7. Vivienne #3
Her space is a riot of color and personality—unicorn bedding, walls painted lavender, bookshelves crammed with toys and children's novels. One wall features a large bulletin board covered with photos, drawings, and mementos.
"That's me and Dad at the zoo," she explains, pointing to a photo of a laughing Andrew with a younger Lily on his shoulders. "And that's from when Uncle Jaxon took me to his recording studio last week."
The second photo shows Jaxon helping Lily put on oversized headphones, both of them grinning at the camera. The tenderness in his expression contradicts every "bad boy rockstar" headline I've ever read about him.
"You and your uncle seem very close," I observe.
Lily shrugs. "He's trying. Sometimes he doesn't know what to do, but he asks me what I want instead of just deciding. Dad always knew what to do, but Uncle Jaxon listens better."
The simple assessment makes my heart twist. Children see so much more than we give them credit for.
"Is it okay that I'm here?" I ask impulsively, needing to hear her honest opinion.
She considers this with surprising seriousness. "Uncle Jaxon smiles more when you're around. And you know how to do good braids." She looks at me directly. "Are you going to leave like my mom did?"
The question knocks the wind from me. "Lily, I—"
"Dinner's ready," Jaxon's voice interrupts from the doorway. His expression tells me he heard Lily's question. "Everything okay in here?"
"Just girl talk," I say lightly, trying to recover. "Lily was showing me her amazing room."
"It's the coolest room in the house," he agrees, playing along. "Come on, monsters. Mrs. Patterson made her famous lasagna."
Dinner is simultaneously more awkward and more comfortable than I expected.
Mrs. Patterson's lasagna is indeed excellent, and Lily dominates the conversation with enthusiastic descriptions of her school project on endangered species.
Jaxon and I exchange occasional glances over her head, a strange intimacy developing in our shared responses to her endless questions.
"So how did Uncle Jaxon ask you to marry him?" Lily asks suddenly, fork halfway to her mouth. "Was it romantic like in the movies?"
I choke slightly on my water, unprepared for the question. Jaxon and I hadn't discussed this particular detail of our backstory.
"It was..." I begin, desperately improvising.
"Private," Jaxon cuts in smoothly. "Some things are just between Vivienne and me."
Lily rolls her eyes. "That means it wasn't romantic."
"It was perfect for us," I counter, finding my footing. "Not everyone needs a big public gesture."
"Did you get down on one knee at least?" she presses, clearly disappointed by our vague answer.
Jaxon and I exchange another glance. He gives an almost imperceptible nod.
"He did," I say, crafting our story as I speak. "In his music studio, after playing me a song he wrote. No audience, no cameras, just us."
Lily seems to accept this, her romantic sensibilities satisfied. "What about the ring?"
"It's being sized," Jaxon says. "Vivienne will have it soon."
The casual way he says my name, the ease with which we're constructing this fictional relationship—it's simultaneously comforting and unsettling.
After dinner, true to my promise, I help Lily with her hair while Jaxon handles some business calls. She chatters happily as I weave her dark strands into a complex braid, telling me about school, her friends, her plans to convince Jaxon to get a dog.
"Uncle Jaxon says maybe for my birthday," she confides. "But that's not until September, which is forever away."
"Forever is a long time," I agree solemnly. "What kind of dog would you want?"
"A rescue," she says immediately. "Dad always said rescue dogs know when they've been saved, so they love you extra."
My heart squeezes again at this glimpse of Andrew through his daughter's eyes—so different from the man I knew, who cheated and lied without remorse.
By the time I finish her hair, Lily's eyelids are drooping. Mrs. Patterson appears to shepherd her through her bedtime routine, leaving me to wander the main floor alone.
I find myself drawn to Jaxon's music studio, the door slightly ajar, warm light spilling into the hallway. I'm about to knock when I hear his voice, tense and low.
"It's not like that, Luke," he's saying. "This arrangement benefits us both."
I freeze, knowing I should announce my presence but unable to move.
"Of course I'm aware of the inheritance implications," he continues, frustration evident. "But that's not why I'm doing this."
My breath catches. Inheritance implications?
"No, she doesn't know that detail," Jaxon says after a pause. "And she doesn't need to. The custody case is motivation enough."
I back away quietly, mind racing. What doesn't he want me to know? What inheritance implications could our fake engagement possibly have beyond securing Lily's custody?
The certainty I felt this morning wavers, replaced by nagging doubt. I thought I understood Jaxon's motivations, thought we were partners in this charade. But now I'm not so sure.
And as I retreat to the blue room, I wonder what other secrets my fake fiancé might be keeping.