Lahat ng Kabanata ng The Vows We Fake : Kabanata 41 - Kabanata 50

I couldn’t send Zane the email. My finger didn’t move. Because a part of me didn’t want to tell Zane like this. And another part was afraid of what he would think of me. Perhaps he would assume that I was reaching, or worse, crazy. So I deleted the draft, closed the laptop and sat in silence, watching the cursor blink in an empty document. No matter how much I wanted him to know, I needed to be the one to say it. To see his face, to explain everything, to answer his questions. To give him a reason to trust me again. And, with the tension and distrust between us, I was terrified he’d never give me the chance. ## The room felt like a tomb: silent, polished, and too pristine. I’d arrived early, spread out notes for the meeting with surgical precision, and repeated Leah’s pep talk like a mantra: Stay focused. Don’t rise to it. Be steel, not flame. But steel didn’t shiver. Steel didn’t have a heartbeat that pounded every time the doorknob turned. And when it finally opened, I nearly ju

Sera opened her mouth to protest but caught the look on Zane’s face. She huffed, then left without a word. He waited until the door shut. Then he finally spoke. His voice was low. “You are slipping.” “It was a mistake…” “A mistake that cost us millions in potential sponsorship.” “It wasn’t intentional, Zane.” He stepped closer. His emotions were controlled, and somehow that made it worse. I would’ve preferred him to be volatile. This calmness has my uneasy. “You used to be better than this.” That... hurt. “I am better,” I shot back. “You call this better? Do you even understand what you’ve just done?” He took a deep breath, as if to calm himself. “I can’t do this now,” he muttered, brushing past me. “Fix it. Wade will oversee everything from now on.” He didn’t even wait to hear if I replied. The door slammed behind him. ## Hours later, I found him alone in his office. The door was slightly ajar, the muted light inside casting a pool of gold on the marbled hallway floor. E

“You knew,” I whispered. He nodded slowly. “I did.” My chest ached. “For how long?” His expression remained unreadable. “For a while.” My heart dropped. “How long is ‘a while,’ Zane?” He didn’t answer. I stood up abruptly. “You’ve been going along with it. With her. Playing the dutiful fiancé while she walks around carrying Julian’s child? And you didn’t say anything?” Zane leaned back in his chair, crossed his arms over his chest, exhaling like he’d been holding his breath for days. “What would’ve been the point, Amara? Telling you would’ve only made things worse.” “No,” I said, my voice cracking. “Lying made things worse. I thought you didn’t know. I thought you were being played and trapped. But you weren’t. You’re choosing this. You’re choosing her. You’re still going to marry her knowing the baby isn’t yours?” A shadow passed over his face. “It’s complicated, Amara.” “No. No, it’s not,” I said, my voice rising. “She lied to you. Manipulated you. Built this entire illusi

We lapsed into silence again. I stared out the window at the blur of trees and fields, trying not to let the warmth of the sunlight or the quiet rhythm of the drive lull me into forgetting how complicated everything still was. “You’ve been quiet,” he said after a while. “I’ve had a lot on my mind.” “Wanna talk about it?” I turned to face him. “You want to talk?” He smirked. “I can be deep.” “Zane, you once called guacamole ‘green mush’ and refused to eat it because it looked too healthy.” “That’s not depth-related. That’s common sense.” I couldn’t help it the laughter that came out of my throat. It was a real and unexpected one. Zane grinned, and for a moment, it felt like we weren’t two people stitched together by broken promises. He leaned back in his seat. “I love that sound.” “What sound?” “You laughing. Not the fake kind you give at press events or when someone makes a dry joke to fill awkward air. I mean your laugh. This one. It’s beautiful.” I swallowed,

The rain soaked through my blouse, clinging to my skin like memory itself. Zane was in front of me, silent, eyes dark and unreadable as thunder rolled overhead. But all I could think about was another storm, one from years ago. We had skipped class that day. First year of uni. He’d dared me to race him across the quad just as the sky cracked open. We were breathless, soaked, laughing like we had the world on a string. I remembered the way my hair stuck to my cheeks, how he brushed it back with fingers that trembled ever so slightly. “You’re beautiful when you’re reckless,” he’d whispered. And then Zane had kissed me. It wasn’t soft or hesitant. It was like he’d been waiting for the sky to split open to give him permission. His mouth tasted like rain and adrenaline and something dangerous and unspoken. It had been my first kiss. A beautiful and magical one. I didn’t know much about kissing, but it felt natural with him. As if our lips were made to be molded together. Standing here