Happy dad, happy us

Aaron’s POV:

Marshal: “Oh son, you can just call me father-in-law.”

He beamed at me like I’d just handed him a winning lottery ticket. I half expected him to be furious seeing me crashed on his expensive couch, but nope—he looked damn pleased.

Me: “Oh… uh, Father-in-law. Good morning.”

Marshal: “That’s right! Good morning, son. How are you?”

Me: “I’m… I’m good, sir. Uh—”

Marshal: “Since you’re here, I assume you and my daughter are already getting to know each other better?”

That huge smile again. God, this guy really wanted to believe we were some fairytale couple.

I wanted to tell him the truth—that his daughter got drunk at a club and I was forced to play babysitter. That she was the reason I spent half my high school years being miserable. That I was only here because his brilliant idea of forcing us together left me no damn choice.

But instead, I took a deep breath and forced a smile.

Me: “Yes… uhm… we went on a date last night. She had a little too much champagne—uh, I did too—so I brought her home. I honestly don’t even remember falling asleep here.”

I hoped my stammering didn’t make it obvious I was lying through my teeth. But with how Marshal’s grin widened, I figured I must’ve said exactly what he wanted to hear.

Marshal: “Oh, very gentlemanly of you. My daughter’s always had a thing for alcohol. Hopefully, now that you’ll be together, she’ll start cutting back.”

Yeah. Good luck with that.

Marshal: “So tell me, how was the date? What do you think of Nessa?”

I froze for half a second. Was he serious?

Everything I wanted to say—the years of torment, the smug smirks, the way her voice still grated on my nerves—was right on the tip of my tongue.

But I couldn’t say any of that.

I took another breath, plastered on another fake smile, and lied through my damn teeth.

Me: “She’s… she’s really a beautiful young lady. Uhm, I don’t know if you know this, but we actually knew each other back in high school. We were… close. So, uh, it wasn’t hard to connect on the date. She’s funny, smart… sharp-tongued, but I find it kind of cute. The whole night was really great, we just… talked about everything and anything.”

I forced myself to look up, expecting skepticism. Instead, Marshal’s face practically glowed.

And that’s when the devil herself walked in.

Nessa: “You know, I didn’t realize you thought so highly of me and our ‘date.’”

That tone. That smirk. I almost rolled my eyes, but I caught myself.

I turned to her—fresh out of the shower, wrapped in a white robe, smelling like vanilla. It was almost too innocent, especially knowing the menace underneath.

Marshal: “My baby girl!”

Nessa: “My pops!”

The two of them hugged like a scene straight out of a cheesy family sitcom. It was so sickeningly sweet, I almost gagged.

How the hell did this man raise her?

Marshal: “So, sweetheart, Aaron was just telling me how great your date was! What do you think?”

Nessa shot me a quick glare before her expression flipped into a sugary-sweet smile.

Nessa: “Oh, Pops, it was amazing! We had so much fun. You know, back in high school, we were the best of friends.”

My jaw clenched. Best of friends my ass.

Nessa: “He was such a bookworm—always getting bullied, poor thing. And guess what? I was his princess in shining white gown. I always saved him whenever those mean bullies tried to pick on him. He used to run behind me like a scaredy-cat, and I’d be there to save the day! Isn’t that right, nerd? Oh—sorry, I mean Aaron?”

She batted her eyelashes at me. Smiling like she wasn’t completely full of shit.

Two could play that game.

Me: “Of course! You know, I never understood why I was bullied so much. I was just a young, small kid trying to keep his scholarship, studying hard. But for some reason, certain people made my life a living hell every single day.”

I stared at her. She stared back.

The tension stretched until—

Nessa: “Right? Bullies are just so crazy.”

Marshal cleared his throat, clearly oblivious to the war happening between us.

Marshal: “I can see you two go way back and agree on so much! This is wonderful. See, Nessa? I told you my matchmaking skills were perfect. Look at you, smiling from ear to ear now, huh?”

Nessa let out the fakest laugh I’d ever heard.

Nessa: “That’s right, Pops. It’s like a match made in heaven, isn’t it, Aaron?”

She grinned at me.

I fought every instinct to roll my eyes.

Me: “It sure is, Nessa.”

Marshal: “You know what? This calls for a celebration. Aaron, why don’t you freshen up? There are guest rooms upstairs, and you can borrow some clothes from my wardrobe. Then, we’ll all have breakfast together.”

Oh great. More quality time with Nessa.

Nessa: “Come on, Aaron.”

She grabbed my wrist, yanking me upstairs. The second we were out of her dad’s sight, she dropped my hand, wiping her robe like she’d touched something filthy.

Nessa: “Ew. Lord. How long do I have to put up with this?”

I rolled my eyes and followed silently as she led me to a guest room. It was ridiculously luxurious—like a damn five-star hotel suite.

Nessa: “Are you gonna go in or just stand there gawking?”

I walked in, still taking it in.

Nessa: “You played your cards right today, nerd. Keep it up, and this will be over before we know it. He already likes you, so this should be easy.”

Me: “Cool.”

Nessa: “At breakfast, we’re madly in love. Obsessed with each other. Got it?”

Pretend to be in love with the one person I despise? Easy.

Me: “Sure, Nessa.”

She smirked. That smirk.

Nessa: “We’ll see.”

And with that, she walked off.

I slumped onto the bed. One day and a half with Nessa, and I could already feel my brain cells dying. And this was supposed to last a year?

Lord help me.