Total pages in book: 35
Estimated words: 33290 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 166(@200wpm)___ 133(@250wpm)___ 111(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 33290 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 166(@200wpm)___ 133(@250wpm)___ 111(@300wpm)
“Goodnight, Gianna,” he said quietly, reaching over to turn off the lamp.
“Goodnight.”
The darkness felt heavy and charged with possibility. I lay there listening to his breathing slow and even out, counting the inches between us and wondering how I was going to survive months of this exquisite torture.
This was what I’d agreed to. This was the price of keeping Luca safe and Colby’s family intact. But as I finally drifted toward sleep, with my husband’s wedding ring on my finger and his child calling me family, I couldn’t shake the feeling that I was in far deeper than either of us had planned.
CHAPTER 5
Colby
The elementary school parking lot buzzed with controlled chaos. Parents juggled car seats and diaper bags while older kids raced toward the playground, their voices carrying across the crisp October evening. I sat in my truck for a moment, watching other families through the windshield and trying to calm the nerves that had been building all week.
Tonight, would be our first public appearance as a married couple. The whole town would see us together, and I knew gossip would start before we even made it through the front doors. But more importantly, Lyla would be here. She’d made a point of telling me during yesterday’s tense phone call that she wouldn’t miss Luca’s art showcase, especially now that he had a “new family situation” to navigate.
“Dad, can we go in now?” Luca bounced in his booster seat, practically vibrating with excitement. “I want to show Mom my painting before everyone else sees it.”
Mom. The word still caught me off guard every time he said it, even though it had been a week since the wedding. Gianna had slipped into the role so naturally that sometimes I forgot this was supposed to be temporary. She made pancakes without burning them, helped with homework without losing patience, and tucked Luca in each night with stories that made him giggle.
She also shared my bed without complaint, careful to stay on her side while I lay awake listening to her breathe and fighting the urge to reach for her.
“Dad?”
“Yeah, buddy. Let’s go find your mom.”
Gianna stood near the school’s main entrance, talking to Summer Redman and looking effortlessly beautiful in a burgundy sweater and dark jeans. Her hair caught the light from the parking lot lamps, and she wore the small diamond earrings I’d given her as a wedding gift. She’d protested that she didn’t need anything, but I’d wanted her to have something real from this arrangement, something she could keep when it was over.
The thought made my chest tight.
“There she is,” Luca said, waving enthusiastically.
Gianna’s face lit up when she saw us approaching. She hugged Luca first, listening intently as he chattered about his artwork and which projects he wanted to show her. Then she turned to me with that careful smile she’d perfected over the past week, the one that looked genuine but never quite reached her eyes.
“Hey,” she said softly.
“Hey yourself.” I brushed a quick kiss against her cheek, the gesture feeling both natural and foreign. “You look beautiful.”
Pink colored her cheeks. “Thank you.”
“Are we being convincing?” I murmured near her ear, low enough that only she could hear.
“I think so.” Her voice was barely a whisper. “Summer asked if we were still in the honeymoon phase.”
Before I could respond, Luca grabbed both our hands and started pulling us toward the school. “Come on! Mrs. Patterson said the art show starts at six, and it’s already five after.”
Student artwork decorated the hallways, and families filled the space, admiring the displays. Luca led us straight to his section, where a watercolor painting of our house hung prominently on the wall. He’d painted it from memory, complete with the big oak tree in the front yard and the flowers in the window boxes that Gianna had insisted I needed long before she moved in.
“It’s us,” he explained proudly, pointing to three stick figures standing in the front yard. “That’s Dad, that’s me, and that’s Mom. We’re a family.”
My throat tightened. In his six-year-old world, this was simple truth. We lived together, we took care of each other, we were happy. He didn’t understand the complicated web of legal documents and pretense that had brought us to this point.
“It’s perfect, sweetheart,” Gianna said, her voice thick with emotion. “I love how you painted the flowers.”
“Those are the ones you planted. The purple ones that smell good.”
“Lavender,” she confirmed, reaching out to smooth his hair. “You have a wonderful memory.”
We spent the next hour moving through the displays, admiring artwork and chatting with other parents. I kept one arm around Gianna’s waist, partly for show and partly because I couldn’t seem to help myself. She felt right against my side, like she belonged there.
“Colby?”
I turned at the sound of my name and felt every muscle in my body tense. Lyla stood behind us, perfectly polished as always in a designer dress and heels that clicked against the linoleum floor. Her blonde hair fell in a sleek bob, and her blue eyes held the calculating look I remembered from our worst fights.