The Sweetest Revenge

Chapter 7 - A Walk In The Park

"Emma, seriously, I need details!" Sophie's voice crackled through the phone, her impatience so palpable I could practically see her tapping her foot. "You've been holding out on me since this morning. What did Liam say?"

After my conversation with Liam, Sophie texted me saying she had to go into work for an emergency, so I wasn't able to fill her in on what happened.

I flopped onto my bed, staring at the ceiling. I had been dreading this conversation, but Sophie was relentless. "He offered again, Sophie. He wants to be my fake boyfriend."

"Wait, so... it wasn't just the vodka talking?"

"Nope," I sighed. "He said it again this morning, completely sober."

"And? What did you say? Did you agree? Please say you agree, because if you won't—I will." Sophie's voice was practically vibrating with excitement.

I laughed despite myself. "I told him I'd think about it, but I don't know, Soph. It feels weird. Like, why would he want to help me out? What's in it for him?" I rolled over, burying my face in the pillow. "What if he's just another guy trying to take advantage of a girl who's... well, vulnerable?"

Sophie was quiet for a beat before she spoke. "Emma, not every guy is Jake. Maybe he genuinely wants to help. I mean, who doesn't want to stick it to their ex? Maybe he also wants to stick it to his ex—who knows."

"Yeah, maybe..." I mumbled, but doubt still gnawed at me. The last thing I needed was another Jake in my life—someone who pretended to care but had ulterior motives. The idea of trusting someone random, even for a fake relationship, twisted my stomach into knots.

"So, when are you seeing him next?" Sophie asked, her voice eager for more gossip.

I glanced at my phone, checking the time. "He's supposed to pick me up in, like... ten minutes."

"Ten minutes?! Em, what are you still doing on the phone with me?!"

I shrugged, even though she couldn't see me. "I don't think he's actually going to show. He was probably just messing with me."

Sophie huffed. "You don't give guys enough credit. He'll show. And when he does, you better call me afterward. I want all the details."

"Fine, fine," I said, smiling. "Hey, are you still coming over for movie night later? Or are you going to see your favorite rule-breaker again?"

"Movie night's on. But I'll tell you about that rule-breaker later. You're deflecting. Don't think I didn't notice."

Before I could reply, a knock sounded at the door. My heart jumped into my throat. I glanced at the clock. 1:00 PM on the dot.

"Gotta go, Soph. He's here," I whispered, nerves prickling through me.

"I told you so!" Sophie sang over the line as I quickly hung up. I tossed my phone onto the bed and walked slowly to the door. For a brief moment, I hesitated. What was I doing? Was I really going to go through with this? Fake a relationship just to get back at Jake? But then I thought of that stupid i********: post and the smug look on his face. With a deep breath, I opened the door.

Liam stood there, looking effortlessly casual in jeans and a fitted black t-shirt that showed off his arms a little too well. His hair was tousled, like he either rolled out of bed or spent way too much time making it look that way. He smiled.

"You ready?" he asked, his tone light, like this wasn't the weirdest arrangement ever.

"Uh, yeah," I nodded, grabbing my jacket from the hook by the door. "Let's go."

We walked down the stairs of the apartment building and out into the bustling streets of New York. The city was alive with its usual rhythm—cars honking, people rushing by, and the distant sound of a street performer's music filling the air. A crisp breeze fluttered through the trees, carrying the scent of autumn leaves.

"So..." Liam said, "about this plan." For someone who had offered to fake-date me, he was surprisingly calm.

I frowned. "I haven't even agreed to the plan yet."

He smirked, that infuriating knowing look crossing his face. "You haven't said no either."

I opened my mouth to argue, but he had a point. I hadn't said no. But I hadn't exactly said yes, either. Something about him—his confidence, his certainty—made me feel like I was walking into something unpredictable.

We reached the park, and I took in the peaceful sight. Central Park was a quiet slice of serenity in the chaos of the city. The trees had started turning golden, their leaves casting dappled shadows on the path. The air was crisp, filled with the scent of fall and the faint aroma of hot dogs from a nearby vendor. Kids were running around, couples picnicked on the grass, and a gentle breeze rustled through the trees.

"So," Liam said after a few moments of silence, "tell me about yourself."

"Why?" I gave him a sidelong glance.

"Because if we're going to pull this off, we need to make it convincing. And I can't do that if I don't know anything about you."

His sincerity caught me off guard. Maybe this wasn't just a game to him, or maybe he was just really good at faking it.

