Fake Dating

Raisel _ POV

Tears never stop, and the humiliation worsens with hate-filled texts from people and my so-called friends bashing me. I have been staying in Soren’s place for a month now. Hazel got me some clothes, and I’ve cooped up in Soren’s penthouse’s cozy queen-sized guest room. Soren has been kind, trying to console me and bringing chocolates and ice cream.

“Raisel,” Soren called out, dressed casually in a white t-shirt, jacket, and jeans, a change from his usual formal attire.

“What?” I asked, not looking up.

“Get dressed; we’re going clubbing,” Soren announced.

“No, I don’t want to face anyone or go out,” I protested.

“You need to stop crying and get out. Try to enjoy yourself,” Soren urged.

“You don’t understand how it feels to be heartbroken, cheated on, and humiliated by someone you loved,” I cried again. Soren sighed.

“You’re acting like a coward, Raisel,” he said sharply. “I thought you wanted revenge. He’s out there with his ex—or no, wait, his current girlfriend, Davina—and here you are, crying your eyes out.” I angrily threw my pillow at him, upset by his bluntness. Where was the caring Soren who used to sit and listen to my rambling about Alaric’s cute moments and how he turned into a jerk I could never have imagined?

“I am no coward. I will take my revenge,” I declared with anger swelling.

“So dress up like a doll; we have a show to put on,” Soren responded. “I can’t let you lose to that jerk who deserves a bit of a show.”

“Is it necessary to take revenge? I mean, considering the dating contract we have in place,” I said, again doubtful about the plan to make Alaric look bad by dating Dalton. It didn’t sit right with me, given the current situation.

“Get changed; things will unfold. Trust me, Raisel,” Soren encouraged. I nodded as he shut the door, feeling nervous about this plan. Maybe I was being bold and not the naive housewife anymore. I needed to return to my true self, which got lost in Alaric’s desire for a ‘good girl’ and housewife. I realized how he had manipulated me slowly to the point where I lost sight of myself, constantly worried about what people thought, if I looked beautiful, or if I was dressing modestly as Alaric always preferred.

Stepping out of the shower, I dried my hair and walked to the closet. I chose a bold, short red dress with a plunging neckline and spaghetti straps, applied makeup, and let my hair down. I spritzed on my favorite perfume, Venus, which had a floral scent with a hint of cinnamon. Finally, I adorned myself with jewelry from Hazel’s collection and slipped into black platform heels that perfectly matched the dress.

“I’m ready,” I announced, leaving my room. Soren’s gaze swept over me from head to toe, and I did a twirl for him. “Do I look like a billionaire’s girlfriend?” I asked.

“You look gorgeous,” Soren replied, his voice a bit low, making my heartbeat. No, this couldn’t be happening; I wasn’t supposed to feel these things—it was just my emotions on a rollercoaster ride. A wave of self-consciousness hit me. Alaric used to comment whenever I wore more revealing clothes, making me feel insecure about not being skinny enough to wear them. I had never worn such clothes out of these insecurities.

“I should change,” I said hesitantly.

“Why?” Soren asked, stopping me.

“Don’t let your insecurities get the better of you. You look beautiful,” Soren reassured me.

“I’m not too fat? I’m not skinny,” I whispered, voicing my insecurities.

“You are perfect, Raisel,” he whispered, his voice close and comforting. I could smell his cologne, and his hazel gaze was warm and understanding. I felt secure in his presence.

“Let’s go,” I followed him out, and he opened the door of a Chevrolet Corvette parked in the garage. The entire parking lot was filled with sports cars—name a brand, and it was there.

“You’re still a crazy fan of cars,” I commented.

“Yes, my company will soon launch a sports car,” Soren said.

“But doesn’t your company deal with land?” I asked, puzzled.

“We’re looking to expand into every industry,” he replied calmly, but it seemed like he was hiding something. As the car sped up, so did my heartbeat, and damn, Soren’s sexy hands never showed as much as they did now, steering the vehicle with solid arms—good enough for Soren to impress any girl, unlike back when he couldn’t manage to win the heart of the girl he loved. I don’t remember her name.

“Raisel,” he corrected gently. “Act like we’re a couple in love. Don’t be shy or awkward with me, and leave the rest to me—I’ll twist the tale against Alaric.”

“I’ve been practicing talking about you. I heard you’ve never dated anyone,” I said.

“You stalk me?” he asked with a raised eyebrow.

“I didn’t stalk you. For some reason, I always see you in the news, always with your hookups,” I replied.

“Jealous?” he teased.

I scoffed at him. I didn’t know what he had planned for me in this revenge scheme, but I decided to go with the flow. Paparazzi were already swarming the club when Soren helped me out of the car. Cameras flashed, and I stood bold, refusing to cry or show weakness. Yet, the flashing lights brought back the horror of that night. My hands trembled with fear, and my body followed suit. Microphones pushed forward, bombarding me with questions.

“Raisel,” Soren called out, taking my hand and guiding me away from the lights and into the VIP lounge. His hazel eyes were on me as he caressed my cheeks. “Calm down, Raisel. I’m here,” he soothed, pulling me into a desperately needed hug. No one was around to see me cry. “I’m sorry I failed to be bold and put on a show.”

“Doesn’t matter,” Soren said. I broke the embrace and remembered Soren was never one to let anyone touch him. He used to hate anyone touching his body, and here he was, hugging for the first time.

“What?” Soren asked at my stare.

“Nothing. I’ll refresh my makeup,” I said. Soren nodded. As soon as I stepped out, I heard Soren.

“Make sure no one says anything ill about my girlfriend in any articles,” he spoke. When he referred to me as his girlfriend, it felt like I was his real girlfriend. I shook off my thoughts. Soren acted like a good boyfriend, as he was my best friend. I remembered how I was tired of getting roses from guys in class and being nagged to date them, so I had asked Soren to be a fake boyfriend to help, who was ready to repay his debt to me as I had saved him from being picked on by seniors. What are the odds that I would be in debt to him? With his help, he came like a knight in shining armor. I walked to Soren, who smiled at me and disconnected the call.

“Guys,” Hazel walked in haste.

“What is it?” I asked.

“Your ex-husband has announced his marriage to Davina.” I stood still with the news. Hazel said, showing me the picture.