Let's Pretend We Don't Exist Novels & Stories

I’m not expecting anything. Collin: I can delete the text thread. Can pretend it didn’t happen. I snickered a little at how he was freaking out. I felt bad. If I was any other girl, he wouldn’t be freaking out like this. He wouldn’t feel the need to walk on eggshells about sexual subjects.

“Yes, we do.” “No.” I slammed the knife down too hard. Mayonnaise splattered across the counter, and my voice shook. “What we need is to pretend. Pretend everything’s fine. Pretend she’s not here. Pretend you don’t look at me like you’re in love with me. Pretend I don’t look at you the same way.” My voice cracked on the last word. “Pretend until it kills us.” He didn’t even blink. He stepped closer instead, his gaze fierce and unrelenting. “Don’t say that.” His voice was low, dangerous. “Don’t you dare say that. You know this isn’t pretend.”

“Just… if we do this, we can’t keep calling it fake tomorrow.” He blinked down at me, brain clearly still offline. “Huh?” “You heard me.” My voice came out shaky. “If we fuck right now, we can't get to wake up and act like this is still just the stupid pretend thing we’ve been doing for everyone else.” He stared. I stared back. The room went dead quiet except for our breathing. Then he blurted, “Then let’s stop calling it fake.” I snorted. “Just like that?”

Archi P. O. V Life is not what we pretend to others. Everyone has their reason to put on a mask, pretend to be bitch. It doesn't change what we feel inside but if we let anyone see what we are, it lets them know our weaknesses. Most of the time one of your known backstabs, not your enemies. I made enough mistakes in the past that I ended my account forever. It's indeed a lesson for today and it changes you as well.

, She called out again. Jason shut his eyelids tightly and pretended to be asleep. He was not going to open the door for anybody. He remained like that till his mother gave up and returned downstairs. His mind drifted to the day's incident; how he was bullied multiple times that day and he could not do anything about it. He did not even feel hungry anymore.

The light is low, casting a sensual glow about the room. “What exactly are we doing here?” She asked. “Our relationship is not even real and you want us to stay here!” She added “Relax! At dinner last night I saw your eyes! Was that acting or real?” He asked. “Is all acting please, we signed a contract and we need to focus on it.” she snapped. “ let’s pretend we are still acting,” “relax act your script, we didn’t exclude a hotel act. We can act anywhere.” He replied.

Thanks, brain, I guess. I can hear footsteps coming at me and shouts of bitch you will never get away with this! As I turn to the corner, my ears are suddenly surrounded by faint chatters from people getting louder. A song is still ringing through my earphones as Agon screamed: THE WORLD IS CRUEL THE WORLD IS UNFAIR BUT WE SHOULDN'T BLAME THE WORLD FOR ITS PEOPLE THAT NEVER CARED NATIONS SHALL UNITE BUT WE CREATED WARS I CAN'T BELIEVE MOST OF YOU BELIEVE IN GOD

Ah, who the fuck am I kidding, I have been losing my shit my whole fucking life. We have now been in this cabin for a couple of days. He moves me from room to room but I am still wearing this ankle cuff. Part of me just wants to lie to him and say, yeah, I’m great, so that he lets me go and all of that shit. However, I already know I can’t lie to him. He can see through me just like I can him. It’s something with our wolves and this whole connection we share as mates, that means if he tries to lie to me I’d know and vice versa.

"Get up. Today's the day we get our marriage license. Don't tell me you forgot." I'd stopped expecting anything from him ages ago, but I played along. He was weirdly upbeat, talking nonstop once we got in the car. When I barely replied, he frowned. "What's with you? It's our big day—you're not even a little excited?" I turned from the window and looked straight at him. "If two people aren't in love anymore, what's the point of getting married? What if one day you wake up and realize you don't love me? What if you regret it?"

After thinking for a moment, I sent a message to that number: "Let's meet at Central Park at 4:00 pm tomorrow." At exactly 4:00 pm, a fully covered young woman was sitting on one side of a bench. She asked, "Who are you?" "I'm Audrey Lynch, the wife of Martin Steinfeld." The young woman immediately stood up and wanted to leave. "We have nothing to talk about unless Martin pays with his life." I calmly said, "I have the same thought. Maybe I can help you." The young woman turned her head and looked at me in surprise. "Tell me the truth," I repeated word by word and continued, "I might also want Martin to die."