Pretended Crossword Clue Novels & Stories

Like she’s debating whether to ask me something or not before finally stretching her hand out, waving the paper at me. “Number thirty-eight across. Five letters.” Her tone sharp and testing. I lean forward, pluck the crossword from her hand with deliberate slowness, letting my fingers brush hers just long enough to see her lips twitch. I lean back, crossing one ankle over my knee, and stretch the paper casually in my hand. “Open 2018 Halep’s breakthrough,” I murmur before clicking my tongue. “Easy… Paris.” I fish a pen from my shirt pocket, scribble down the answer, and flick the paper back at her like it’s nothing.

"Get lost! Gigi's already married to someone else. You are no one to her now!" Malcolm didn't fight back, but the words spilled out. "Arthur, please, don't push me any further. I know I went too far. Gigi sent me a fake marriage certificate, and I understand how she must have felt back then." Arthur's voice was thick with scorn. "A fake? Verify it. You'll know soon enough. Things like that don't get past the marriage records." The blow landed hard, though Malcolm still held on to a thread of hope.

"No, but we agreed the other day that if she did, we would make an example out of her. Didn't we?" I reasoned for a while as I tried to make our conversation filled with lies and imaginations seem real. "Was I wearing a purple shirt?" I asked. "No, you were wearing a yellow shit. The one with the symbol of the cross." "That is not possible. You know how much I hate the symbol of the cross." "Aha!" Jane let out a momentary cry as if some imaginary creature was pinning her down to the ground and pressing the weight of their paws against her head and body as they sniffed her.

Apparently, I was crying too because if the slick stuff on my face wasn’t tears then there was a HUGE problem. “Sir, the bomb on the microwave was locally made..” Bomb? I’m Claire Wordsworth. Why would anyone plant a bomb in my kitchen? I used to pick my nose as a kid! I still do but not as often. “Contact Mr. Carter, Miss. Wordsworth is hyperventilating.”

He confessed and heard her scoff softly. “How many days did it take you to rehearse that? Or let me guess, seeing how things didn’t work out with Lilly, you need another pretend bride.” She threw at him and turned her head in his direction. “It’s not happening, Cruz. I am not the old El. This one, right here, grew.” She informed. The old her would have been so thrilled to hear him say those words but now, it sounded nothing less than lies to her. “El…I need you to believe me.” He said, his right palm finding her left palm and picking it up gently. “Please, El.” He pleaded.

Before he came to the office, the parents previously discussed that they were going to pretend to accept Clara’s existence. By doing so, Alex would not have anything to worry about, they would go ahead and feed him with lies and tear them apart. Alex and Clara finally arrived. He needed to give his parents a phone call to know if they got the message. “Oh my, are you guys here already. Don’t worry, I will be outside now.” Mrs Peters feigned. She doesn’t care if whatever she did was too good to be true. She was just going to do it. Alex was perplexed, though he didn’t tell Clara what the problem was. Clara could read his surprised expression. “What did mum say?” She asked him.

I asked with a hint of amusement, pressing my hand onto the bedding and pushing myself closer to her. She does not reply. She only glares. I let out a chuckle. “If I wasn't there, Alex, something bad would have happened to you. You should be thanking me, not calling me arrogant, you know?” She presses her lips together, looking so small and innocent. “I am Alexa. And there is nothing you can tell me to justify…” “Alex…” “Alexa…” She interrupts me again. “What difference does it make?!” I snap, shooting to my feet instantly. “Whether Alex or Alexa, as my pretend bride, you should answer me as Alex, understood?”

“I wanted to, well I was wondering if you… I suppose there’s no right way to ask a person this so I’m just going to come right out with it. Would you be my girlfriend?” “W-what?” I felt completely thrown. “I don’t even know you.” “No, no, no.” Ethan laughed. “Not like that. I just want you to pretend to be my girlfriend.” “Pretend?” I asked, still confused. He knew this was ludicrous, right? “Why would I pretend to be your girlfriend?” “Well actually, I was thinking you’d first start off pretending to be my girlfriend, and then if all goes well in about six months you could pretend to be my fiance.”

I heard Ethan say and I stiffened refusing to look back at him not until he touched me. His hand was on mine which was resting on the chair. “Are you alright, Alexandra?” He whispered, leaning closer. My heart began pounding. “I uh… yes” I managed to stutter, avoiding his gaze. He kept looking at me with such intensity in his eyes and I realized I was looking into the eyes of someone who has spent all his life pretending. The look in his eyes to deceive passersby was something that came easy to him, he didn't need to do much. He was used to pretending but in this case… I didn't appreciate it because I was fooled too by it.