Fakelove Novels & Stories

Their eye color was the least of my problems. “I swear I’ll step on you, girl!” “Come try, handsome!” I winked. Yes, I was testing his patience. And yes — completely on purpose. But he was asking for it. Every time the truth slammed into my head again, I exhaled sharply. Darian wasn’t my husband. Well — he wasn’t the Darian I thought he was. I might have been screaming “Darian” under him while really sleeping with some guy named Kevin. That truth alone could suffocate a person. I hadn’t just been conned financially — my body had been touched by a fraud. Even my stupid heart had been given to a Darian who didn’t exist.

"You're disgusting! Get out of my way!" He hadn't expected me to curse him out, and his face darkened instantly. Without hesitation, I shoved him aside, took Jordan's hand, and headed straight out. Livio froze, staring as we walked away. Then he exploded. "Diane Ward, this is pathetic! You really think faking a marriage will force my hand?" "Fake marriage?" I snorted. "Whatever you say." His lips pressed into a thin line. "This has gone far enough! It was just a dumb bet. Do you have to make a fool of yourself like this?"

"I've been trying to tell you. That woman is Selena Langley. She runs half the investment world. There's no way she'd waste her time sneaking around with someone like you." I thought back to our wedding night. After Kayla left, I'd cleared everyone out. Everyone except Selena, who stayed where she was and didn't move. I'd had a little to drink, and I'd assumed she was the woman Kayla had sent. She was warm and easy to talk to, so I'd ended up sending away the actual IVF coordinator too, the older woman with streaks of gray in her hair. At some point that night Selena had said something about looking for someone. I'd told her, without an ounce of shame, that I was exactly who she was looking

“A job?” “Yeah. It’s temporary. But… We need someone who can pull it off. It’s for the company. You pretend to date someone. Just a show. In and out.” Liam stared. “Fake dating? Are you joking?” Kant crossed his arms. “You’ve done worse for money.” Liam’s eyes flared with disbelief. “That was years ago; I’m not that person anymore.” Kant shrugged. “Fine, then I'll find another person; just say no.”

I rushed the last part out, too nervous to monitor my phrasing. I couldn't bring myself to meet his eyes, dreading his reaction to this insane proposition. The weighted silence stretched out until he finally cleared his throat. "I see. And what's your stance on this... unorthodox publicity moves between us?" My throat felt dry, but I forced myself to hold his intense gaze. "Truthfully? I think it's farcical and demeaning to everything we've built together. You've become an invaluable partner and friend. This whole fake relationship feels like a violation of the trust between us."

"I can see you have strength in your muscles just because you think Rafael loves you, just so you know, he is playing you and he doesn't love you," "Yeah, right, I know, I think I should be the one deciding that since I know him better than you do, you don't know my husband so don't assume, it's nothing to you if he is faking being in love with me if this is how fake life is then I want to live in it forever,"

“I thought maybe there could be something between us since your marriage was fake and— My blood ran cold. “What did you just say?” Elliot hesitated, realizing he’d misspoken. “Estella, I—” “Fake?” I barked out a laugh. “You think that makes this okay? You think you can justify this by calling my marriage fake?” I stepped closer, and he flinched. Good. “Let me tell you something, Elliot. Fake or not, I love him. Do you hear me? I love my husband. And it’s going to take a hell of a lot more than this—this ridiculous, manipulative stunt —for me to walk away from him.“

“Jenny, I thought I was seeing a ghost. He looked exactly like Judah. Same height. Same presence. Same eyes.” “But it’s not Judah.” “I know that,” she said quickly, almost angrily. “I know it’s not Judah. Judah died in Cuba. In that fire. I buried the man I loved. Technically a ring anyway.” Jenny was quiet again. “Then why are we having this conversation?” she asked softly. “Fedora, listen to me. You married Judah Carlstone in a fake marriage that turned out real. You lost him in the worst way imaginable. And now... here comes this man—who looks like him, sounds like him—and suddenly your heart is breaking all over again. Don’t you think maybe this is grief dressed up as romance?”

fake now. I had played the recording four times already. By the fifth, I stopped pretending I needed to listen again to confirm but it was him. His voice. His laugh. His betrayal. I really wanted to believe the voicemail was fake. That someone intentionally wanted to tear us apart for good by sending this manipulated recording. But it didn’t sound edited. It sounded… real. Too real. “He’s easier to fool than I thought.” "All it took was love words and some sex. And now he is over heels for me.”

“Deal.” And just like that, the line between fake and real started to blur.