To Close To Pretend 

Jace didn’t look away.

River’s words settled in the space between them like an unspoken history, sharp and heavy. The restaurant noise faded around them. Jace had never been good at reading people, but even he could tell River hadn’t just said that to sound dramatic. He meant it.

“Then why are you still here?” Jace asked softly.

River sat back, the candlelight catching the faint scar on his jaw. “Because someone’s trying to hurt you. And I want to know why.”

Jace studied him. There was no false charm, no empty flattery. River was too real, too blunt and maybe that was why the world already believed the lie. It was easier to think Jace Maddox had fallen for a man like River Hale than to believe he could ever be truly alone.

Their plates sat untouched.

Outside, the photo ops had already been taken, Jace walking in with River’s hand on his lower back, a brief glance exchanged as they entered the private dining room. Sasha had probably already approved the captions.

Jace reached for his glass of water. “You’ve worked security before?”

River gave a small nod. “Private contracts, mostly low-risk.”

“And before that?”

River’s gaze darkened slightly. “Army. Six years.”

“What happened?”

“Wrong mission. Wrong people. Wrong choices.” He picked up his fork but didn’t eat. “Got me discharged. Officially, it was dishonor. Unofficially, it was a cover-up.”

Jace was quiet for a moment. “You lost someone.”

River stiffened, just slightly. “Yeah.”

There was a pause before Jace spoke again. “A teammate?”

River’s jaw tensed. “More than that.”

“I’m sorry,” Jace said, and for once, he meant it without hesitation.

River gave a small nod. “You don’t strike me as the sentimental type.”

“I’m not. I just… understand what it means to lose someone and still feel the echo of it.”

River leaned forward a little. “You don’t sleep well, do you?”

Jace blinked. “What makes you say that?”

“You flinch when doors open. You check your reflection twice before you walk into a room. And your eyes have that look.”

“What look?”

“The one people get when they don’t trust the ground beneath them.”

Jace’s throat felt tight. He didn’t know why he asked. He hated personal conversations. But something about River made him curious. Made him want to understand.

He cleared his throat. “I wasn’t always like this either.”

River looked up. “Like what?”

“Distant, obsessive, controlled.”

“You seem like a guy who’s been that way all his life.”

Jace almost smiled. “It got worse after my father died.”

River leaned a little. “Suicide, right?”

“That’s what they said.”

“You don’t believe it?”

Jace shook his head. “He was careful. Smart, cold, maybe, but not weak. He left no note, no warning. One day he was gone, and the next day, I was CEO.”

“You think someone killed him.”

“I know someone did. I just can’t prove it. Yet.”

River didn’t respond for a long time. Then he asked, “You think it’s connected to what’s happening now?”

“I think someone’s playing a long game. First my father. Now me.”

River exhaled slowly. “You think it’s Crane?”

“Could be. But if it is, he’s playing it too clean. Nothing obvious. Just pressure. Media hits. Quiet buyouts. And now this, someone breaking into my home like it was a joke.”

River tapped his fingers against the table. “Then we find out who benefits if you break. Who’s waiting to take your place if you fall.”

A waiter walked past their table. Jace straightened his posture, putting his calm, controlled mask back on. 

When the dinner was over, they stood side by side as Sasha’s car pulled up. Jace glanced toward the flashing lights. Reporters were shouting, cameras were rolling. The lie they had agreed on was alive and breathing.

River opened the car door for him. Jace paused before getting in.

“You don’t have to act when no one’s watching.”

River gave a small smirk. “I’m not doing it for the cameras.”

That silenced him.

They rode back in silence. River sat stiffly, arms crossed, eyes on the road ahead. Jace kept stealing glances, wondering how this man, who seemed built from scar tissue and anger, had become the face of his fake romance.

Back at the penthouse, Sasha was already waiting inside.

“That was beautiful,” she said, scrolling through headlines. “People are eating it up. The stoic billionaire and his guarded protector. It’s romantic, tragic, and mysterious. You’re gold right now.”

Jace took off his coat and tossed it on the couch. “Let’s just hope it works long enough to keep Crane quiet.”

River leaned on the wall, arms folded. “And if it doesn’t?”

“Then I lose the company.”

Sasha looked up sharply. “That won’t happen. Not if we stay ahead. But we need consistency, more appearances. A story. You two should stay in the same room now. Not just for the press but for your safety.”

River raised an eyebrow. “What?”

Jace didn’t flinch. “Fine.”

River let out a forced laugh. “You want me to move into your room?”

“Unless you’d rather I move into yours.”

Sasha clapped her hands. “Perfect. Tomorrow, we’ll leak a photo of the shared space. Just something subtle. Maybe Jace in a hoodie for once.”

“Absolutely not,” Jace said.

“Fine. A robe, something soft.”

River was trying not to laugh. Jace hated that he noticed.

Later that night, Jace sat on the edge of the bed while River dropped his bag on the floor. The bedroom was massive, quiet and minimal, just how Jace liked it. There was plenty of space. Still, the air felt tight.

“You can take the left side,” Jace offered.

River kicked off his boots. “You don’t have to pretend to be polite now.”

“I’m not pretending.”

River pulled off his shirt, exposing scars that looked old but violent. Jace tried not to stare. He didn’t ask. River didn’t offer.

“Do they all ask?” Jace asked suddenly.

River looked over. “Ask what?”

“About the scars. About what you’ve been through.”

“Most people just stare. Then pretend they didn’t. You’re the first person who asked like you actually gave a damn.”

“I don’t know what I give a damn about,” Jace muttered.

“That’s the problem with people like you,” River said. “You feel everything, but you pretend like you don’t.”

They both got into bed, fully clothed, backs to each other and the silence stretched.

Then River’s voice cut through the dark.

“You said someone’s playing a long game.”

Jace’s eyes stayed on the ceiling. “Yes.”

“Then we need to figure out who.”

“I’m trying.”

River paused. “Let me help.”

Jace turned his head slightly. “Why?”

River’s voice was low. “Because if you fall, I fall with you.”