“Okay.” Her eyes felt like they were spinning in her head, but that was one thing she could see – a Starbucks on the next block. “Should I get you anything?”
Lillian laughed. “No, it’s okay. I’ll be there soon. Hang tight!”
Rose put her phone back into her purse and took a deep breath before starting the slow march across the street.
Despite her theatrics, no one had stopped to look at her, which was a strange comfort, though it did make her feel more alone.
She opened the door to the coffee shop and walked into a comfortingly familiar scene. The smell of newly roasted beans surrounded her and pulled her in. People chatted in low voices and music played quietly in the background.
Calm. Coffee.
This was good. She could do this.
Rose got in line. Even though all her favorite drinks were on the menu for fall, she couldn’t get into the spirit. She ordered a black coffee and took a seat in the corner.
Rose pulled out her phone and used the camera to see how terrible she looked after her cry-and-run.
Surprisingly, her makeup hadn’t streaked much – just a bit of mascara under her eyes. She was able to wipe it away with a napkin. Worse were the blotches on her face, her skin’s way of expressing its anger for her daring to exercise.
How had it all gone so badly? Why hadn’t she planned what she was going to say?
When Rose woke up that morning, she had a pressure in her chest. It felt like if she didn’t talk to Craig immediately, she’d never be able to. She’d have to keep up the lie forever, getting a fake PhD to drag around for the rest of her life.
She had visions of hanging the monstrosity in her office and bringing it to dinner parties. People would ask why the lettering looked funny and she’d tell them it was very old, like her and her education, and not to ask any more about it. Then she’d return home with Craig, a man who married her without ever knowing her real name or ever meeting her old college friends, because she had to fake all of that as well.
When she’d burst into Craig’s office that morning and he’d met her with those kind eyes, she thought it would be okay. She thought she could tell him how she felt and it would work itself out. They would laugh about how silly she’d been, and he would say it was fine,bettereven, if she wasn’t Rose Woodson, because Rose Woodley was enough.
That was the lie. That was the problem. Rose Woodley had never been enough. She’d never been smart or assertive enough to get a promotion. She’d never been tall or thin enough to enjoy the beach without hiding under a towel, lying that she didn’t like to swim, that she didn’t like the sun. To Greg she’dneverbeen enough. He didn’t know what he was looking for, what it’d take to settle down, but it wasn’t her.
Why did she think this time was different? How could she have been so naïve?
It wasn’t enough to ruin Craig’s trust. Rose had to go and endanger the company, too. Lying about her education was one thing; getting a bunch of publicity as a fake expert was another.
Craig was right. If her lie got out, SerenadeMe would lose credibility. Investors would flee. Users would be appalled that an imposter was making matches and they’d run to companies that didn’t lie to them, like Brett’s.
Shudder.
All her lovely, cheerful coworkers – what would happen to them when SerenadeMe lost half of its users? When the stock price fell? When the board had to make cuts?
They’d get laid off, that’s what. They’d be left to scramble for their next job, their next paycheck. Marriages would crack under the strain, and children would hear tense arguments through walls and slammed doors.
All because Rose had wanted to play pretend.
She wanted to crawl into a cave and disappear. Her breathing picked up and she felt the tears coming back, welling up in her chest, crashing out of her eyes. She was on the brink of losing it when the door opened and Lillian appeared.
She gave a little wave and a smile. Rose raised her hand and waved back.
Chapter Twenty-six
The skin under Rose’s eyes was dark and shiny. She was completely unable to return Lillian’s smile, her face sullen and pale.
Lillian rushed over and slipped into the seat across from her. “Hey! How are you doing?”
“Badly.” Rose kept her eyes focused on the coffee cup in front of her, picking at the cardboard seam. There was no lid on the cup, half of the black coffee gone. “Are you going to get a drink?”
Lillian shook her head. “I’m fine. Unless you want something?”
“Could you get me a new identity? I messed mine up.”
