MY POOR FAKE HUSBAND

THE WEIGHT OF SECRETS

CHAPTER 3: THE WEIGHT OF SECRETS

Sleep refused to come.

I spent the entire night staring at the cracked ceiling of my tiny apartment in Queens, listening to the occasional rumble of the subway in the distance. The mattress beneath me was thin enough that every time I shifted, the springs complained louder than my own thoughts.

Twenty-one days.

The number echoed through my mind with every passing hour.

Twenty-one days to find a woman who loved Damon Cole.

Twenty-one days to return to a boardroom where my future would be decided.

Twenty-one days before Vincent James could claim everything my grandfather had spent a lifetime building.

But none of those thoughts weighed on me as heavily as another number.

Twelve thousand dollars.

To me, it was almost meaningless.

To Elena Carter, it was the difference between hope and heartbreak.

I sat up and rubbed both hands across my face.

"No," I whispered into the empty room. "You can't fix this with money."

That was exactly the lesson Grandpa had been trying to teach me.

If the first answer that came to my mind was writing a check, then I still hadn't understood his final wish.

I had to become someone worthy of leading the James family—not because I was rich, but because I knew how to care about people without letting money solve every problem.

The alarm rang at six.

I dressed in faded jeans, pulled on my mechanic's boots, and walked the three blocks to Joe's Auto Repair.

The morning air carried the smell of fresh bread from a nearby bakery.

People hurried to work carrying coffee cups and backpacks.

No one looked twice at me.

For the first time in years, I wasn't "Roman James."

I was simply another man trying to earn his paycheck.

Strangely, I liked that.

When I reached the garage, Joe was already unlocking the front door.

"Morning, Damon."

"Morning."

Joe looked at me for a second.

"You look tired."

"Didn't sleep much."

He nodded as though he understood.

"Happens to everyone."

There was something comforting about that answer.

No questions.

No judgment.

Just acceptance.

Within an hour the garage was alive with the familiar sounds of impact wrenches, engines, and classic rock playing from an old radio balanced on a shelf.

Tony walked over carrying two paper cups.

"Caffeine?"

I accepted one.

"Thanks."

He leaned against the toolbox beside me.

"So..."

I laughed.

"So?"

"You gonna tell me what's really going on?"

I pretended to focus on replacing a brake pad.

"I don't know what you mean."

Tony rolled his eyes.

"Damon, I've worked with guys my whole life."

He pointed his coffee toward me.

"You've tightened the same bolt four times."

I looked down.

He wasn't wrong.

Tony smiled.

"It's the hospital girl."

I couldn't help smiling.

"Her name is Elena."

"I know."

He took another sip.

"You like her."

The words settled over me more heavily than I expected.

Did I?

I'd only known Elena for a few days.

Yet somehow she had become the first person I thought about every morning.

The first person I wanted to text after work.

The first person whose smile mattered.

That realization frightened me.

Because Damon Cole could fall in love.

Roman James wasn't allowed to.

Not while he was living a lie.

Before I could answer, Joe's voice echoed through the garage.

"Damon!"

"Yeah?"

"Front office."

I walked in expecting another customer.

Instead, Joe handed me a small white envelope.

"What's this?"

"Overtime."

I frowned.

"I didn't work overtime."

"You stayed late cleaning the shop yesterday."

"I volunteered."

Joe shrugged.

"You still worked."

I opened the envelope.

Inside were a few folded bills.

It wasn't much.

But it was the first money I'd ever earned with grease on my hands instead of signatures on contracts.

I smiled without realizing it.

Joe noticed.

"Feels different, doesn't it?"

I nodded.

"It really does."

That afternoon, just before lunch, my phone vibrated.

One new message.

Elena:

Hey, Mechanic... are you working today?

I wiped the grease from my fingers before picking up my phone.

A small smile crept across my face before I could stop it.

Elena: Hey, Mechanic... are you working today?

For a full minute, I stared at the message.

It was ridiculous.

I had negotiated billion-dollar contracts without my pulse changing, yet a single text from Elena Carter had me thinking about the perfect reply.

Tony glanced over from the next service bay.

"You gonna marry your phone, or answer it?"

I laughed quietly and shook my head.

"Mind your business."

He grinned.

"I'll take that as a yes."

I finally typed back.

Me: Yeah. Joe would probably fire me if I wasn't.

The three little dots appeared almost instantly.

Elena: Good. I wanted to bring lunch. Unless you're busy.

Lunch.

She wanted to spend time with me.

I looked around the garage. Joe was arguing with a supplier on the phone while Tony and Luis wrestled with a stubborn pickup truck.

Me: Lunch sounds perfect.

A few seconds later another message appeared.

Elena: See you at noon.

I slipped my phone back into my pocket.

For the first time since my grandfather's funeral, something felt... normal.

Not because my problems had disappeared.

But because someone was looking forward to seeing me.

---

By noon the garage had quieted down.

Joe waved me away with a greasy hand.

"Take your break, Damon."

I walked outside just as a familiar white Toyota rolled into the parking lot.

Elena stepped out carrying a brown paper bag.

