All Chapters of What We Pretended To Be : Chapter 121 - Chapter 130

Maria: By the time I got to Lily’s apartment the next morning my coffee had gone lukewarm. I still brought hers upstairs anyway. She opened the door wearing an oversized sweatshirt and mismatched socks, her hair twisted into a bun that looked like she’d done it halfway through a breakdown and then lost interest. Her face wasn’t swollen from crying anymore. Just tired. There was something strangely stripped down about her, like all the usual polish had burned off overnight. Neither of us spoke for a second. Then I held up the coffee. “You look frightening,” I said. She took the cup from me slowly. “Good morning to you too.” “You’re welcome.” That got the smallest twitch at the corner of her mouth, which was honestly more encouraging than if she’d burst into tears again. I followed her inside. Lily’s apartment was spotless in the aggressively controlled way it always was — everything arranged perfectly, pillows aligned, counters clean enough to perform surgery on. But the cracks

Maria: Two weeks passed quietly. Not empty, not uneventful. Just settled. The kind of settled I used to think only existed for other people — people with uncomplicated lives and emotionally functional relationships and refrigerators covered in vacation magnets. Meanwhile, I had accidentally married a billionaire under contractual circumstances and somehow ended up happy about it. Life was strange. Good. But strange. Most mornings now started the same way. Daniel was already awake before me because apparently, sleep was optional to him, standing in the kitchen in dark trousers and a white shirt that probably cost more than my first apartment rent while reading financial reports like they personally offended him. Coffee already made, my mug already waiting beside his because somewhere along the way he’d memorized exactly how I took it without either of us acknowledging when that happened. It wasn’t dramatic anymore. That was the thing. The love confession on the yacht had changed ever

Maria: “Yes,” I said. Daniel still had a dish towel in his hand when I answered him. He’d been drying the same wine glass for so long that the entire thing had started to feel suspiciously performative. He looked over at me from the kitchen sink, calm as ever, but something was waiting underneath it, quietly waiting—very Daniel. “Yeah?” he asked. I nodded once. “Yeah. I think it’s time.” The smallest shift crossed his face. Barely there. Most people would have missed it. I wouldn’t have. Not anymore. He turned back toward the counter, setting the glass down carefully. “I didn’t want to ask too early.” “You mean you didn’t want me thinking you were trying to relocate me like one of your business acquisitions.” “That happened one time.” I laughed and walked farther into the kitchen. “You built an entire house because I said the farm felt peaceful.” “You liked the reading nook.” “I did like the reading nook.” “And the horse.” That made me smile immediately. His mo

Maria: The first thing I noticed was how exhausted I was. Not the usual kind of tired that came with moving into a new house, running a clinic, and planning a shelter. This felt different. It sat deep in me, stubborn and heavy, as my body had quietly decided it was done cooperating. At first, I ignored it. Then I blamed the move to the farm, then the unpacking, then Daniel. That last one wasn’t remotely fair, but I was running out of suspects. Three days after we moved into the farmhouse, I found myself standing in front of the refrigerator staring at a carton of eggs. The sight of them made my stomach twist, which was ridiculous because the day before, I’d wanted eggs badly enough to consider making them twice. I closed the refrigerator, opened it again, looked at the eggs, and closed it. “You’re losing an argument with breakfast.” I glanced over my shoulder. Daniel stood in the doorway with a mug of coffee in one hand, hair still damp from his shower, sleeves rolled neatly to hi

Lily:The worst thing about hope is how sneaky it is. You can spend months shoving it into a corner, convincing yourself you’ve made peace with reality, and then it strolls back in like it owns the place.I’d spent three months preparing for every possible version of Marcus’s answer.If he wanted friendship, I could do friendship.If he needed distance, I’d survive that too.If he decided there was nothing left between us, I’d figure out how to keep moving.None of those plans survived the moment he smiled at me across Maria’s picnic table.Three months of emotional self-improvement collapsed in an instant. It was honestly embarrassing.Around us, the picnic carried on at full volume. People laughed. Someone dropped a plate. Maria’s mother and Victoria had somehow launched into a serious discussion about baby names despite the fact that Maria had barely announced her pregnancy.Charles had appointed himself honorary grandfather before anyone could stop him.Daniel looked increasingly