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I nod, trying to ignore the flutter in my stomach as our eyes meet. I take a slow breath, pushing those thoughts away. We're here to work. I tear my gaze from hers.
We have a plan to execute, a fake marriage to sell to the media, and the last thing we need is to let our emotions get in the way.
"So, what's the next step?" Marissa asks, her voice snapping me out of my reverie.
"First, we need to come up with a backstory. Something believable, but not too detailed. We don't want to get caught in a web of lies."
"And then what? How do we convince the media that we're actually married?"
"Simple. We just need to act like a married couple. Hold hands, exchange glances, maybe even steal a kiss or two."
She blanches at the suggestion. It's so comical that I can't deter the laugh that escapes my lips. She looks like I just suggested that we go into a park full of zombies.
"Are you serious? We can't just go around kissing each other!"
Reaching out, I gently squeeze her hand. "Relax. I was just kidding. But we do need to be convincing if we want this to work."
And by being convincing, I mean that we have to do what happily married couples do. Live together. I stall for a moment, wondering how to broach the subject of her moving in with me.
It's a big ask, I know, but if we're going to make this look real, we'll need to be staying under the same roof. I can't have the paparazzi keeping an eye on us, waiting for me to make a mistake.
"Well, I was thinking that you could move into my apartment," I suggest, trying to keep my tone casual even though I'm reeling on the inside. "You know, to make it look more believable."
Marissa chokes, and her eyes water as she attempts to calm down. I reach out to touch her, but she signals to me that she's okay. I feel bad for asking this of her, but it has to be done.
"Move in with you? I live right next door."
I bob my head in a nod, hoping that she'll see reason. "Yeah, I mean, it's not like we'll be spending all our time together, but it'll help sell the whole 'married couple' thing. What do you say?"
She pauses, chewing on her bottom lip and obviously thinking this whole thing through. She gnaws on her bottom lip. My stomach knots itself into a tangled mess of nerves.
Come on, Marissa. Say yes. Please.
I resist the urge to beg aloud. My nails dig into my palms as I clench my fists, bracing for her refusal. She inhales slowly. I hold my breath.
"I don't know. It's a big step, and I'm not sure if I'm ready for that."
I nod, feeling a pang of disappointment at her response. "I understand that it's a lot to ask, but I promise I'll make it worth your while. Come on, how boring can living with me be?"
"It’s not about that."
"Then what?"
She looks like she's about to say something but thinks better of it and sighs, her expression conflicted as she looks at me. "Okay, fine. I'll do it. But just until we can figure out a way to undo all of this."
"That works. I'm super grateful for all your help."
I don't deserve Marissa, but here she is, standing by my side and ready to face whatever challenges lie ahead. And for that, I'll always be thankful.
***
As I lounge on my couch, the soft glow of the television casting flickering shadows across the room, my phone buzzes with an incoming call. With a sigh, I reach over to grab it, glancing at the screen to see Ellen’s name flashing back at me.
Yeah, she’s definitely seen my announcement.
"Hey, Ellen," I say, trying to keep the weariness out of my voice. "What’s up?"
There’s a second of silence on the other end of the line, and then Ellen’s voice comes through, filled with excitement. "Bryce, I just wanted to say how impressed I am with what you did today. It’sreally going to help improve your image, especially with all those rumors swirling around."