Chapter 9
“Tabitha!” a female voice shrieked.
She turned, just in time to see Stacy barreling toward her across the lawn, arms already spread wide for impact. A second later, Tabitha was engulfed in a warm, bouncy hug that nearly knocked her backward.
“I can’t believe you came! You’re actually here!” Stacy squealed, gripping Tabitha’s shoulders and practically hopping in place.
Tabitha laughed, hugging her tightly, her cheek brushing against the soft cotton of Stacy’s T-shirt and the faint scent of lilac shampoo clinging to her friend’s hair.
But her smile faltered when something caught her eye—three dark SUVs rolled slowly down the street, engines humming low.
And coming from the opposite direction, walking on the far sidewalk…
Trouble.
But before Tabitha could mentally brace herself, Stacy’s excited voice reeled her back in.
“Why did you say you wouldn’t be able to come?
And then I got word that you would! Oh, this is going to be so much fun!
I’m so glad you changed your mind!” Stacy’s hands slid down to grip Tabitha’s hands, her wide hazel eyes searching.
“You must have realized how nervous I am about this weekend, right?”
Tabitha’s chest pinched. No, she hadn’t thought about Stacy’s nerves when she’d told her she wasn’t coming. At the time, she’d honestly believed she’d be halfway around the world with Ramzi, navigating boardrooms and blueprints in Berlin.
“My boss’s plans changed,” she said softly. “So, I was able to make it here for your big day.”
Stacy grinned, but her focus shifted at the same moment Tabitha’s did. Leandra Phillips strolled down the sidewalk, arm hooked around the elbow of the man who had once meant everything to Tabitha.
Martin Miller.
He looked different now. His sandy hair was thinner at the crown, and his smile—once boyishly charming—was gone. His face held the pallor of someone losing sleep, his gaze flicking toward Tabitha with what almost looked like regret.
Stacy shifted closer, standing shoulder to shoulder with Tabitha now. Her arm brushed against Tabitha’s as she leaned in and hissed, “Just keep walking, Leandra. No need to start anything.”
Leandra’s expression curved into a smug half-smile. Her long dark hair was perfectly styled, and her eyeliner was heavy, as always. She stopped, slow and deliberate, and placed a hand over her rounded belly, fingers splayed dramatically across her maternity dress.
“Not starting anything, Stacy,” she replied, her tone silky. “Just walking down the sidewalk.”
She rubbed her stomach in slow circles, making damn sure everyone saw. “Gotta get in my steps. Doctor says it helps with a healthy pregnancy.”
Stacy’s fingers tightened on Tabitha’s forearm, her nails pressing lightly through the thin fabric of Tabitha’s sweater. A silent restraint.
“Congratulations,” Tabitha called out, her voice steady, if slightly cool. “Is this your first child?”
She didn’t care. Not really. But it was the expected question, the polite one. Leandra and Martin had been married four years—plenty of time for the rumors to start about when they’d finally produce a baby. Around here, pregnancies were paraded like trophies.
“Yep!” Leandra chirped, her gaze never leaving Tabitha. “And we’re delighted about our little family.”
Martin said nothing. Just stared at the ground. Leandra turned her head toward him and narrowed her eyes—an unmistakable silent command for him to echo her enthusiasm. He didn’t.
Tabitha had already stopped listening. Her focus had shifted.
The middle SUV’s back door opened, and Ramzi stepped out.
Sunlight brushed across his shoulders, catching on the fine lines of his dark blazer. He stood tall, his gaze sweeping the scene with practiced precision, and for one brief, breathless second, Tabitha forgot where she was. Her lungs stilled. Her heartbeat didn’t just pick up—it roared.
He looked breathtaking.
“Woah,” Stacy whispered reverently. “I’d heard he was big. But that man is huge.”
Tabitha pressed a hand to her chest, trying to control the flurry inside. Her body still remembered his kiss, the press of his mouth, the confident slide of his hands. Had that only been a couple of hours ago?
It felt like days. And also… not enough.
Her fingers tingled with the memory, and her eyes lingered on him, drinking him in again. All this—this farce—was for show. Just a few days of playing pretend to keep her mother’s pride intact.
