slicked back from her face.
“Nothing, I’m fine,” I lie, forcing a smile. “Just nervous about telling my parents about the baby, I guess.”
Nina raises a skeptical eyebrow. But if she has doubts, she doesn’t voice them. “You’re calling them today?”
I avoid her probing green eyes. “Yep, I should go call them now and get it over with.”
“I’m sure they’ll be thrilled about the baby.” Nina gives me a tentative smile that tells me she’s reading straight through the things I’ve left unsaid.
I give her a nod—a silent thanks for not forcing me to face my bullshit—and splash her back before hauling myself out of the pool and wrapping up in a soft towel. Water pools at my feet as I pad across the patio and into the house, phone in hand.
The call with my parents goes surprisingly well. Of course, me telling them I’m taking time off work to have a baby while in a stable relationship with a man who loves me and whom I’m marrying is easier to accept than if I’d told them I got fired, knocked up and left to fend for myself by my dickhead ex. After the initial shock wears off, Mom squeals about finally getting a grandchild while Dad is engrossed about meeting “this Adrian fellow.” By the time we say goodbye, they’re on board, eager to help in any way they can and booking their plane tickets for the wedding in September.
Wedding. The word sends a pang through my heart.
I end the call and reflexively check my messages, hoping against hope to see Adrian’s name pop up. Even just a simple “Happy 4th” would lift my spirits at this point. But there’s nothing, of course. I toss my phone on the couch and drag my hands through my wet hair, suppressing a frustrated scream. He doesn’t owe me anything.
The rest of the long weekend drags by in a haze of forced smiles and half-hearted celebrations. Nina shoots me concerned glances when she thinks I’m not looking. I pretend everything is fine.
But nothing is fine, as evidenced by my plummeting mood when I return to New York and Adrian remains as scarce as ever over the next couple of nights. The penthouse echoes with emptiness. I’ve given up waiting up for him. If it weren’t for his dirty cereal bowl in the sink each morning and the lingering scent of his cologne, I’d wonder if he still lived here at all.
At this rate, it seems the stupid engagement party next weekend will be the first time I’ll lay eyes on my fake fiancé again. The irony is not lost on me as I curl up alone in my cold bed at night, the shadows on the ceiling my only company.
I’ve also stopped trying to get up before him. So, on Tuesday morning I’m still in bed half asleep at nine thirty, wallowing in apathy as I fidget with the engagement ring that I’ve put on because I’m that pathetic. An impulsive urge to yank it off and flush it down the toilet seizes me. But I don’t, of course.
As if on cue, my phone pings with a reminder, jolting me out of my sulking.
Dress shopping with Sophie for the engagement party.
Great. Because that’s what I need—to play pretend princess bride when my pride feels like it’s been stomped on by a herd of elephants.
I drag myself out of bed with a groan, cursing my life choices as I get ready and bemoaning some more for the entire car ride downtown.
The upscale boutique is a dizzying whirlwind of sparkles and silk, a stark contrast to the storm clouds brewing in my head.
“Rowena, darling!” Sophie air kisses my cheeks, her megawatt smile blinding. “You look… tired. Late night?” She winks suggestively.
I force a weak smile. If only she knew the half of it. “Something like that.”
“Well, nothing a virgin mimosa and the perfect dress can’t fix!” She claps her hands, nodding at a waiting attendant who promptly appears with a tray of shimmering flutes.
I accept one gratefully, the cool citrusy liquid a small comfort as Sophie whisks me further inside, prattling on about designers and silhouettes. She holds up dress after dress for my inspection, but I can barely muster more than a half-hearted shrug at any of them. Each gown is gorgeous, but the churning mix of emotions raging inside me mutes any enthusiasm I might have had.
Longing. Rejection. Anger. Frustration. Want. They’re all balled up in a tangled knot in my chest that makes me strangely vengeful toward a man who has done nothing to earn such a sentiment.
Sophie pauses, lowering the beaded monstrosity in her hands to eye me quizzically. “What’s with the doom and gloom? This is your engagement party, not a funeral. What kind of dress are you looking for?”
I meet her gaze, lips pressed in a grim line as the swelling resentment boils over. “You know what, Sophie? I want a dress that would feel like a giant raised middle finger to an ex. One that would show him what he’s missing out on and make him regret ever letting me go.”
“So sexy as hell, if I’m reading the mood correctly?”
I let out the first genuine smile of the day. “You are.”
The words taste like vindication on my tongue, even if they’re not entirely true. Because I can’t tell her that the finger I want to raise is for the man who put a ring on it. The same man who wants nothing to do with me unless it’s for show.
“Subtle, virginal sexy or in-your-face sexy?”
I smirk. “Let’s go with the innocent but irresistible vibe.”
The smile Sophie gives me in return is anything but innocent. “Adrian is going to lose his mind.”
I down the rest of my mimosa in one long gulp, embracing the petty thrum of outrage pulsing through my veins. If Adrian wants to play the indifference game, fine. But I’m sure not going to make it easy for him.
I’ll find a dress that’ll blow his fucking mind. And when he sees what he’s missing, he’ll regret turning me down and disappearing on me.
If Adrian won’t fight for… whatever this is between us, then I’ll just have to fight harder.
And what better battleground than a party where he has to pretend he’s in love with me.