Chapter Six Imani
‘So why did we break up?’ I let myself sink into my armchair and tap a finger against my chin. ‘It has to be because of something big, hence the lingering hate, but not too big, otherwise people will wonder why they never realised we were ever even together in the first place.’
‘Something big…’ Asher echoes cautiously.
‘Cheating is too messy,’ I say, ticking it off on a finger. ‘And cliché. Plus people will ask who with and then we’ll either have to enlist a third person into all of this, which would just complicate things even further, or we’d have to invent a whole fake person, and who has the time for that?’
He blinks and I worry that Asher might actually think I’m insane. ‘Right. But is the “why” really all that important? I feel like we could just get away with being vague.’
I can’t help but snort. ‘The “why” is incredibly important, trust me. This needs to be as believable as possible, and if we don’t have a genuine reason for why we’re at each other’s throats, it’s all going to fall apart at the first hurdle.’
We’ve spent the last hour or so piecing together our fake history, and I’m pretty happy with what we’ve got so far.
To my surprise, Asher’s the one who gets us going with a backstory.
He suggests we keep it simple and say we met at a party and hit it off.
Ironic really, given how we did technically meet at a party all those years ago, though I doubt Asher remembers that.
The moment was so fleeting, I barely even remember it, so I haven’t brought it up.
The story we ultimately decide on is that we met at the party and then kept bumping into each other on campus, eventually going from strangers offering each other polite smiles when we passed in the corridor to lovers within the span of a semester.
As for why we kept things quiet, we settle on the admittedly cliché, ‘my father didn’t want me to date while studying’ on top of Asher’s well-known reclusive nature for why nobody realised we were together.
It’s a little bit flimsy, I have to admit, and if my father hears about his apparent input in my dating life back then, he’ll know it’s a lie but I don’t think anyone will prod too hard on this aspect of the con.
Especially not after we start causing a scene and become the focal point for high-society gossip.
‘How about we lean into the whole “I wasn’t allowed to date while at university” thing?’ I suggest. ‘Maybe… Maybe you wanted to go public with us and I wasn’t ready?’
Asher grimaces. ‘My brothers would never believe that. If anything, it’d be the other way round.’
At the mention of his brothers, I can’t help but marvel at how different he is compared to them. Not that I personally know Andreas and Teddy Vouvalis, but it’s clear that the two of them thrive in the spotlight, particularly Teddy, while Asher actively shies away from it.
‘And anyway,’ Asher continues, ‘won’t the whole “wasn’t allowed to date” story fall apart if one of your actual exes from back then makes a reappearance?’
‘Oh, I actually didn’t date at university.
Not because I wasn’t allowed,’ I add quickly, noting the slight look of alarm that flashes over Asher’s face.
‘As long as I don’t involve myself with anyone that could “put the company in jeopardy”.
’ I roll my eyes as I mimic my father’s voice, repeating the phrase I’ve heard too many times in my life to count. ‘He couldn’t care less who I date.’
The current situation notwithstanding.
‘So, why didn’t you?’ Asher asks, then pauses for a second and lets his gaze flicker over me before he says, ‘I can’t imagine it was for lack of any interest.’
I can’t help but laugh, especially when Asher suddenly clamps his mouth shut, looking very much like he wishes he hadn’t said the last part aloud.
‘Thank you?’ I say.
The highest point of his cheekbones darkens slightly and I realise that he’s blushing. He nods jerkily, looking for all the world like he wants the floor to open up and swallow him.
‘People were interested,’ I concede. ‘But I guess I just wanted to focus on getting my degree. And—’ I cut myself off and shake my head. Asher doesn’t want or need to hear this.
‘And what?’ he says.
‘It’s nothing,’ I say with a shrug.
Asher lifts a brow. He doesn’t say anything but the silent it’s not nothing rings loud between us.
I sigh and then reason that maybe this is something my fake ex should know about me.
‘Do you ever feel like you don’t have anything for yourself?
It’s like, our father’s, right – sometimes it feels like every door I’ve ever had opened for me is only because of him.
And don’t get me wrong, I’m grateful, but…
Asher still hasn’t said a word, but his expression has softened slightly in a way that makes my chest tighten unexpectedly.
‘I guess I just wanted something that was mine,’ I say, swallowing down a rapidly forming lump in my throat.
‘Completely mine. My grades. My degree. My hard work. I wanted to prove, to myself more than anyone else, that I was actually intelligent and capable and not just another trust fund baby floating through life on my last name. I think I just needed to prove that I could do something on my own. I wanted to earn something, for once. Dating would’ve been a distraction,’ I finish with a shrug.
