Chapter 26
TARA
As I’m humming along to my music, making a new playlist for myself a message pings across the top of my phone.
Space boy
I need you.
I open the chat
Please will you come to say goodbye? Gran is insisting she sees you before she goes. Family brunch at L’étoile.
11am.
Of course, I’ll go. Even though his family came to my work to make fun of me. Even though Alfie got me fired from my job. Even though pretending makes my heart ache so bad because it doesn’t feel like pretending one little bit. I already let him down once, I can’t do it again.
Sure
See you there
I arrive early, hoping to catch Alfie alone.
I need to clear the air before we have to perform our fake couple routine one last time.
He’s already there, standing in the restaurant’s entrance, looking annoyingly perfect in dark jeans and a gray hoodie that makes me want to forget why I’m mad at him.
“Hey,” I say softly.
He startles, like he wasn’t expecting me. “You came.”
“Of course. Didn’t want to leave you hanging, make you explain why your girlfriend didn’t show for the big send-off.”
Something flickers across his face - pain maybe, or frustration. But it’s gone before I can read it, replaced by that careful blankness I’m starting to hate.
“I know I asked, but you didn’t have to.”
“I wanted to.”
He just nods, jaw tight. We stand there in uncomfortable silence, all our easy banter evaporated like it never existed. I want to ask what’s wrong. Want to understand why it feels like he’s shut me out again. But the words stick in my throat.
I’m the one pissed at him, not the other way around, right?
A sleek car pulls up outside - his family arriving. Before they can spot us, Alfie turns to me with an expression that makes my stomach drop.
“This is it then.”
“Yep.”
“They’re leaving. Mission accomplished.” His eyes won’t quite meet mine. “We can stop pretending now.”
“Makes sense.” I want to scream that it doesn’t. That despite everything it doesn’t make any sense at all in the world for the two of us to be apart.
“Yep.” He runs a hand through his hair. “You’re doing your thing, I’m busy with research. Let’s just... go back to being whatever we were.”
I swear my heart snaps into a thousand tiny pieces. Is that what he wants?
“Just like that?”
“Just like that.” His tone is final, cold. Fine.
“Good.” I straighten my shoulders. “It’s been a pleasure getting to know you, Alfie Spencer.”
Something like pain flashes across his face, but before he can respond, his family sweeps through the door in a wave of designer perfume and polished manners.
“Darling!” Mrs. Spencer catches my hands in hers, and I resist the urge to pull away. “So lovely of you to join us for one last brunch.”
As hellos are being exchanged, Gran catches my hand.
“You know what I love about you, dear?”
“What’s that?”
“You actually laugh at Alfie’s attempts at jokes. All these years I thought he didn’t have a sense of humor, turns out he just needed the right audience.” She pats my hand, eyes twinkling. “Though maybe help him work on his delivery a bit.”
“Gran,” Alfie protests, but he’s smiling that rare full smile.
“What?” She moves to hug me, surprisingly strong for someone so tiny. “Keep him laughing, dear. It suits him.” I catch Alfie’s eye over her shoulder. He’s watching us.
“I’ll do my best,” I lie.
“Good.” She straightens Alfie’s collar with practiced affection.
“And you - don’t forget to visit your old Gran now that you’ve got someone much prettier to spend time with.”
“Never,” Alfie says, dropping a kiss on her cheek.
The brunch progresses with carefully measured small talk until Drake sets down his mimosa, turning to me with that practiced smile that never reaches his eyes.
“So, Tara, have you given any thought to those other opportunities we discussed? Mother mentioned she had some fascinating connections at the Natural History Museum...” I freeze, fork halfway to my mouth.
Alfie’s face has gone completely blank behind that perfect Spencer mask, but his knuckles are white where he grips his water glass. The realization hits me like a physical blow – he knows.
He knows about his mother trying to buy me off, trying to control my future the same way everyone always has.
And instead of asking me about it, instead of trusting that I’d never let someone else dictate my path again, he’s just..
. shutting down. Something cracks in my chest. Because this is exactly what I’ve been fighting against my whole life – people thinking they know what’s best for me, trying to protect me, manage me, control me.
My parents lying about Dad because they thought I was too fragile for the truth.
Troy micromanaging my life under the guise of brotherly protection.
And now Alfie, who I thought was different, who I thought saw me as an equal, is doing the same thing – deciding how I’ll handle something without even talking to me about it.
“You know what?” I stand abruptly, my chair screeches across the floor. “I actually don’t feel well. Must be something disagreeing with me.”
“Tara—” Alfie starts, but I cut him off.
“No need to pretend anymore, remember?” I whisper. “Wouldn’t want to waste any more of your precious time trying to manage how I handle things.”
I turn to his family, summoning my best fake smile. “It’s been... educational. Really showed me what I want out of life. And what I don’t.” Someone who trusts me to make my own choices. Someone who sees me as an equal, not something to protect or control.
Marcie catches my eye as I leave, her expression sympathetic.
At least one good thing came out of this mess - helping her feel less alone in this suffocating world of carefully managed appearances.
As for me? I’ve got community service hours to finish and a family to explain my sudden unemployment to.
Another situation where I’ll have to fight to be seen as capable of handling my own life.
I don’t look back as I walk out. Don’t want to see if Alfie’s watching me go. Don’t want to know if he cares that everything we built is crumbing around us. Because maybe this is what I get for letting myself believe someone could see me differently.
The bright morning sun hits my face as I step outside, and I realize I’m shaking. I’m not sure why. All I know is that I’m done letting other people decide what I can handle. Done pretending. Done with all of it.
Even if it breaks my heart to walk away from the one person I thought finally understood me.