Two Hearts

How Long Can I Keep Pretending?

Daniel's POV

Everything had turned upside down.

Laura thought I had been criticizing her because she wasn't comfortable enough around me. That wasn't what I had meant at all. I had only wanted to encourage her.

Why did women have to make everything so complicated? Then again, maybe I wasn't exactly the easiest person to understand either.

My grandmother had crossed every imaginable boundary once again, and at several points I had seriously considered throwing her out of my house.

Not that it would have worked.

Liza was the kind of woman who would probably thank me for the fresh air and walk right back inside.

And somehow, in the middle of all that chaos, I had told Laura something I had never told anyone. Not my father. Not a friend.

No one.

And now, sitting alone in my office, staring at reports I hadn't actually read for the last twenty minutes, I had no idea what to do with any of it.

Because the worst part wasn't my grandmother. Or the awkward conversation in the car. Or even the fact that Laura was still upset with me.

The worst part was that I finally had to admit something I had been avoiding for weeks. Something everyone else seemed to see except Laura and me. Or maybe we both saw it.

Maybe neither of us was brave enough to admit it. That possibility was even worse.

Because the truth was simple - I liked Laura.

Not as the mother of Markus and Ellia. Not as my fake wife. Not as the woman who had somehow transformed my cold, silent house into a home.

I liked her as a woman.

The way she carried both strength and vulnerability at the same time. The way she argued with me. The way she challenged every decision I made. The way she laughed. The way she rolled her eyes whenever she thought I was being ridiculous.

Which, according to her, was often.

But my favorite moments were the rare ones when she forgot to be guarded. When she relaxed. When she was simply herself - Calm. Free. Happy.

Without realizing it, my thoughts drifted back to the beach house.

Just the two of us - The ocean. The fireplace. The late-night conversations.

And for the first time, I admitted something else. I think that was when it happened.

Not the photoshoot. Not moving into the same room. Not waking up with her in my arms.

The beach house.

That was where she quietly slipped past every wall I had built around myself. And I hadn't even noticed.

The realization should have terrified me. Instead, it made me smile.

Only for a second.

Then reality returned. Because admitting it to myself was one thing. Admitting it out loud? That was an entirely different problem.

And honestly?

I wasn't sure I was ready for either.

Days passed faster than I expected. In fact, I barely noticed them passing at all.

Every morning started the same way. Breakfast together. The children arguing over something ridiculous. Laura pretending she wasn't exhausted. Me pretending I wasn't watching her.

And somehow, despite all the chaos, it felt natural. Comfortable.

Dangerously comfortable.

Every day Laura looked more stunning in those new outfits. The funny thing was that I didn't think she even realized it herself.

She carried herself differently now. A little more confidently. A little less guarded.

Not because of the clothes.

Because she was finally beginning to see herself the way everyone else did.

Liza, of course, never missed an opportunity to comment on something. Sometimes it was Laura's appearance. Sometimes my work schedule. Sometimes our parenting. Sometimes our entire existence.

At this point, we had simply learned to ignore most of it.

And surprisingly, we had become a pretty good team. More smiles. More touches. More laughter. Less tension. Less pretending.

At least on the surface.

Whenever one of us got cornered by Liza's questions, the other immediately stepped in. Without discussion. Without planning.

We simply knew.

It was becoming a habit. One that I liked far more than I should have.

Some evenings Grandmother joined us for dinner. Other evenings she disappeared to one social event or another. Those nights were always our favorites.

Not that we'd ever admit it out loud.

But everyone in the house relaxed when Liza wasn't around. Even the children. Especially the children.

So far we'd managed to avoid any major disasters. No impossible questions. No awkward demands. No situations we couldn't talk our way out of.

At least not yet.

And knowing my grandmother, that only made me more nervous. Because when Liza was quiet, it usually meant she was planning something.

And that was always worse.

Friday evening arrived before I realized it. We had survived almost an entire week.

Almost.

Though there were still several weeks ahead of us. And experience had taught me one thing: If Grandmother wasn't causing trouble today, it didn't mean trouble wasn't coming.

It simply meant she hadn't chosen her battlefield yet.

Dinner that evening was incredible. As usual. Laura had somehow managed to outdo herself again. The house smelled amazing. The table looked perfect.

And for a brief moment, everything felt normal.

Father joined us as well. Though if anyone expected him to help manage his mother, they were going to be disappointed. The man feared her more than he was willing to admit.