Asher leans back slightly. His deep brown eyes are locked on me and I can’t look away. ‘I get it,’ he says after a moment, and from the way he’s looking at me, I can tell he truly does.
It shouldn’t surprise me that Asher of all people understands me like this – we do come from similar backgrounds after all – but it does.
The only other person I’ve shared these anxieties with is Sloane, and as sympathetic as she is, she just doesn’t understand why being reduced to my family name bothers me so much.
And how could she? Although she’s a Chavan and that comes with its own set of unique headaches, she’s built something for herself outside of the family name.
I’ve not been so lucky – though not for the lack of trying.
But Asher? He’s a Vouvalis and I have no doubt in my mind that it comes with its own set of insecurities, especially with a father like Georgios.
‘Anyway.’ I clear my throat and force a bright grin onto my face. ‘My not-so-tragic backstory isn’t important here.’
For the briefest of moments, his expression flickers with an emotion I can’t quite place, and it’s gone so quickly I wonder if I imagined it.
‘What is important,’ I continue, ‘is figuring out our backstory. Why’d we break up?’
‘Let’s keep it simple,’ Asher says. ‘We’ll say that one of us took the relationship more seriously than the other. Maybe I saw it as just a bit of fun and you were—’
‘Imagining myself in a wedding dress from day one?’ I snort.
‘It’s a bit of a stretch, but I guess it was nearly ten years ago now.
Nineteen-year-old me probably was a little more dramatic than I am these days.
’ I nod, more to myself than anything else, and reach for my pen and notebook to hurriedly scrawl this new direction down.
‘Okay, yeah. I think that’ll work. We’ll say I wanted more, some real commitment, and you were just in it for a good time for a couple of months. ’
Asher lets out a surprisingly melodious burst of laughter. ‘Sorry,’ he says, catching the curious look I shoot him. ‘It’s just…’ He gestures vaguely at me, his cheeks beginning to flush a muted rose. ‘The idea of me not wanting more with you is kind of ridiculous.’
My pen stills mid-scribble.
Asher seems to realise, belatedly, what he’s just said and his eyes go comically wide.
‘I just mean, well, look at you, I would’ve had to have been stupid to…
’ He winces, shakes his head and starts again.
‘You know what? Nineteen-year-old me probably would’ve been dumb enough to let you go.
So, yeah. I suppose it’s entirely plausible. ’
The words tumble out in a tangled rush and by the time he’s finished, his cheeks are a dark red. I’m fairly certain mine aren’t far behind.
‘Oh,’ I manage to cough out. ‘Right. Well. That’s good? I think?’
Asher clears his throat. I clear mine. The air between us feels thick and for some reason I find myself staring at his hands as his long fingers fidget with the edge of a sheet of paper.
‘Anyway,’ he says stiffly. ‘It works. You wanted something serious. I didn’t. We broke up.’
I nod slowly, forcing myself to move past the heat still crawling up the back of my neck. ‘Okay then. Let’s go with that.’
Asher’s gaze roves over me. He catches my eye and then glances away just as quickly, as if direct eye contact might make both of us suddenly combust on the spot.
As if he’s just looking for something, anything, to do he reaches for the bottle of sparkling water on the table, then seems to remember that he hates sparkling water, and sets it back down.
The sequence of events betrays him far more than the persistent blush on his cheeks ever could.
He’s flustered, and it’s weirdly endearing.
I shake my head suddenly. Not sure where that thought came from. Focus, Imani. Focus.
‘Okay, next,’ I say brusquely. ‘Who ended things?’
‘You,’ he says immediately.
I frown. ‘Me?’
‘Yeah.’ Some of the earlier awkwardness has melted off him now as he rests his elbows on his knees and leans in slightly. ‘If our story is that you wanted commitment and I didn’t, then you would’ve walked away. No?’
I see what he’s getting at, but…‘Wouldn’t it be more dramatic if you dumped me?
That way the bitterness makes sense on both sides.
If I dumped you, I wouldn’t be this mad all these years later, would I?
I’d be relieved that I dodged a bullet. This way, I’m angry because you couldn’t commit and yet you’re the one who ended things, and you’re mad because you’re being made out to be the bad guy. ’
Asher looks at me like I’m insane. ‘No one,’ he says, huffing out a quiet laugh, ‘would buy that I ended things with you.’