I sighed, deciding to play along. "Fine. Emma Collins, 25, freelance graphic designer. I work from home for multiple companies, but my real dream is to be a full-time artist. I grew up here in New York with my mom and younger sister. My dad left when I was fifteen, got remarried, and then died a few years later. I don't have any pets, and my favorite color is green."

Liam listened quietly, his face thoughtful.

"Okay, your turn," I said, curious now.

He nodded. "Liam Harper, 27. Both my parents died in a car crash last year. I have one older sister—she's a handful. I also grew up here in New York. I spend most of my time at the café because... well, it's the one place where I feel like I belong. Oh, and I can cook. My favorite color is red, and I have a puppy named Princess."

I snorted. "Princess?"

"Yeah," he grinned. "She acts like one, so it fits. I spoil her way too much unfortunately."

I couldn't help but laugh at the mental image of him doting on a spoiled little dog. But then, the mention of his parents sunk in. "I'm sorry about your parents."

"Sorry about your dad," he replied gently.

We shared a brief smile, the weight of our losses understood but not dwelled upon. We walked in silence for a bit, the noise of the city fading into the background as we wandered deeper into the park. The beauty of the trees, the peacefulness of the lake, the soft rustling of the leaves—it gave me a moment to think.

Why was I even considering this plan? It felt ridiculous—immature, even—but the idea of Jake, and all the pain he'd caused, came rushing back like a wave I couldn't stop. The betrayal still stung, sharper than I liked to admit. There were days when I thought I had moved on, when I convinced myself that I was over him. But then something small, something trivial—a memory, a song, a stray photo on i********:—would hit me like a punch to the gut, and I'd be back to square one. Back to the anger. Back to the hurt.

Jake had walked away from it all so easily, like I was a chapter in his life that he'd skimmed through and then tossed aside. I'd spent months picking up the pieces of myself while he waltzed into a new relationship, building the life I thought we were going to have. It was infuriating.

He hadn't just betrayed me—he had erased me.

And now he was living out his happily-ever-after while I was left with the shattered remains of what used to be my future.

The more I thought about it, the more I realized that the only way I'd ever truly feel like I'd moved on was if Jake saw me happy—truly happy—without him. Even if it wasn't real. I needed him to know that I wasn't just the girl he could cheat on and forget. Maybe it was petty, maybe it was selfish, but the hurt still felt so raw. And if this fake relationship with Liam could make Jake feel even a fraction of the pain I had endured, maybe that would be enough to finally heal.

But then, as I thought about it more, I realized it wasn't just about Jake. It was about me, too. I wanted to believe I could move on—that I could be happy without needing Jake's validation. But deep down, I knew I was still clinging to that part of me that wanted justice, that wanted some kind of closure. Maybe this fake relationship wasn't the healthiest way to get that, but at this point, I was too tired of hurting to care. I wanted to feel in control again, even if it was just for show.

And then there was Liam. Why was he so willing to help? What did he have to gain from this? There was something about him that I couldn't quite figure out—a vulnerability hidden beneath that confident exterior. He'd been hurt too. That much was clear. Maybe that's why this plan felt so strangely appealing. We were both broken in our own ways, both nursing wounds that hadn't fully healed.

This is what I wanted to do in the beginning, and I'm not going to back down from it.

Without turning to Liam, I said, "I'll do it."

Liam stopped in his tracks and faced me, surprise flickering in his eyes. "Really?"

I nodded. "Yeah. I'm tired of feeling like this. Tired of cheaters getting away with everything. I know it's selfish, but I just want Jake to understand what he put me through."

Liam's expression softened. "I understand."

The way he said it made me pause. There was definitely something deeper to his reasons for this arrangement, but I wasn't ready to pry. Not yet.

"So, fake girlfriend," Liam said, pulling out his phone, "how about we take our first photo together?"

I blinked at him, then smiled. "Sure, why not?"

We stood side by side in the park, and took a selfie. When he showed me the picture, I had to admit, we looked convincing—too convincing.

"If we're doing this, I'm going to need your number," I said, holding out my hand.

Liam handed me his phone with a grin. "Smooth, Em. Very smooth."

I rolled my eyes but couldn't help laughing as I entered my number into his contacts. "There are going to be rules, though. If we're faking a relationship, we need boundaries."

"Of course," Liam said with a mock-serious expression. "Whatever you say, boss."

As we headed back toward my apartment, I couldn't stop thinking about the arrangement I had just agreed to. This was going to be far more complicated than I'd anticipated.