Today she wore jeans, white sneakers, and a light blue sweater.

Her hair was tied into a loose ponytail that danced in the breeze.

She looked tired.

But she smiled the moment she saw me.

"I brought sandwiches."

"You really didn't have to."

"I know."

She handed me one of the bags.

"But I wanted to."

We crossed the street to a small neighborhood park.

The benches were old, and the paint had started to peel, but children laughed on the swings while an elderly couple fed pigeons nearby.

It wasn't luxurious.

It was peaceful.

We sat beneath a large maple tree.

For a few minutes we simply ate.

No awkward silence.

No pressure.

Just two people sharing lunch.

Elena broke the silence first.

"So..."

"So?"

"I passed by the garage yesterday after work."

"You did?"

She nodded.

"You looked happy."

I laughed.

"I was covered in grease."

"You were smiling."

That surprised me.

"I guess I was."

She folded the wrapper from her sandwich.

"You like working there."

"I do."

"Even though Joe yells every ten minutes?"

"He yells because he cares."

She smiled knowingly.

"You sound like my mom."

The smile faded from her face almost as quickly as it had appeared.

"I miss her."

The words were barely louder than a whisper.

I looked down at my hands.

"I know what that's like."

She glanced toward me.

"You never talk about your family."

I hesitated.

Every conversation with Elena felt like walking across thin ice.

One wrong answer...

One careless detail...

And Damon Cole would disappear forever.

"My parents died when I was young," I said quietly.

"Grandfather raised me."

That part, at least, was true.

"He must have been special."

"He was."

"What was he like?"

I smiled without realizing it.

"Strict."

She laughed.

"I guessed that."

"But fair."

I looked toward the children playing nearby.

"He believed a person's character mattered more than anything they owned."

Elena tilted her head.

"He sounds wise."

"He was."

I didn't mention that he had also built one of the largest business empires in America.

Some truths had to wait.

---

The afternoon sun drifted behind a layer of clouds.

A cool breeze swept through the park.

Elena looked down at the untouched half of her sandwich.

"My hospital called again this morning."

My stomach tightened.

"What happened?"

"They're giving me a little more time."

Relief washed over me.

"Really?"

She nodded.

"I have one week to come up with the deposit."

One week.

Not enough.

But better than two days.

"I picked up extra shifts."

"You'll wear yourself out."

She gave a tired smile.

"I don't have a choice."

I wanted to tell her she did.

I wanted to tell her I'd spend every dollar I had if it meant seeing her smile again.

Instead, I remembered Grandpa's words.

A James man marries for love... not for power.

Money wasn't supposed to become the answer to every problem.

Sometimes people needed support more than they needed saving.

"You know," I said carefully, "it's okay to let people help."

She looked at me.

"I've always been the one helping everyone else."

"That doesn't mean you have to carry everything alone."

For a long moment she didn't speak.

Then, quietly, she asked,

"Would you really be there if things got worse?"

The question caught me off guard.

Not because I didn't know the answer.

Because I did.

Without hesitation.

"Yes."

She searched my face, as though trying to decide whether to believe me.

Finally she smiled.

"A lot of people make promises."

"I don't."

"I hope you're telling the truth."

"So do I."

Those last words slipped out before I could stop them.

Because I wasn't talking about helping her.

I was talking about the lie I was living.

---

As they walked back toward the garage, Elena suddenly stopped outside a small bookstore.

A display window was filled with old novels.

She stared at them for several seconds.

"You like reading?" I asked.

"I love it."

She smiled shyly.

"When life gets difficult, books remind me that difficult chapters don't last forever."

The sentence settled deep inside me.

Difficult chapters don't last forever.

Maybe Grandpa had known that.

Maybe this entire thirty-day challenge was only one chapter of my life.

Not the whole story.

"I used to read a lot," I admitted.

"What happened?"

"I got busy."

She looked at me with a gentle smile.

"Maybe you should start again."

Before I could answer, my phone vibrated.

One message.

Marco:

Boss... call me as soon as you can. It's important.

A cold feeling settled in my chest.

Marco never called me "Boss" unless something was wrong.

I slipped the phone back into my pocket before Elena could notice the message.

"You okay?" she asked.

I forced a smile.

"Yeah."

But deep inside...

I knew something had changed.

I waited until Elena drove away before taking my phone out of my pocket.

Marco had called three times.

That wasn't like him.

He knew the rules. Unless the world was falling apart, he never contacted me during working hours.

I stepped behind the garage where the sound of passing traffic drowned out the noise from the shop.

The call connected after the first ring.

"Boss."

His voice was lower than usual.

"Marco, what happened?"

"I've got good news and bad news."

"I'll take the bad news first."

"The board has scheduled another meeting."

I leaned against the brick wall.

"I expected that."

"They're getting nervous. Investors are asking questions. Vincent has been charming everyone. He's acting like he's already the next chairman."

I closed my eyes for a moment.

"How many days?"

"Nineteen."

The number landed like a weight on my shoulders.

Nineteen days.

It didn't feel like enough time anymore.

"And the good news?" I asked.

Marco hesitated.

