The Fake Fiancée

Chapter 9

Edward's POV

10:28 ME: You know that's a joke right?

I don't want her to sleep off thinking I was serious about my previous statement, that was only a joke, which I had wanted us to laugh over, but she seems to have gotten it all wrong. I keep texting. When I get tired, I just drop my phone in the drawer beside my bed.

If only she knew the kind of parents I have, she would never have agreed to be my fake fiancée for a day. Anyway, I can only wish that things work out well and no one suspects anything off.

I cannot wait to make my parents happy and proud of me. I just have to give my father the hope of his only son getting married. He has only three months to live, just like he said, so I have just three months to pretend like I will eventually get married to Estella. I have to make his last few months on earth worth it.

It will be a pain in the ass to hide the truth from everyone, but I hope no one gets to find out. Kathie, my sister, was also glad to hear about Estella. However, she is creepy sometimes and I hope she never gets to know what we are up to.

My P.A already booked a special room in the Hamptons restaurant, for the engagement party. I try to convince myself that everything will be alright, and after the engagement party, I will have nothing to do with Estella again. I glance at the engagement ring on my bedside. I must have slept off just immediately after taking a glance.

“Brhhh.” My lousy alarm wakes me up. I pick up my phone to check the time. It is 1:16 and I have missed five calls from Kathie. I call her back and she picks up straight away. “Hey, daddy's boy. How are you getting prepared for your engagement party and how’s she?"

"Who's she?” I inquire in pretense. "She,” Kathie repeats. "Don't go nuts Kathie. My fiancée is fine. And we are ready to get the ball rolling.” I reply, pretending to be excited about my statement. "Woah! Dad is gonna be so proud of you. I am proud of you too Eddy.” She utters gently.

“I know. I’ll see you when I come over to the family house." I state. “Alright." She hangs up the call. I pick up my phone to see that I have received a message from Estella.

9:16 ESTELLA: It's tomorrow, I'm nervous.

9:17 ME: Don't be.

★★★★★★

On the next day, I hum ‘If I Could’ by Celine Dion as I pick up the ring box I had earlier forgotten, and I run down the stairs. I hop into my car and drive off to Estella's address.

Getting there, I realized that she lived in a place worse than I had expected. It is a two-story block, but still below my expectations. I text Estella to inform her of my arrival and soon, I see her appear at the balcony on the top floor. I was taken aback. She still looks as gorgeous as ever.

I feel bad for admiring her at this point when we have business to do. She keeps looking down at me and I send her a text. She looks at her phone and her lips crack a smile. My phone chimes, she just replied to my message.

8:59 ESTELLA: you’re not looking bad either.

I didn't know when I started smiling sheepishly, but by the time I lifted my head, she was no longer there. Did this Estella actually just bubble me up? I giggle in amazement.

I walk towards the door, waiting patiently for her. I raise my eyebrow in amazement as soon as she comes out of the door. She looks elegant, dressed so gorgeously in the long lavender gown I bought for her. Her gracious smile fills the air. I hold out my hand to her, and she puts hers in mine as we walk towards my car.

“Didn’t know lavender would look this good on you," I speak, giggling slightly. She just flushes without saying a word. Getting to the car, I open the door of the front passenger seat and she gets in. I turn around, hop into the car, and we zoom off. It is a quiet moment; I think about how excited my parents will be by the time they see Estella, my fake fiancée.

“Estella,” I call. “Yes." She answers. “You are ready for this right?" I ask and she nods. "Good. If anyone asks you about your parents, just tell them they are no more.” She nods again. “You're not gonna say anything?"

“Like?" I sigh, as I notice she is not feeling the moment. “Like, you’re not looking bad either," I say, copying the comments she made earlier. She chuckles, her eyes gleaming mischievously. I suddenly notice her shoes. “Are those your shoes?" I ask. “Yes. Is there a problem?"

“Of course, there is a problem. You can't wear those to the party." I blurt out. “And why is that?" She asks, bewildered. “I don't know, but we need to get a new pair." I drive speedily till we get to the closest boutique and then I stop the car. “Come on, let's find a better one," I say and she gets down from the car, following right behind me. We spend minutes sorting out shoes, the best we can find. Finally, we found a good pair of shoes to match the gown and the party. She puts it on.

“It fits perfectly. This is the right one." I comment. We walk to the counter, pay for the shoes, and return to the car. It is 9:31 already. “We are running late for our engagement party," I say. Then, I remember the ring in my pocket. I bring it out and hand it over to her. “What's this?" She questions me. “Your ring, put it on."

She tries to put it on with great effort but it does not fit into her fingers. “Damn! This cannot be." I take a look at her pale hands, they were flawless, as if untouched by the sun. I stop the car immediately and try to help her force it in. “Look this has got to fit in. I think you should tighten your finger." I suggest. “No, it's better if I free them." She disagrees with my suggestion. "No, tighten them,” I say. "No!” She replies.

"Gosh.” I sink into my seat, placing my hands on my forehead in frustration. I can feel her eyes on me. “Alright, fine. It's tightened already.” I lean closer to her and try to force the ring in but it wouldn't come on. I sigh heavily. She places her hands on mine and looks at me intently, pouting her lips. "You know what? Let's both do it together. I try to force it in, while you assist my hand.” She voices.

"Alright. I pray that works.” We apply her method and soon, the ring comes on. Finally, we let out a low-pitched scream in excitement. I turn the car keys and keep driving again. “My finger hurts badly though." She complains, making a sad face. “Really?" I ask. “Yes."

I stretch my hand towards hers and massage it gently. “How does it feel now?” I ask, without looking at her. "Better I guess.” She shrugs. "Just better? After I just played the role of a masseur?” I ask, my voice filled with humor. "I wish.” She chuckles.

"What's your best color?” She asks after a while, leaning closer to me. "Never had one, but I'll go with green,” I utter. "Hahaha, why?” I raise my head, pretending to think about it. "Don't you think couples should have the same best color?” I ask. “You mean fake couples." She smirks. “Whatever, it's still green." I grinned.

Just as time flies, we soon arrive at the Hamston restaurant. Cars of all varieties are parked outside. I find a good spot to park my car, and I turn to face Estella, who pulses her lips, facing the opposite direction. I held out my hands to her, trying with great effort to sound comforting. “I know you're nervous, but it will be fine. Remember we’re doing this together." I say.

“Mm." She nods, gazing at me. I could sense fear in her gaze. “I think my parents will be in there already. They love handshakes a lot, give them nothing more than that and put up a great smile. Everything will be fine, I promise." With that, I get out of the car and she does too.

I try to hold her hand but she resists. “Why?" I ask in surprise. “This is all fake." She blurts loudly. I gape. “Don't do this. We are here already, you can't do this. You just have to act like we are real couples." I say and add, “Please, after now, it will all be over, and we can go our separate ways, and I will keep feeding my parents with lies." I assure her.