Page 120 of Make-Believe Match

Veronica looked at me like I was nuts. “What? Why wouldn’t she?”

I remembered that Veronica didn’t know the marriage was only one of convenience. “I spend a lot of time guarding my feelings around her,” I said carefully.

“Okay, but youproposedafter knowing her for less than three weeks.” Veronica laughed. “Not all that guarded if you ask me. And she’s head over heels in love with you.”

Hearing the words, even if Lexi hadn’t been the one to say them, hit me like a bowling ball in the gut. “You think so?”

“Yes! She flat out told me it was magic from the night you met. What’s more magical than love?”

“She said that?”

“Yes.”

I wondered if it was something Lexi had made up, or something she honestly felt. I wished I could ask her.

When everyone went into the living room for the traditional game of Pictionary, I claimed I had a bad headache and went up to my room. My siblings never would have let me get away with that if they hadn’t felt so bad for me. Or maybe they knew I wouldn’t be much fun, so they didn’t care if I was around anyway.

Upstairs in my room, I lay on the bed and stared at my phone, dying to call my wife. To hear her voice. To make her laugh. To tell her I felt it too, whatever the magic was between us. To tell her I loved her. Wanted her. Needed her in my life.

But I couldn’t make myself do it. Spilling out my feelings like that just wasn’t me. Maybe if I let them alone for a little bit, they’d evaporate instead of erupt.

I booked a plane ticket to L.A. for the following morning.

* * *

My dad was the in the kitchen when I came down just after dawn.

“You’re up early,” he said, pouring coffee from the pot into a mug. “Want a cup?”

“I don’t have a lot of time, actually.”

He glanced at my bag and lifted his coffee to his lips. “Going home already?”

“Flying to California, actually. I got a job offer out there.”

“That’s a ways away.”

“Yeah.” I hitched my bag up higher on my shoulder and looked out the kitchen window into the yard. “That tree,” I said, shaking my head at the site of the massive oak from which I’d tumbled. “Every time I see it, my arm hurts.”

My dad chuckled. “That was quite a fall.”

“I never should have climbed that thing.”

“Oh, I don’t know. I think you had to.” He sipped his coffee.

“Dad, I broke my arm in two places.”

“I know, but you faced a fear. And then your brothers took care of you.”

“They did?” My memories after I’d hit the ground were hazy.

“Sure. I wasn’t home at the time, but the way they told it, Xander hauled you to your feet and got you to the car, and Austin drove you to the hospital. And they stayed with you, even after I got there.” He took another sip. “It’s what family does—they stay with you.”

I swallowed. “I have to go.”

“Goodbye, son.” He opened his arms and gave me a hug. “Hope you find whatever it is you’re looking for.”

* * *