Page 55 of Merry Fake Bride

Draining my cup of tea that’s rapidly turned lukewarm, I gaze back up at the dark sky and close my eyes, focusing on the chill caressing my cheeks.

There has to be a catch. Men aren’t that generous without getting something out of it, and I’m not sure I believe his speech about his father. There must be something else going on.

Rising from my chair when the cold gets too much to bear, I head back inside and close the patio doors softly behind me.

Bed is calling, and the house is quiet enough that I should fall asleep within seconds if I’m lucky.

A shot of brandy from the study is tempting, though, to warm my soul and ease me off to sleep, but as I slip my cup into the dishwasher, my gut tightens.

I haven’t drunk to help me sleep since the first month away from Axel.

That in itself has to be a sign that this deal with Kairo is not the way to go. Bad habits are calling and I refuse to go back to that.

Despite my assurances to myself, I end up in front of the study where a lamp glows in the far corner.

Next to it is my father who stands over the drinks trolley, wiping his eyes with the back of his wrist while holding an empty glass.

“Dad?”

He flinches at my voice and raises his head, then quickly looks away, but not before I glimpse the tears shining in the corners of his eyes.

My heart starts to race while my stomach tightens as if the tea I’ve just savored has turned to cement.

“Dad, are you alright?” Seeing him cry makes my own throat close up briefly, even as he waves me away and sets his glass down.

“I’m fine. I thought you’d gone to bed.”

“I was out on the patio. I thought you and Mom went to bed hours ago.”

“I couldn’t sleep.” He gruffly clears his throat.

Papers are strewn about his desk with several of them bearing red ink warnings that make my stomach tighten further as I approach.

“What’s this? Dad, what’s wrong?”

“Nothing. Go to bed.”

“Don’t tell me it’s nothing.”

Approaching him, I reach out, but he dodges my touch and moves back to his desk.

“Devon, it’s not anything I want you to worry about.”

“Mom and you keep saying that, but it doesn’t stop me from worrying,” I snap softly as he sits in a creaky leather chair older than both of us combined. “You can tell me when there’s a problem. I might be able to help.”

Our eyes meet and his lips part, but I point at him before he can speak. “And if you dare tell me you don’t want me to worry because of what happened in the past, then we’re going to have a problem.”

He smiles, but it doesn’t reach his eyes and his mustache trembles as he speaks. “It’s just a little trouble with the insurance.”

“What?” I surge for the desk, pulling my scarf off as I try to study the documents on the desk. “You haven’t been trying to put me on your insurance, have you? Because I told you my bills were taken care of.”

Having dodged their previous questions when I came back from the hospital, I hoped they would accept my excuses, but it seems my parents are too worried about me to let it go. “I never said anything at the time, but Kairo paid for my hospital bills.” I glance down at my cast and flex my pale fingers. “Out of guilt.”

“Kairo Sycamore?” Dad’s gaze darkens and he grumbles to himself. “He’ll charge you back for that in a few years, just you wait.”

“Maybe. But they’re paid so you don’t need to mess around with your insurance to…” I trail off as I pick up one of the letters.

It’s not my name on the information but both of my parents’.