chapter 9

I push the door open.

Lana is in denim shorts, dusting the bookshelf. The apartment is surprisingly clean and tidy.

"Expecting someone?"

"Yep." She smiles. "Who knows when your future husband might pop in?"

I collapse on the couch, rolling my eyes. She tosses away the cloth and sits next to me, rubbing her hands in glee.

"Spill the tea." She shrieks. "How did it go?"

"I said a big fat NO."

"What?" She's confused. "Why?"

"He's not my type."

"He's everyone's type." She says. "The most eligible bachelor in the country. One of the most successful billionaires in the world. The Fùcking CEO of Camille Cosmetics. The man who can change your life in a snap of a finger. The man who drove to this cheap apartment begging you to marry him. Any woman would willingly walk on thorns just to get to that man."

I sit up straight to look at her. Her eyes are flaring with anger. I've never seen her so pissed at me. It's a little funny so I laugh.

"Oh, you find this funny."

"I find you funny." I chuckle. "Just to make things clear, Damien doesn't want to marry me. He just wants to do it for the cameras. He offered me a contract. I turned it down. That's all."

I watch Lana's eyes go from anger to amusement. She's beaming at me. She falls back on the couch and bursts into a loud laugh. Oh, now she's the one who finds me funny.

"Can we trade lives for a second?" She says, still laughing. "There's no way your life is real, Dan."

"What?"

"This is the fake-marriage trope in books." She explains. "The one where you have to get married for convenience but eventually fall in love."

I stare at her in complete shock as she bubbles in joy. Lana is a hopeless romantic. She romanticizes everything - even the bad stuff. Says it all has to happen for the plot. She thinks life is a movie and we are all characters with little lovely stories. It's one of the things I love about her - but at this moment, I'm not so sure about that.

"He's using me to boost his business!" I blurt out. "In turn, he will help me build my fashion career. It's a two-year contract."

"Don't tell me you said No to that!" Her face falls in her hands. "Dani, are you dumb? Opportunity is banging at your door. By the end of this contract, you might be one of the biggest fashion designers in the country. Or even have your own Fashion House. Isn't that what you've always wanted?"

"I'm pregnant, remember?"

"I'm sure he doesn't care." She says. "Plus, it's a fake marriage. The pregnancy might create more buzz for his business. Isn't that what he wants?"

"I read the contract." I sigh. "Something just doesn't feel right. What if he wants to murder me? He's never been seen out with any other woman but me."

"That's cute."

"That's concerning." I scowl at her.

"I don't care what you say." She giggles. "I think Damien is crazy about you. This fake-marriage thing is just his silly excuse to spend more time with you and see your little cute ass. If you read more romcoms, you would understand."

"Are we going to forget that he fùcked me and then vanished in the middle of the night, just to come back a completely different man? Are we going to forget that he ghosted me and told his housekeeper he never wants to see me again only to show up at your door, asking to marry me?" I pause. "Oh, and I saw some bruises on his knuckles earlier. He must have gotten in a fight or something. The guy is creepy and mysterious and probably violent. Is that the person you want your friend to spend the next two years with?"

"At least he's better than Brandon." She says. "The mediocre man you spent eight years with, remember?"

"Better the devil you know than the angel you don't."

"If the angel I don't know is hot and handsome and handing me a golden career on a silver platter, fùck the disgusting devil I know." She says. "Plus, everyone has secrets..."

Lana stands from the couch, a big grin on her face. She fishes out an envelope from one of her books and hands it to me.

"Please don't kill me."

I open the envelope and scowl at her.

"The ten-thousand dollar cheque!" I snap. "You took it!"

"Damien stuck it between this book." She says. "He asked me to make sure you received it. Don't shoot the messenger."

"You think I want to shoot the messenger?" I snort. "No! I want to stab her fifty times and decapitate her."

"If you can't marry him," she says. "At least accept the cheque. Stop being so stubborn. It's not like you don't need it, babe."

"I don't need free money from creepy billionaires with creepy contracts."

