Page 57 of Faking Ties
Closing the door behind us, he takes a seat on the bed, and I wring my hands together.Where do I start? How can I make this right?As I have an internal meltdown, Hunter just stares at me in silence. The minutes tick by, and I can’t take it anymore.
“I’m so sorry,” I whisper. “It killed me to lie to you.”
“But you did.” A muscle pulses in his jaw as he shakes his head. “You could’ve told me in the beginning, when we first made the agreement. I would’ve understood.”
“I get that, and you’re right. But it also wasn’t my place to decide who to trust and who to tell. This isn’t my life, but Stella’s, and I had to respect that and her privacy.”
A bitter laugh escapes his lips, the sound echoing in the tense silence. “Who were you, then? All our conversations… Who was I having them with? Some made-up version of Stella, or you?”
“Me. I was me the entire time, much to Rachel’s dismay. The only time I pretend to be Stella is when I’m on stage.”
“I want to believe you, but you’re so good at lying. I don’t even know what to trust anymore.”
His words scrape down my throat like a mouthful of thorns. Of course, he doesn’t believe me. I’d have a difficult time believing him if our roles were reversed.
I remain silent and he says, “I just need the truth.”
“The truth?” I scoff. “The truth is I’m a dirt-poor nobody with a sick mom who’s pretending to be Stellafor money.” And then I tell him everything. Starting with the TikTok to now. When I finish, he’s silent for a long time.
“Say something,” I beg. “I’d understand if you want out of our dating agreement or?—”
“I need some air,” he finally chokes out, his voice raw and tight with barely contained anger. It isn’t a question, but a desperate plea for escape. He doesn’t wait for a response, his long strides eating up the distance to the door. I watch, helpless, as his hand grips the knob so hard his knuckles turn white.
The door shuts quietly behind him and the weight of his unspoken words, the betrayal in his gaze, all crashes down on me like a tidal wave. Tears prick my eyes, blurring the already distorted image of the empty space where he once was.
I sink to the bed and stare at the door, as if willing him to walk back through it. I should go check on Stella, but I can’t bring myself to move. I’m stuck, still frozen in the conversation.
HUNTER
My thoughts are like unleashed hounds,chasing each other in circles as I storm through the streets of Tribeca.Anger,disbelief,and hurt tear me apart.She’s not who she said she was, and I can’t even wrap my mind around that kind of deception.The woman I fell for is a carefully crafted illusion and nothing more.
Of course it wouldn’t be real. A relationship with Stella was a dream, one that was easily shattered in the harsh daylight. Every block I pass is a battleground, my mind racing, conjuring scenarios, accusations, doubts.
As I pass the cozy coffee shop where I found her the day after the gala,a fresh surge of anger ignites within me. No wonder she was acting strangely after I asked her to dinner and messaged on her phone. I bet she had to ask Stella or Rachel for permission. She probably didn’t even want to go out with me in the first place.
I run my hands through my hair and pull at the ends trying to calm my spiraling thoughts. Elodie and Stella’s deception is like a twisted joke. The cobblestones crunching beneath my feet feel more like shattered dreams. The towering buildings loom over me like judgmental giants. Every face I pass is a potential witness to my humiliation. I need to get off the crowded streets. Finding a park, I sink into the first empty bench I spot.
Was her laughter genuine or a carefully constructed performance? Were her confessions true or a rehearsed line? I can’t help but dissect our history, word by word, searching for clues to a reality I can trust.
There were things that were odd but now make sense, like her texting someone nonstop when we first met or her freezing on the red carpet when asked about the soundtrack. Hell, Elodie didn’t know where anything was in Stella’s kitchen. It should’ve tipped me off, but I chalked it all up to it being part of who Stella was.
My thoughts are a relentless tide, so I force myself to focus on the world around me. A man across from me is lost in a sandwich, his focused munching a stark contrast to my internal chaos. Further down the path, a woman is absorbed in a book, while two elderly ladies share a lively conversation. In the mundane rhythm of their lives, I find a temporary respite, a chance to gather my scattered thoughts.
With it, realization seeps in—Elodie was bound byan NDA,a contractual straitjacket that silenced her truth.It's a bitter pill to swallow,but I begrudgingly understand the impossible position she was in. She couldn’t tell me, even if she wanted to.
I hate to admit it, but it takes a certain kind of bravery and dedication to switch places with the biggest popstar in the world. It says a lot about what kind of person Elodie is to do that, to go to such extremes, to help Stella and her mom.
I blow out a long breath.
What hurts is the fact I don’t know if I fell for Elodie or some version of Stella she made up. If I didn’t fall for her, I doubt I’d feel this betrayal. I was ready to throw our contract out, to make my feelings known to her, but now I can’t trust how I feel for her.
Not until I know if I fell for the real Elodie or not.
As the sun creeps across the sidewalk, I mull over my options. Do we continue to fake date, or should I cut ties with her now? Either way, I need to talk to Elodie now that I’ve calmed down.
I make my way back to Stella’s apartment, and her security lets me inside. Stella’s still on the couch, Kai hovering nearby.
“Are you okay?” she asks.
