All Chapters of The Vows We Fake : Chapter 31 - Chapter 40

I sat alone on the far end of the banquet wing’s service hallway, my back pressed against the cold wall, knees drawn to my chest. My badge hung limp from my neck. The whispers now had teeth. Every eye that caught mine was filled with suspicion. Someone said I was trying to “climb” Zane by stealing. Another claimed she always “knew something was off” about me. Leah had tried to comfort me, but even she looked shaken. “You should go home, dear,” she’d said gently, placing a soft hand on my shoulder. I had only shaken my head. “If I leave now, it’ll look like I’m guilty.” I finally decided that it’s best I leave on my own terms after writing the resignation letter. Now, if only I could muster up the strength to write it. I heard footsteps, steady and confident, approaching from the elevator. I didn’t bother lifting my head. “Amara Ibe?” a deep male voice said. I looked up to see a suited hotel concierge holding out a sealed envelope. “This was dropped off at the front desk for ‘E

I turned my face away, gently. I couldn’t kiss him. I just couldn’t. Not when he was engaged to someone else. He didn’t step back. Instead, his forehead pressed against mine. We stayed like that, breathing the same frostbitten air. My heart was breaking open in his silence. “I’ll take you home,” he whispered against my lips. “It’s late.” I didn’t answer. But when he pulled away from me and headed toward his car, I followed. The car hummed softly beneath us, the distant city lights flickering through the tinted windows. We sat in silence. Zane didn’t say much since we left the venue. Neither had I. We both stared forward like we were bracing for a storm neither of us could name. We sat in the backseat, separated by only a breath of space. His jacket grazed my arm every time the car turned. The nearness was maddening. I couldn’t focus on anything else. The fact that his thigh was so close I could feel the heat radiating through his tailored pants made my brain buzz. I was physica

The smell of something warm and buttery drifted into the guest room before I even opened my eyes. For a moment, I forgot where I was: soft sheets, unfamiliar silence, and the scent of something other than my apartment's stale solitude. And then it all rushed back in: the cold argument outside, his fingers on my cheek, the near kisses that hovered like ghosts on my lips. I pushed the covers back slowly and sat up, his shirt brushing my thighs. I closed my eyes for a second, inhaling the scent of his shirt like a masochist. Padding into the hallway, I hesitated before entering the living room. His apartment was bathed in warm morning light, all glass and rich textures. Neutral tones, chrome edges, and a ridiculous number of art pieces that screamed money and masculine taste. It was minimalist, but not sterile like I'd expected. And then I saw him. Zane stood in the open-plan kitchen, shirtless again, his dark pajama pants riding low on his hips. He was barefoot, moving around li

The evening had sunk into a quiet hush. I was seated in the sunroom, the warmth of the fading sun mixing with the soft amber glow of the lamps. The day had been surprisingly peaceful, almost a reprieve from the chaos of the past few days. Zane sat beside me, his presence oddly comforting even as a knot of questions twisted in my stomach. I was just starting to relax and my eyelids were growing heavy, when the sudden knock at the door shattered the calm. My heart jumped, pulse quickening. I got up immediately and rushed to hide. Zane’s body tensed. He stood slowly and moved to the door, his face unreadable but tight around the eyes. I watched him, curiosity prickling at the back of my mind. He opened the door, and in stepped a man I instantly recognized—Julian. Zane’s cousin from the photo I had stumbled across earlier. The man who Sera was always messaging and talking to via phone. Julian looked older now, his casual confidence wrapped in an easy grin that didn’t quite reach his e

The delivery was supposed to be simple. A quick errand to the wellness clinic just a few blocks away, which was a luxury maternity center partnering with some of our vendors. It wasn’t in my original plan for the day, but Leah had double-booked a meeting, and Sera had been too busy fuming about some missing champagne flutes to go herself. So I volunteered to go. I needed the air, anyways. Stepping into the plush, pale-blue waiting room of Eterna Bloom, the scent of lavender hit me first. It was soft, calming, too gentle for the storm brewing in my chest since I left Zane’s apartment. The walls were lined with paintings of expectant mothers in flowing dresses, cradling their bellies beneath trees and moonlight. It was peaceful. Beautiful, even. I hated that I couldn’t enjoy it. “Hi,” I said, approaching the front desk. “I’m here for a pickup. On behalf of Voss-Blackwood Wedding.” The receptionist, a young woman with a high bun and a shiny name tag that read “Becca,” beamed a