"I managed to slow Vincent down. He wanted an early vote, but the lawyers reminded him of your grandfather's final instructions. He can't touch the company until the deadline expires."

I let out a slow breath.

"So we still have time."

"For now."

His voice changed again.

"There is something else."

My grip tightened around the phone.

"What?"

"Someone has been asking questions about Damon Cole."

Every muscle in my body tensed.

"What kind of questions?"

"They visited the apartment building."

My heart skipped.

"They asked the landlord when you moved in."

I remained silent.

"They also stopped by Joe's Auto Repair."

"Did Joe tell them anything?"

"No. He said you were just another hardworking mechanic."

I smiled despite myself.

Good old Joe.

"But?"

Marco knew me too well.

"There wasn't just one visitor."

"What do you mean?"

"There were two."

The smile disappeared.

"One claimed to be from a credit agency."

"And the other?"

Marco took a deep breath.

"The other never gave a name."

The call fell silent.

"Boss..."

"I'm listening."

"I think Vincent has hired private investigators."

I looked toward the front of the garage.

Tony was laughing at something Joe had said.

Luis was wiping his hands with an old shop towel.

Everything looked normal.

But suddenly...

Nothing felt normal anymore.

"If they find me..."

Marco finished the sentence for me.

"The whole plan falls apart."

"I know."

"Be careful."

"I will."

After hanging up, I slipped the phone into my pocket and stood there for another minute.

Grandpa's challenge was no longer my only problem.

Now I had to protect Damon Cole.

---

The rest of the afternoon passed more slowly than usual.

I caught myself looking toward the street every few minutes.

Every unfamiliar car made me wonder if someone was watching.

Every customer who asked too many questions made me suspicious.

Maybe Marco was right.

Or maybe I was simply becoming paranoid.

"Damon!"

Joe's voice snapped me back to reality.

"You're daydreaming again."

"Sorry."

He tossed me a rag.

"Clean up. We're closing early today."

I nodded and got to work.

As I rolled the toolbox back into place, my phone buzzed again.

This time it was Elena.

Elena: Are you free after work?

I smiled.

Me: Depends.

Three dots appeared.

Elena: I'd like you to meet someone.

---

Mercy General Hospital was quieter than I expected.

The evening sun poured through the large windows, filling the lobby with warm golden light.

Families sat together in waiting areas.

Nurses hurried through the hallways.

Children laughed somewhere down the corridor.

Elena met me near the reception desk.

She looked exhausted.

But when she saw me, she smiled.

"You came."

"I said I would."

She looked at me for a second before quietly saying,

"Thank you."

"For what?"

"You keep showing up."

Nobody had ever thanked Roman James simply for being present.

It felt... nice.

She led me upstairs.

Room 417.

She knocked softly before opening the door.

A teenage boy looked up from a video game console.

"Malik," Elena said.

"This is Damon."

Malik grinned.

"So you're the mechanic."

"I guess I am."

He looked me up and down.

"You look taller than I imagined."

I laughed.

"I'll take that as a compliment."

"It is."

For the next hour we talked about basketball, old cars, video games, and superhero movies.

Malik had an easy smile.

Despite everything he was going through, he still found reasons to laugh.

I admired that.

When visiting hours ended, Malik hugged his sister.

Then, to my surprise, he hugged me too.

"Thanks for keeping her company."

I looked at Elena.

She quickly looked away.

Outside the hospital, the evening air felt cool.

We walked toward the parking lot in comfortable silence.

Finally Elena spoke.

"You know..."

"What?"

"I haven't seen Malik laugh like that in weeks."

"I'm glad."

"No."

She stopped walking.

"I'm grateful."

The streetlights flickered on one by one.

She looked directly into my eyes.

"Damon..."

"I know we're still getting to know each other."

I nodded.

"But when life feels heavy..."

She smiled softly.

"...you're becoming my favorite part of the day."

For a second...

The entire world seemed to stop.

I wanted to tell her everything.

My real name.

Who I really was.

Why I couldn't stay Damon forever.

Instead...

I simply smiled.

"So are you."

She looked down, trying to hide her smile.

"I should go."

"I'll walk you to your car."

When she drove away, I stood in the parking lot watching her taillights disappear into the traffic.

For the first time since leaving my old life behind...

I wasn't thinking about the inheritance.

I was thinking about Elena.

---

By the time I reached my apartment, it was almost ten o'clock.

The hallway was quiet.

Too quiet.

As I climbed the stairs, I noticed something unusual.

My apartment door...

wasn't completely closed.

I froze.

I was certain I had locked it that morning.

Slowly, I pushed the door open.

Nothing looked damaged.

Nothing appeared to be missing.

The small room was exactly as I had left it.

Until my eyes landed on the kitchen table.

There was a single white envelope.

No stamp.

No address.

Only two handwritten words.

For Damon.

My heartbeat quickened.

I opened it.

Inside was a plain sheet of paper.

Just one sentence.

"Some secrets don't stay buried forever."

I looked toward the apartment window.

Across the street...

a black sedan pulled away from the curb and disappeared into the night.

End of Chapter 3.