Which I found endlessly amusing. How could a fully grown man be afraid of his mother?

Then again...

One look from Liza could silence an entire boardroom. So perhaps I shouldn't judge him too harshly.

We were all seated around the table when disaster arrived disguised as a harmless question.

"Daniel, dear," Grandmother began sweetly.

That alone should have been a warning sign.

"What are your plans for the weekend?"

There it was. The trap. I knew that tone. Whatever answer we gave, she intended to involve herself in it. Before I could respond, Ellia excitedly spoke up.

"We could go to the beach house!"

I nearly choked.

For a moment, I genuinely considered crawling under the table and staying there. The suggestion was innocent. Of course it was. The children loved the beach house. Laura loved it.

Truthfully, I'd even considered taking everyone there for the weekend just to escape this entire situation.

But now?

Now the subject had been brought up in front of the one person who absolutely could not know anything about it.

"Beach house?” Grandmother looked directly at me. "By the sea?"

"Nothing special," I answered quickly.

Which was probably the least convincing response possible. Beside me, I felt Laura go completely still. She understood the danger immediately.

I glanced toward Father for help. He appeared deeply fascinated by a piece of broccoli.

Traitor.

"It's beautiful there," Markus added helpfully.

God help me.

"We collected seashells," he continued. "And had races on the beach."

"Yes!" Ellia agreed enthusiastically. "And there was this really cute little restaurant where we had breakfast.” She smiled dreamily.

"And the fireplace was amazing."

Each sentence felt like another shovel of dirt being thrown onto my grave.

"What beach house?" Grandmother asked. Her eyes narrowed. "Why have I never heard about this?"

I opened my mouth. Closed it again. Then desperately looked toward Father.

Unfortunately, he chose that exact moment to discover a deep and passionate interest in the vegetables on his plate.

Coward.

"It has a beach," Markus added. As if things weren't already bad enough. "And a huge deck."

"And a fireplace!" Ellia chimed in. "We made hot chocolate there."

"Best weekend ever," Markus declared.

Wonderful. At this point they might as well hand Grandmother the address.

"A beach house?" Liza repeated. Her attention shifted toward Father.

Of course it did.

"Erik."

Father looked up slowly.

"What?"

"Don't play games with me."

"I have no idea what you're talking about."

"The beach house.” She pointed dramatically. "The one your son apparently owns."

Father blinked. Then shrugged.

"I know he goes there with his family." Another shrug. "That's about it."

Grandmother stared at him.

"And that doesn't concern you?"

“No." The answer came instantly. "It isn't my business."

Her eyes widened.

"You don't ask questions?"

"No."

"You don't want to know what happens there?"

“No." Father took a sip of water. Then added calmly, "That's called respecting boundaries."

For a moment, Grandmother looked genuinely offended. Which was almost impressive. Most people needed to work much harder to offend her. Apparently not Father.

Unfortunately, her brief confusion didn't last. Nothing ever stopped Liza for long. She turned back toward me.

"I want to see it."

No. Absolutely not.

"Daniel, when are you taking me there?” And there it was. The disaster I'd been expecting.

I was still searching for an excuse when Laura suddenly spoke.

“Actually..." Every head turned toward her. "The beach house has some technical issues right now."

I frowned. Technical issues? What technical issues?

Laura smiled sweetly.

"Something with the water system.” Then she looked directly at me. "Isn't that right, sweetheart?"

For a second, I had absolutely no idea what she was talking about. Then I felt her hand find mine beneath the table. A firm squeeze - Play along. Immediately, I understood.

“Ah." I nodded. "Right."

The lie arrived surprisingly easily.

"The plumbing needs repairs."

Father nearly choked on his drink. I ignored him.

"I've already spoken to a contractor.” I continued with complete confidence. "Unfortunately, they won't be able to start for a while.” I sighed dramatically.

"So there isn't any running water at the moment."

Grandmother frowned.

"That's unfortunate."

"Very."

Before she could continue, Laura jumped in again.

"And honestly, even if everything worked perfectly…" She smiled apologetically. "You wouldn't really have anywhere to stay."

That got Grandmother's attention.

"What do you mean?"

"There are only two bedrooms.” Laura's expression remained perfectly innocent. "One for Daniel and me."

My brain immediately focused on that sentence.

One for Daniel and me. Not helpful. Not helpful at all.

"The other belongs to the children.” She spread her hands. "So even if everyone wanted to go, there simply wouldn't be enough space."

