Pretending
CHAPTER THIRTY-NINE
LINNEA
The phone is warm in my hand as I sit on my reading chair, my legs curled up under me. Jamie and Sophie have been discussing back and forth for maybe ten minutes after I went through Friday’s events.
I didn’t tell them how I sat in the hallway with my back to the front door for five hours straight. Hearing Aiden’s voice so close and not giving in to the nearly overpowering need to open the door and have his arms around me again was the hardest thing I’ve done.
“You said it yourself, Jamie. If he’s got anything in common with Henry—run.”
“I know I did, but is it really? Did he mean it like ‘you’re being too much’ in the way Henry used to, do you think?”
“Not the exact words. He said I exaggerated. Told me to calm down. He reached out for me and I got scared…” They’ve heard it three times now, but I need to go through it.
“Hmm,” I hear but not sure from whom.
“But he didn’t actually touch me. He was trying to connect… He looked mortified, but the whole situation hurt too much.”
I’m mumbling the last bits, talking more to myself. Am I making excuses for him?
“Why didn’t he fucking quit the sex club? Seriously?” Sophie asks, throwing up her hands.
I shake my head, the lump in my throat forming again but I push it down.
Work today was fucking hard, but I’ve done this before.
Pretend like a normal day. No one needs to know.
No questions asked. I’ll keep pretending until it doesn’t feel like there’s a hole in my chest anymore, and then it’ll be fine. I can do this.
At least I didn’t see him today. I’ll work with Venetia and Gertrude until Wednesday, and then I have to go to Devon. I promised Amara I’d help out. After Aiden’s devastating string of messages yesterday, I finally dared ask if he’s told his mum.
No. I was hoping we could talk and there’d be nothing to tell. I won’t give up on you, Linnea.
I’ll see you Saturday morning? I won’t make you stay over if you don’t want to. There’ll be a driver nearby.
“Linnea?” Jamie pulls me back into the conversation. “Where did you go, love?”
“Did I share Aiden’s messages from yesterday?”
“Yes.”
“Oh.”
“Another good point,” Jamie says. “He’s taking action. Going to therapy? That’s fucking fantastic.”
“What do you want to do, Linnea?” Sophie asks.
“Crawl into a hole and disappear?” I laugh but it’s clearly fake.
“I wish he had chosen me. Wish it never happened. I’m head over heels for him.
I was, no, I am. I don’t know.” I breathe in, my throat closing up again.
Jamie and Sophie are quiet, waiting for me to recover.
“I owe it to myself not to make the same mistake again, right? What if—five, six, seven years from now, nearly forty-five years old—I have to deal with another devastating breakup? If Aiden hurt me like that, I’m not sure I’d survive it. ”
When I say it out loud, it rings even truer. I rub a hand on my chest, as if it would soothe the pain.
“It’s all different with Aiden, I love him s—” My voice cracks and I can’t say another word.
I sob hard, and drag in a long, rasping breath that’s stuck in my throat and sob again.
It takes minutes before I can breathe properly again.
Jamie and Sophie are still there, their eyes wet with tears for me.
“Fuck,” I whisper. “And I still have to go to Devon. I have to see him again and pretend we’re together, and I’ve no idea how. ”
“Oh bloody hell. Why?”
“For Amara. I can’t ruin her wedding day.” I clear my throat, my voice slowly returning to normal.
“I think you should talk. What you had—have… I want to say have—it’s unlike anything I’ve seen you experience,” Jamie says.
“You should talk to him, for sure,” Sophie says. “But he has to have a fucking epic explanation, right? Let him tell you, let him beg on his knees for one more chance,” she says. “And if it’s good enough, only if it’s good enough, if it’s fucking mind-blowing, maybe you give him that chance.”
“I don’t know what to expect. He’s not going to change overnight.”
“Don’t expect that from him,” Sophie says. “That wouldn’t be fair. But expect him to try fucking hard. Expect him to fight for you. And call us anytime, okay? Day or night.”
“Thank you. At least I’ll have three days down there before he arrives. I’ve not told him I’m still going early, so I’ll rest up. Enjoy the nature. And Amara’s warm hugs.”
Amara’s hug is as warm and genuine as I remember from a month ago, and it takes every ounce of willpower I have to not burst into tears.
This is when I need to activate my professional mask as I used to, but with the energy she’s seen from me before, so she won’t sense anything is wrong.
There’s no way I will break her heart right before her wedding.
Her first wedding. She never married Aiden’s dad, and I’ve not dared ask him about it. Is it related to why he’s so weird about the topic?
“This place is incredible,” I say as Amara lets me go. The main house is a light yellow three-storey stone building, with a blue-painted front door, and semi-circular marble steps leading up to it. “Look at that magnificent Star Jasmine—ah, I can smell it from here.”
I breathe in and close my eyes, just for a moment taking in the scent of the flower and the calm of the countryside. The sun warms my face, birds chirp in the trees lining the driveway.
“I know, I love it. This really is a wonderful place,” Amara says and I blink my eyes open again. “We’re quite lucky. And we’re so happy you’re here.”
“I’m thrilled to be part of it,” I say, smiling at her. Despite how I feel about Aiden right now—the confusion and disappointment—I mean that. Making Amara’s wedding as magical as possible for her is something that brings me joy. “Did you receive everything we ordered?”
“I did! It’s all in the garden,” she says, pointing to the far end of the house and the brick-paved courtyard. There’s a large wrought-iron gate that looks to lead to a backyard.