"Beggars don't choose."

"I'm going to pretend like you didn't just say that shamelessly to my face."

Lana sighs and lifts her hands in surrender, tired of the conversation. She disappears to the kitchen and grabs some sandwiches. She passes one to me as she bites on another. She has a little smile on the corners of her lips.

"What are you not telling me?"

"Rooney Lane wants to make me dinner." She giggles. "At his house."

"You lucky girl!" I chuckle. "No, he's the lucky boy for having such a gorgeous gifted girl like you."

"Right?" She rolls a strand of her hair. "Are you going to be okay or should I ask Nate to babysit you for the night?"

"I'm not a baby." I sneer. "And you don't talk to Nate."

"Well, the weirdo started talking to me because of you." She says. "And you have a baby inside you. I want to know that the two of you will be safe when I'm away."

"We'll be fine, Mom." I tease. "Go get that dìck."

***

The house is suddenly silent and cold when Lana leaves.

I hate silence. It makes me think about things I don't what to think about. It makes me feel things I don't want to feel. Rage. Resentment. Regret. Feelings that I bury when I'm around people. But it's hard to bury them when I'm alone.

I switch on the TV and put on some reality show packed with drama. Some drama to distract me. A black woman in a pink dress is complaining about her boyfriend of eight years being distant. She suspects he's cheating on her with someone at work. She drives to his workplace only to find her boyfriend kissing some blonde in the parking lot. When she confronts her boyfriend, he admits he doesn't love her anymore. He reveals that the blonde is pregnant and he wants to start a family. The blonde and boyfriend start laughing and kissing.

Lethal rage spews through me as I glare at the man. All I can see is Brandon and Wendy. Laughing at me. Making fun of me for paying his college fees and his bills for years. All for what???

To be stuck in Lana's apartment, homeless and jobless, watching some stupid show. To be pregnant and penniless with no parents to turn to. Brandon made me cut off my family. He made me cut off all my friends. And now I have nothing but a big burden of bitterness on my back.

I know the fake-marriage thing with Damien sounds like the perfect solution but he's a stranger. A stranger who fùcked me so well but then vanished past midnight and came back as a devil. Then he ghosted me and tried to pay me off and now he wants to marry me? And can we talk about how bizarre the contract is? I won't be able to have sèx with anyone unless I make them sign an NDA. WHAT!!! And I must live in the same house with him and never move away until the termination of the contract? That sounds very creepy. Lastly, the way he tried to hide the bruises on his knuckles was alarming. Who did he fight with? And why did he fight with them?

All these haunting questions make my mind circle back to Brandon. He's to blame for everything. He's the reason I'm swimming in this mess. He's the reason I crossed paths with Damien. If he had just stayed faithful and paid for my studies and supported my dreams, our life would be perfect. We would be happy about this pregnancy. He has always wanted to have a family of his own. This baby would have brought so much joy to our home. My stomach clenches at the thought of dragging this innocent baby into this pool of problems. I want to give it the best life possible. I'm stuck in a dilemma...

The doorbell rings, shoving me out of the sea of thoughts.

Brandon is standing at the door, holding a bouquet of roses. He's wearing jeans and the green sweater I crocheted for him. He never wore it when we were together. I always thought he didn't like it but was afraid to admit it.

"What are you doing here?" I ask coolly.

"Lana is on a date with some wack writer." He says. "Just saw her post and knew you were alone. Thought I should pop in and keep you company."

"Well, I don't want your company." I sneer. "My boyfriend is on his way. He won't be pleased to find you here holding those cheap flowers. He's the jealous type."

For a moment, I'm convinced he doesn't believe a single word I said. Anger flickers in his eyes and I realise he actually bought the whole story. Clenching his jaw, he presses the bouquet on my chest. The flowers sprawl on the floor when I don't hold them.

Brandon reeks of sweat and scotch as he grabs my arm.

"Just a little reminder." He threatens. "If you crash my career, I'll be kind enough to bring flowers to your funeral."

He winks and walks away.

***