For the first time all evening, Grandmother looked uncertain. Not convinced. But uncertain. And right now, that was close enough to victory.

Finally, she nodded.

"Very well."

I silently thanked every saint, guardian angel, and higher power that might be listening. The beach house had survived another day.

Unfortunately, Grandmother wasn't finished. Not even close.

"Then what are your plans for the weekend instead?"

I nearly groaned. Does she ever stop?

"No plans," I answered honestly. Because after this conversation, I definitely wasn't planning anything. "We'll stay home."

The smile that appeared on Grandmother's face immediately made me nervous. Very nervous.

“Wonderful!" The enthusiasm in Grandmother's voice immediately made me suspicious.

Very suspicious.

Whenever Liza became excited about something, someone else's life usually became significantly more complicated.

And judging by the sparkle in her eyes, that someone was about to be me.

"I have a suggestion."

There it was. The warning bell.

Father visibly winced. Apparently I wasn't the only one who recognized the danger.

"My dear friend is hosting a charity gala tomorrow evening.” Of course she was.

"Private event. Invitation only.” Even better.

"The city's elite will be there.” Perfect. Exactly where I did not want to spend my Saturday night.

"There will be a charity auction, dancing, live music, incredible food prepared by some of the country's best chefs—"

I already hated this plan.

"—and all proceeds will go to families in need."

Grandmother finished with a triumphant smile. Then she looked directly at us.

"Wouldn't that be lovely?"

No. It would not.

"I don't know…" Laura spoke first. Bless her. "And who would watch the children?"

For a moment, I thought she'd found our escape route. Unfortunately, Grandmother was faster.

"My dear.” She looked genuinely confused. "Do you mean to tell me that you and Daniel never go anywhere alone?"

Silence. Dangerous silence. I felt Laura freeze beside me. Because neither of us had expected that question.

"Surely you've attended events together before?” Grandmother continued. "Daniel is a public figure. He must attend functions all the time."

And there it was. The problem.

Because the truthful answer was: No. We hadn’t. Not once.

"I babysat occasionally.” Father suddenly joined the conversation.

Every head turned toward him. Including mine. Interesting.

"Rare occasions," I immediately added. Before Grandmother could start drawing conclusions. "I prefer spending time with my family."

Which wasn't even a lie anymore.

Not entirely.

"I've never enjoyed social events that much."

Grandmother stared at me. Long enough to make me uncomfortable. I could practically hear the gears turning inside her head.

She was analyzing every word. Every glance. Every reaction. Trying to find the weak spot. Trying to find the lie.

Then she sighed dramatically.

"That's admirable, Daniel.” The compliment sounded suspicious. "But completely unnecessary."

There it was. The criticism hidden inside the praise.

"A husband and wife should spend time together.” She pointed between Laura and me. "Outside the house. In society. Among other people."

Her expression softened.

"The entire world cannot revolve around children and household responsibilities."

Beside me, I felt Laura preparing to argue. I knew that look. The one that usually appeared two seconds before she challenged someone.

Without looking at her, I reached beneath the table and squeezed her hand. Don’t. Please. Not this time.

To my surprise, she understood immediately. The argument died before it even started. And for some reason, that small victory felt far more satisfying than it should have.

“Fine." The word left my mouth before I could change my mind.

Everyone looked at me. Including Laura.

"We'll go."

Grandmother's face lit up instantly.

"The charity gala?"

“Yes." I sighed. "We'll attend."

The smile she gave me suggested she'd just won a war. Which, considering who she was, might actually be true.

"As for the children," I continued, "we'll figure something out."

Father looked suspiciously nervous. Interesting. Very interesting.

The conversation finally moved on. Thank God.

But I could still feel Laura's gaze on me from time to time. She wasn't happy about this. Not even a little.

And honestly?

Neither was I.

Because unlike dinner at home, a public event meant something entirely different. People would watch us. Judge us. Talk about us.

We would have to act like a real couple for hours. No escape. No children. No distractions.

Just the two of us.

Together.

The thought should have terrified me. Instead, it did something much worse. It excited me.

And that was a problem. A very big problem.

Because Laura had been right. We had become a team. A surprisingly good one. And lately, every time I looked at her, I found myself wondering the same thing.

Did I really want us to remain just a team?

Or was I finally ready to admit that I wanted something more?

And if I was...

How much longer could I keep pretending otherwise?