“Come, come.” She waves for me to follow. “Will’s brother’s staff are more than happy to help set it all up. You can direct them.”
“Great. Today, you and I can plan, and I’ll spend tomorrow and Friday setting it up. And you should spend those days relaxing with Will.”
Amara tilts her head up and her warm eyes meet mine. The urge to ask overpowers me.
“Will said it’s your first wedding?”
She smiles. She knows what I’m asking.
“It is. I never married Aiden’s dad,” she says and loops her arm through mine.
I drag my suitcase with the heavy garment bag on top behind me over the courtyard as we walk towards the house.
She sighs and stops in front of the blue front door.
“I didn’t want to press him. He left his family for me, and I knew he loved me more than I deserved.
To me, it started as an escape from my village life.
I was the one who wasn’t sure.” She shrugs.
“You weren’t sure? I got the impression you had this grand connection. Love of your life, kind of thing.”
“I know.” She hums, her lips twitching. “There’s an expression in Sicilian.
Quannu l’amuri tuppulia, unn’u lassari ammenzu a via.
” Amara lifts her gaze to mine, her eyes soft.
“When love comes knocking, don’t leave it in the road.
It means, if you get a chance at love, you should embrace it. So I did.”
I swallow hard, hoping she doesn’t expect me to say anything yet.
“I’ve never told Aiden all that.”
I give her a close-lipped smile and she returns it.
“Can I ask you something?” I ask and she nods. “What is it you call Aiden in Italian? Is it a nickname?”
“Gioia mia. My joy,” she says, laughing.
“Joy?”
“Yes. He was always my sweet, joyful boy. That smile that’s nearly wider than his face. Ever since he was little. And you know those eyes.”
“I do.”
But I try not to think about them.
“That’s why I didn’t tell him. I didn’t want to have to go through this story with him. To see his joy fade. Never wanted to admit it took me years to love his dad as much as he loved me from day one—that the story his dad told him isn’t entirely true.”
“But you did, umm, love him?”
“Yes, very much. We were happy through the years we got. It just took me longer to get to the same place as him.”
“Oh.”
“With Will, though, I did it differently. I showed up from day one, even when I doubted it. It helped to be more mature when I met him, quite different from when I was nineteen, but I still feel like that young woman sometimes. Unsure and vulnerable. But I chose Will. Every day I went to see him and hoped he would choose me back. And he did.”
“And now you’re sure.”
“Yes. We’re both sure about each other. Most of the time. Every day is a choice.”
I search her face for an inkling of something. Does she sense something is off with me? Why is she sharing all this?
“I’m very happy for you. Aiden is too.”
“Oh, yes. He loves Will.”
“Because he brings out your light, Aiden said.”
“Like Aiden for you, right?”
I blink, swallow hard, and nod. “Exactly,” I say, but it’s barely a whisper.
The day goes by in a blur of reviewing the hall where we’ll have the meal after the ceremony, going through decor placement with their coordinator, and meeting various family members of Will’s, hearing all about their family’s history in the area.
Before dinner, I take a breather and walk through the woodland gardens. The path is lined with blooming hydrangeas and tall rhododendrons, and I stroll around for over an hour, willing my brain to be void of thoughts of Aiden and what we need to do.
Instead, I try to focus on the way the sun bursts through the leaves above me, the smell of the grass and something floral, the odd clanking of a cowbell, and the hum of nearby bees.
When I return to the house, or I’d like to call it a small castle, I take a moment to remind myself why I’m here. Amara’s face is clear in my mind. Her joy. What Aiden said about her sacrificing so much for him her entire life and now he just wants her to focus on herself.
I’m here for Amara.
Keep smiling.
With every step towards the family dinner I tell myself this new mantra.
Smile for Amara. Smile for Amara.
“There you are,” she croons when I enter the dining room. “I was worried you’d got lost out there.”
“It’s a vast garden,” Will’s brother, Tom, says.
“More like a forest,” Will adds.
“It is. What a place to grow up,” I say, pleased my voice comes out as intended. “You must have had a blast playing hide and seek.”
Tom nods, laughing. “My God, we did. There was one time Mother couldn’t find us and had the entire staff searching the gardens for hours.”
“We were in the pantry,” Will croaks through laughter, wiping a tear from the corner of his eye. “Tom was stuffing his face with the chocolates meant for our birthday cake.”
The evening continues in the same spirit. Tom shares stories of Will’s shenanigans, and Will’s easy chuckles fill the room alongside Amara’s loud laughter. I’m genuinely enjoying this. And it feels as if I belong.
But I don’t.
I’m here as Amara’s son’s fake girlfriend. Sure, it turned real… So fucking real it stings my chest just thinking about it, and now I don’t know what to do. I just want time to pass quickly.
“Are you okay, Linnea?” Amara asks from my right.
“Oh, yes, why? Do I look tired?”
“Maybe that’s it. You don’t have to sit here with us oldies. We’re going to have a drink, but we’ll head to bed soon as well. Did you find your room okay, do you want me to walk you up?”
“I remember where it is. Thank you, though.”
“I wake up at the crack of dawn these days. Are you alright to eat when it suits you? Please get me when you’re up, and I’ll sit with you.”
“That’s kind of you,” I say. Normally I’d find some excuse to eat alone.
I’ve always enjoyed being alone. But the idea of having her warmth near me, keeping me preoccupied, feels much better.
I’ll have enough time alone going forward unless some miracle happens in the next few days, although I can’t picture what could soothe my concerns at this stage.