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What a fool I’ve been.
I press my stomach as anger roils in my gut.
I could’ve been the perfect fake fiancée, so why did West have to go and mess with my emotions?
I was happy to go along with his plan, but he should never have played with my heart.
I’m sick to death of people using me.
Chapter 21
West
Iwake up to an empty bed, the sheets cold where Amelia should be. Frowning, I pull on a pair of sweatpants and make my way to the kitchen.
Amelia stands at the counter, her back to me. She’s wearing one of my shirts, the hem barely covering her thighs. Her hair’s a mess, and she’s gripping a mug of coffee like it’s a lifeline.
“Morning, Princess,” I say, keeping my voice light.
She jumps, nearly spilling her coffee. “West! I didn’t hear you.”
“Didn’t mean to startle you.” I move to the fridge, pulling out eggs and bacon. “How about some breakfast?”
“You’re going to cook?”
“I can cook. I want to cook for you.”
She nods, not meeting my eyes. “Sure, thanks.”
As I fry the bacon, I watch her from the corner of my eye. She’s quiet, withdrawn. Not at all like the vibrant woman who danced with me last night, laughing at my jokes and charming everyone she met.
It all felt so real, even though my brother’s convinced it’s just an act.
“Are you okay?” I ask, sliding a plate in front of her.
“Fine,” she mumbles, pushing the food around with her fork.
I sit across from her, studying her face. “Is it the wedding plans? Because we can slow things down if—”
“It’s not that,” she cuts me off, then bites her lip. “I’m just...tired.”
But I know better. Something’s wrong, and it’s not only wedding jitters. I reach across the table, taking her hand in mine. “Amelia, talk to me. What’s going on?”
She looks up, her eyes meeting mine for the first time this morning. There’s fear there, and something else I can’t quite place.
“West, I...” she starts, then stops, shaking her head. “It’s nothing. Really.”
I squeeze her hand, feeling the tremor that runs through her. “It’s not nothing. Not if it’s got you this upset.”
“I'm fine,” she says, still not meeting my eyes. “Listen, I need to meet up with Carly later. Girl stuff, you know, and I hardly spoke to her last night.”
I frown, sensing something’s off. “Everything alright? You seem... different this morning.”
Amelia shrugs, her shoulders tense. “Just tired, I guess. Last night was a lot.”
“I thought you enjoyed yourself,” I say, trying to read her expression. “You looked like you were having fun.”
For a moment, something flashes in her eyes. Hurt? Anger? But it’s gone so quickly I can’t be sure.