Faking Ms Right Novels & Stories

I wished he would be a little unreasonable so I can lash out some more, but I quickly banished the self sabotaging thought. This was my opportunity to escape the fate of being a pretend wife. I would be foolish to let it go. “I'm not against being your wife, per se,” I said, choosing my words carefully. “What I'm against is being forced into a role I didn't agree with. I don't like being ordered to do so as though I have no opinion of my own,” Mr Benedetto raised an eyebrow, his expression thoughtful. “Go on.” he said, his voice neutral.

After five years of marriage, I found out my husband was in love with my best friend, the same one who stole my fiance. Betrayed by both of them, I decided to fake my death and disappear. There were two days left. After I sent the email, Lloyd Becker walked into the study. Just as I closed the email about my fake death plan, he gently hugged me from behind and casually looked at my screen. “Sending work emails?” “Yeah, just checking some work plans.” I tried to sound natural and smiled at him.

“Don’t kid yourself, Leon. I’m not your wife. I’m your fake wife. A convenient arrangement with an expiration date.” Leon’s jaw tightened, his eyes narrowing. “That’s not true-” “Not true?” I cut him off, my voice rising. “What’s true about any of this? In a few months, this will all be over. You’ll go your way, I’ll go mine, and you can do whatever you want. Isn’t that what we agreed?” For a moment, he didn’t say anything. His silence only fueled my anger. “Are you worried about Owen?” I added sarcastically, “the handsome scholar who might ruin the carefully calibrated image of your precious marriage? Or is it the thought of your wife moving on too quickly—with her old classmate—that bother

My stomach flipped. I reread the line at least twenty-three times, as if it would suddenly change to, "Just kidding! Singles welcome! We love lonely intellectuals with control issues!" But no. I was stuck. I mean... it was just a small lie, right? I wasn’t hurting anyone. And it was for a good cause—my research on emotional intimacy in long-term relationships. I needed this grant. I needed peace. I needed the space. I just… needed a fake husband.

“Oh my god. I didn't mean to say that out loud. That was a terrible joke…please pretend you didn't hear that.” To my absolute shock, a soft, reassuring smile spread across his face, and he gave a slow nod. “Alright. I didn't mind the joke. And... if it helps, I could offer you a job.” I scoffed, crossing my arms over my chest as the heat in my cheeks slowly subsided. “Please. I'm already technically working for you as your professional fake girlfriend.” He pressed a hand dramatically to his chest, his eyes dancing with amusement. “Wow. Am I really so undesirable then that you see dating me as a job?”

Like his words carried no emotions as he spoke. “I beg to differ. I feel they’re missing out on someone special but you sure can be a pain in the ass,” She drags her last words to make emphasis as she directs her attention from the ceiling to Dylan who has a smirk on. “Likewise you too” “What? I’m an angel,” Anna immediately defends while faking a shocked expression. “Is this how you lie to your patient Dr. Anna?” Dylan was the one to tease her this time around as he raises his brows while staring at her.

Without a word, he filled the two teacups, stretching the other to Andre. "What's in the tea?" Andre asked, holding his hand on a suspended level. "It didn't kill you the first time, you think it will now?" Macklemore teased. "I mean, is it like a truth syrup or some kind of therapeutic stuff?" Andre finally has a sip. "The tea is to help you relax, other than that, it does nothing else. Everything you see when you enter your subconscious is a manifestation of the residual files in your brain, just as our mobile applications contain residual files and cached all piled in the junk folder."

“What do you have in mind?” He gives me a crooked smile back. “How about sending some fake info about a ‘new’ liquor which doesn’t have the bitter taste of alcohol and has even stronger effects on werewolves? Downing one glass, and the werewolf is knocked on his/her butt. What do you think?” A new secret liquor. Very interesting. I like it. I nod my head. “That sounds good. How are you going to ‘leak’ it to the rogue pack?”

Jake fired back at me as I stood the silence amazed by this level of effrontery. "So, I get attitude in my own house?" I threw the question to no one at all and sat on the couch. "You told me that you and Megan were just partners, so what do we have here?" Jake queried with his phone in my face again. "Oh please, take that away from my face." I implored. "You have probably gotten another fake news from your fake ass sources." I replied. Jake looked at me quietly and busted out into a phase of laughter. He laughed so hard that he clinched his belly and I watched confused, wondering whether I cracked a joke.

she laughs "like they say these days faking it in style." I give her a confused look "what?" "You know, when you're in a fake relationship, these days that's what everyone's doing." "Well, I'm only doing this for mom, and trust me I will not develop falling for him." "My dear friend, you're saying that now, but when the time comes you'll be dying for his touch, his kiss, his scent, his di- ah" I shot her with Levi's water gun. That damn dirty mouth girl. "Charlotte you bitch," she curses, ask I continue to shot her.