But even now, watching him walk toward her with that impossible confidence and quiet command, the idea of pretending he was hers… didn’t feel so pretend.
As long as she kept a cool head, reminded herself daily—hourly—that this wasn’t real, she could get through it without ending up shattered at the end.
“Are you the bride?” Ramzi asked, his hand extended with a charming ease.
Tabitha felt Stacy melt beside her, eyes wide and dreamy as she placed her much smaller hand into his. “I am,” she breathed.
There was a pause—Stacy seemed dazzled into temporary silence—before she blinked up at him. “And who are you?”
“I’m Ramzi. Tabitha’s fiancé.”
The gasps came in layers—Stacy, Martin, Leandra, even the neighbors chimed in with audible disbelief. It seemed to echo down the street, bouncing off fences and porches.
Stacy’s excitement bubbled over as she let out a squeal.
“You’re engaged?!” she nearly shouted, still clutching Ramzi’s hand and making no effort to let go.
Her grip shifted slightly as she all but abandoned Tabitha, edging toward Ramzi with a wide grin and eager eyes.
“Why didn’t you tell me?! I mean, I knew you had a thing for your boss, but—holy crap, Tabitha!
You didn’t even tell me you were dating him! ”
Tabitha’s face went hot. The kind of blush that burned from her chest all the way to her forehead.
She glanced up at Ramzi, heart stammering.
“I didn’t—I don’t—” Her words tangled. And Ramzi didn’t help with that smile he wore—one of amusement…
and something warmer. Darker. It made her knees a little weaker.
Stacy’s claim wasn’t wrong. But did he need to know that?
“When did you propose?” Stacy asked, now completely focused on Ramzi. Her excitement was genuine, her loyalty clear. There was no jealousy in her tone, only a best friend’s delight. Even as she asked the question, her eyes sparkled with happiness.
Tabitha tried to breathe, to re-center herself. Her gaze slid to the side, where Leandra stood with her hand on her rounded stomach, watching everything through narrowed eyes. The jealousy radiating from her was unmistakable. So was the tension in her jaw.
Martin stood stiffly beside his wife. But it wasn’t Leandra’s reaction that unsettled Tabitha—it was his. The tightness in his face. The flicker of fury barely masked behind polite disinterest. Why would he be angry?
Tabitha looked away. On the porch next door, her neighbor stood frozen mid-gossip, whispering into her phone. The garden hose she’d dropped had created a growing puddle beneath the hydrangea bush.
That’s when Tabitha felt Ramzi’s fingers slip between hers. His palm was warm, his grip firm. Her instinct was to pull away—too much attention, too much touch—but his hand tightened, holding her still.
She looked up at him, startled by the gesture. The amusement in his dark eyes was unmistakable.
And then, without the slightest hesitation, he leaned down and kissed her.
It wasn’t possessive or rushed. Just enough of a kiss to make it clear to anyone watching that this wasn’t just talk. When he pulled back, her lips tingled. Her breath caught. Her mind emptied, and all she could do was look up at him, her body warming beneath that intense gaze.
Her eyes dropped to his mouth. A mistake.
She wanted another kiss. More than one.
Stacy’s delighted chuckle dragged her back to earth. She turned, cheeks still flushed.
“That’s so sweet,” Stacy said, her voice loud enough for the whole street. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen Tabitha react like that.”
Tabitha winced. Stacy’s volume hadn’t changed since grade school.
And sure enough, Martin heard. His scowl deepened, his fists clenched at his sides.
“Why don’t we take this inside?” Tabitha suggested, needing to get out of the spotlight.
“No way!” Stacy grabbed her other hand, tugging with urgency.
“Sorry, Ramzi,” she added with an apologetic smile, “but I haven’t seen my best friend since Philly.
She has to come over right now. I need to show her my dress, and we’ve got so much to catch up on that she can’t tell me in front of an audience. ”
She giggled, looping her arm through Tabitha’s and already steering her away. “You can meet her at the coffee shop in two hours! I promise I’ll have rung all the juicy gossip from her by then!”
Tabitha looked back at Ramzi over her shoulder, silently begging him to intervene.
But he only smiled, gave a small wave, and walked up the steps into her parents’ house.