The Vows We Fake

Chapter 12: Ghosts and Couple Photoshoots

Zane’s voice was a low hum in my ear. “I’ll walk you out.”

My heart rate picked up at his voice, but I softly removed his fingers holding my arm. “You don’t have to.”

“I want to,” he insisted.

“I don’t want you to.”

“Remind me who’s your employer again?”

I gave him a look but didn’t respond. Grabbing my clipboard, I started walking out of the tasting room. I heard the sound of his light footsteps just behind me. I knew he would follow me either way. He didn’t handle rejection so well. As we stepped outside into the garden path leading back to the mansion, he fell into step beside me.

“You seem tense,” he said.

I gritted my teeth. “It’s been a long week. And I’ve just been humiliated in public so… I don’t know, Mr. Blackwood. Tense is expected.”

He studied me. “You really take this job seriously.”

I didn’t reply.

Then, softly, he asked, “Have we really met before?”

“No,” I lied. “I don’t think so.”

He smiled faintly, and it feels like mockery. “Pity. You seem… familiar. Your hair is a bit different though. Why did you cut it?”

“None of your business.”

“Hmm, so friendly and conversational this afternoon, aren’t we?”

Before I could answer, we’re interrupted.

“Zane, darling!”

Sera.

I let out a sigh.

She rounded he corner, elegant as ever in a silk wrap dress, her red hair bouncing as she walked. Her smile faltered when she noticed me.

“Oh. You’re still here.”

“I was just leaving,” I said flatly.

“Perfect.” She slipped her arm into Zane’s like it belongs there. “Zane darling,” she said, “You’re not supposed to overexert yourself. Dr. Caldwell insisted on rest after…”

“I’m fine,” he said, brushing her concern away.

“We have our engagement photos in an hour.” Sera tightened her grasp on him and leaned in, whispering something in his ear that made his jaw twitch.

I use that as an opportunity to walk away. I felt embarrassed and humiliated, and what I needed least was fawning moments from our model couple. As I left, I heard Sera’s voice drift after me, low and sharp.

“She’s the planner, right? You really should be more polite. She might poison the wedding cake.”

They both laughed.

I clenched my clipboard even tighter.

##

I took a tour of the hotel when the sun was setting just to clear my head. And there was Sera. Looking flawless by the poolside. She smiled as she saw me. Almost as if she was waiting for me.

“Quite the display in the tasting room,” she said lightly.

She wasn’t there, yet somehow information had gotten to her. I rolled my eyes. “I forgot you have eyes and ears everywhere.”

“Nothing ever escapes my notice. Nothing,” she stressed.

“Good for you.”

She gave me a slow look. “You handled it well, though. So professional and all.”

“Why wouldn’t I?” I replied evenly.

She tilted her head. “I was worried it might be… nostalgic.”

I didn’t answer.

She stepped closer, her tone still playful, but her eyes dark. “You know, sometimes memories fade for a reason. Maybe it’s better to let them go.”

“Is that what you tell yourself at night?”

Her smile faded, just a bit. “Careful, Amara.”

I met her gaze. “You don’t get to erase history just because it doesn’t suit your narrative.”

“Oh, sweetheart,” she murmured. “I didn’t erase anything. You did that all by yourself.”

And then she walked away, the click of her heels syncing with my rapid heartbeat.

I stared at the pool a long time after she left. I’d come here to relax, but my mind was anything but. This was crazy. The whole situation was crazy. I knew not to underestimate Sera, but she kept proving more and more sly.

And Zane… what the hell was going on? I was tired of the back and forth. Did he remember or not? Or at least, if he didn’t remember, what exactly did he know about me? About us? What were his true feelings for Sera? He wasn’t dumb; surely he could tell that she’s a manipulator.

I went back to my suite and ordered in a pizza. I was stress-eating, but I didn’t care. It’s either that or I start to spiral. A slicr of pizza in one hand, I opened my laptop to Google search engine. I had done this before, looked for proof or a trace of the past, anything that said I wasn’t imagining the history we shared. But here I was, scouting the web… again. Perhaps there must be information that I missed. Something hidden in all the lies.

But every article was the same: Zane’s tragic accident, the memory loss, his miraculous recovery, and Sera’s unwavering support. My name barely appeared. And when it did, I was “a disgraced former employee” or “unreliable source.”

Then I found another photo of the same charity gala we went to five years ago. It was as blurry as the first. We stood together, me in emerald green, Zane in a tux, both laughing at something outside the frame. But the image was cropped. And the caption read: Zane Blackwood with unknown guest.

Unknown guest? My chest tightened. Why would they erase me?

The screen stared back, offering no answers.

Suddenly, my phone buzzed. A blocked number was calling. I picked it up with shaky fingers. The line was silent for a few seconds. Then came a voice I hadn’t heard in years. It was hollow. Shaky. Rough.

“You shouldn’t be digging.”

Click. The call ended.