Marrying My Fake Boyfriend

*****

Brad heard the banging on his door, but he ignored it. He simply poured himself another drink. This would be his fifth, and it was only just starting to dull his senses. Maybe if he drank another five more he would be able to pass out.

He couldn’t believe he had been taken for a fool. Cherrelle had sounded so genuine, so desperate to get rid of Colney. And in reality, they were plotting to run off together when they tired of toying with him.

Perhaps this was how the rich got their kicks, tormenting the poorer classes. Brad wouldn’t have put Cherrelle in that category before, but now he had no choice. She was slotted in with Colney and the rest of the sh*ts who thought money meant more than anything.

His door banged again and a voice he recognized floated through.

“Brad? Brad, it’s Cherrelle. I know you’re there. Open the door, please.”

Cherrelle was here? Brad growled. “Go away.”

He wasn’t going to open the door and have Cherrelle manipulate him again. Once bitten, twice shy. He had seen money kill his mother; no way would he let it control him.

“Brad, open the door.”

“And then what?” Brad snapped, stalking towards the door and glaring at it. “You’ll explain why you played me and then ran off with Colney when you got bored?”

“If I’ve run off with him, then why am I here?”

“I don’t know. Torment me again?” Brad turned away in disgust and reached for his glass. “Go away and leave me alone.”

He heard Cherrelle sigh. “He was outside my apartment tonight…”

“I don’t want to hear about your reunion.”

Brad poured another drink. But Cherrelle’s next words stopped him from putting the glass to his lips. “He had pictures of you and Serena together. He said you two had been having an affair.”

Brad wasn’t sure he had heard correctly. He put the glass down. “What?”

“I have the pictures right here if you don’t believe me.”

Brad could feel his emotions warring against each other. He shouldn’t go and look. He really shouldn’t. It was just a ploy to open the door and let her in. But he found himself putting his glass down and going back to the door. He opened it and found Cherrelle on the other side. Her eyes were red, but there were no tears. She was pale and looked ill. Brad’s heart went out to her. She looked heartbroken.

She held out the envelope, and Brad practically snatched it and took out the pictures. He rifled through them.

“These were taken tonight. Serena was telling me that you were running off to the Caribbean with Colney and was attempting to console me,” he grunted. “I must say he’s a good photographer, that private eye, if he can capture the moment where it looks anything but innocent.”

“We were both played,” Cherrelle said quietly. Brad looked up and saw that Cherrelle was leaning on the door frame. She looked exhausted. “They wanted us to split. They wanted you to think I’d finally chosen Jason and for me to think you were having s*x with Serena.”

Brad could see it in her face. While she was upset she had believed him the whole way.

“You knew I wouldn’t have s*x with Serena,” he said quietly. “Because she’s practically jail bait.”

“And she and Jason are scum of the highest order.” Cherrelle pointed to the pictures. “That’s why I believed you and not the pictures. I believed you hadn’t cheated on me.”

Now Brad felt awful. Cherrelle had had full confidence in him, and yet he hadn’t given her the same consideration. He really was a terrible partner. He closed his eyes and sighed dejectedly.

“And I believed you had,” he said morosely. “I should’ve trusted you more.”

“You should’ve called me.”

“I didn’t want the embarrassment.” Brad opened his eyes and looked pleadingly at Cherrelle. “I’m sorry, Cherrelle.”

He dropped the pictures and opened his arms. Cherrelle ran straight into them and she hugged him tightly, pressing her face into his chest as she took heavy breaths.

“I’m sorry, too,” she whispered. “I should’ve made sure those two were out of our lives earlier.”

“We can’t change that now.” Brad stroked her hair. Then he gulped. “But do you still want to marry me? There’s no need to go through with a fake marriage if Jason knows he’s not getting you anymore, is there?”

There was silence for a moment. Then Cherrelle eased back a little so she could look up at him. Her eyes were now shining with unshed tears.

“What do you think?” she asked quietly. “I mean really.”

Brad knew what he was thinking. He brushed his fingers across her cheek.

“I don’t want it to be fake,” he whispered. “I want it to be real.”

Cherrelle smiled and tears fell. “So do I.”

With his heart pounding, Brad crushed her to him and kissed her hard.

Sagging onto the bed, he rolled to the side and gathered Cherrelle into his arms, urging her head to rest against his shoulder.