“Fine. Go ahead and play your heartbreak anthems.”
“Damn right I will,” I replied, my fingers dancing over the screen as I queued up a dramatic song about betrayal and lost love. We fell into silence for a moment, the music wrapping around us like a comforting blanket.
Then, I broke the quiet, my voice soft. “Do you think they’ll believe us?”
Roman didn’t respond immediately. After a brief pause, he said, “I think if we’re not careful… we might start believing it ourselves.”
Our eyes met, a silent understanding passing between us, before we both burst into laughter.
“You almost had me there,” I giggled, enjoying the moment.
We had been driving for two hours now, and conversation flowed effortlessly, as it always did with Roman-familiar, easy, filled with sharp wit and long, comfortable silences that never felt strained.
“You sure you want to do this?” I asked as we passed the ‘Welcome to New Hope’ sign. “There’s still time to turn around. We could fake a car fire, or I could say I got food poisoning. Or I could just claim I had a pregnancy scare.”
“I canceled a sexy vacation for this,” he said, determination lacing his tone. “I’m not half-assing it, Sav.”
“Right. Because this is just one big performance,” I teased, but his serious expression made me falter.
He didn’t answer immediately, just gave me that unreadable look again-the one that made me feel seen in ways I wasn’t quite prepared for.
“This isn’t just a performance, Sav,” he said at last, his voice steady. “It’s the start of a battle.”
I nodded, adrenaline coursing through me. “They won’t know what hit them.”
But as we crossed into New Hope, a wave of anxiety washed over me. My stomach twisted in knots, and the group chat on my phone buzzed incessantly.
I gazed out the window, my heart sinking as familiar sights flooded my memory-places and faces I thought I had left behind.
The houses morphed into memories, each one a reminder of the past I had tried so hard to forget.
By the time Roman turned into the gravel driveway of my childhood home, my palms were slick with sweat.
Could I really pull this off for an entire week?
“Sav? You okay?” he asked, concern lacing his voice as he reached over to place his hand on my thigh, grounding me.
I managed a smile, though it felt shaky. “Of course. Just got lost in the music for a moment.”
We both turned to face the house, my expression clouded with uncertainty, while Roman’s was filled with surprise.
“Sav, are you sure we’re at the right house?” he questioned, his brow furrowing.
I swallowed hard. “Yes.”
The Hart family home stood majestically at the end of a winding, tree-lined driveway, a timeless structure of stone, ivy creeping along its edges like whispers of long-forgotten secrets.
Two tall brick chimneys crowned the sharply gabled roof, hinting at roaring fires that warmed the silk-draped drawing rooms within. The tall, amber-lit windows glowed like honey at dusk, spilling golden light across the manicured hedges that flanked the front entrance, creating a soft arch that cradled the wooden double doors. The wraparound porch, adorned with wrought-iron lanterns and polished oak railings, beckoned me with nostalgia.
And to the left, a blooming cherry tree stood proudly, its pink petals contrasting against the stone like a blush that refused to fade, no matter how many winters came and went.
“Your house is much bigger than I ever imagined,” Roman remarked, his eyes wide with surprise.
“I forgot to mention that my dad is a retired federal judge,” I replied, nervously running my sweaty palms over my black joggers.
“You left out the part where you should have warned me that the Harts live in a fortress,” he teased, though there was a hint of awe in his voice.
Still, Roman navigated the gravel driveway with an air of confidence, as if he owned the place.
The welcoming committee was already gathered at the front entrance, waiting for us with expectant smiles.
My mom, my older sister Alyssa, a few aunts, my cousin Lizzie from Florida, and my little niece Chloe, dressed in head-to-toe white.
And worst of all-Dean fucking Archer.
“Here we go,” I murmured under my breath, the words barely escaping my lips as a mix of excitement and dread churned in my stomach.
Roman turned off the engine, the car falling silent, and then he faced me, his eyes filled with an intensity that made my heart race. “You ready?” he asked, his voice steady but laced with an undercurrent of concern.
“No,” I replied, my voice barely above a whisper.
He reached across the seat, his hand enveloping mine with a warmth that felt like a lifeline. It was tight, grounding, and in that moment, I felt a flicker of reassurance. “You’re not alone,” he said softly, his gaze unwavering.
With a deft motion, he slipped something onto my finger, and I stared down in disbelief. An engagement ring. A magnificent engagement ring, adorned with a massive blue stone that sparkled even in the dim light of the car.
I glanced up at him, and there it was-the familiar, cocky grin that made my heart flutter. “You forgot that crucial part of the story,” he teased, his confidence radiating.
I was momentarily entranced by the beauty of the ring, which felt cold against my warm skin. “Holy shit. Where’d you get this?” I exclaimed, my voice a mix of shock and awe as I frantically scanned the car for a box, but found none.
“Doesn’t matter,” he replied, his tone shifting to seriousness. “What’s important is we nail this and get back to Philly as soon as possible. Understood?”
My throat tightened, a lump forming as I nodded once, the weight of the moment sinking in.
–
We stepped out together, the cool air hitting my face as I tried to shake off the lingering shock of the ring. Roman moved to my side, placing a reassuring hand on my back, guiding me forward with the confidence of someone who had done this a thousand times before. His sunglasses were perched atop his head, and his trademark smirk was firmly in place.
As we approached the gathering, a collective gasp filled the air, followed by a chorus of excited voices.
Alyssa squealed, “God, he’s hot!”
Lizzy chimed in, “He looks like a young Brendan Fraser!”
New Book: Back Home to Marry Off Myself
Loredana’s father left the family for his mistress, leaving them to fend for themselves abroad. When life was at its toughest, her father showed up with “good news” after 8 years of absence: To marry off Loredana to a paralyzed son of the wealthy Mendelsohn family.