The Pretend Girlfriend (43 page)

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Authors: Lucy Lambert

BOOK: The Pretend Girlfriend
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And she wished badly she could distract herself right then. However, she needed to be there for Aiden, and she intended to be. She put herself in his place, trying to understand what he needed from her.

They must have sat there for half an hour, Aiden gripping her hand so hard she lost feeling in it, before he said anything.

"Why am I so upset? Isn't it strange that I'm so upset?"

"He's your father. It's okay to be upset," she replied.

"But I don't love him. At least... I didn't think I did," Aiden said.

"Are you sure?" Gwen said. From her experience, love could survive and grow in the strangest of places and situations. She could tell then that Aiden cared deeply for his father. If he hadn't, their long rivalry never would have existed.

And, Gwen knew, if that were true, then the same held for Henry.

"I don't know," he said finally.

It took two more hours for a doctor to finally come in. He was an older man with a horseshoe of salt-and-pepper hair surrounding his bald pate, a broad nose, and eyes tired and withdrawn from the long surgery.

"Aiden Manning?" he said.

Aiden and Gwen bolted to their feet. Blood surged past her ears.

"I'm Dr. Lessing. Your father suffered multiple fractures throughout his body. However, our concern is the internal bleeding..."

The bottom of Gwen's stomach felt like it just dropped through the floor.

"Can I see him?" Aiden said.

"We really need to talk about this..." Lessing said.

"We can talk after I see him. Can I see him?"

Recognizing the tone in Aiden's voice, the doctor relented. He led them to the recovery room, advising him to keep the visit short. Gwen started to follow Aiden into the room, but Lessing snagged her by the elbow. "Immediate family only, I'm afraid."

Aiden turned to argue her case, but she forestalled him. "It's okay. I'll be right outside when you're ready."

Deciding that she wasn't going to try and go in anyway, Lessing released her arm. She sat on one of two chairs beside the door and waited.

Perhaps ten minutes later a shrill alarm sounded. A team of scrub-clad doctors and nurses rushed into the recovery room, pushing along a cart loaded with medical equipment. Gwen stood, covering her mouth, unable to blink. She couldn't process what was happening.

Aiden came out moments later, probably kicked out by the doctors. Those few minutes inside changed him. He looked haggard and worn out, his skin sallow and his eyes sunken. When he saw her, he sat down. She sank back to her seat as well.

"What... what happened?" she said.

"He was at some building he was getting restored down in the Village when I called him. He thought I was serious about sending those documents, so he rushed out to his car to try and get to my lawyer's office. There was a garbage truck he tried to swerve around..."

She gave him time, offering her hands. He accepted them, holding tight like a drowning man to a bit of driftwood.

"He told me not to blame myself for the accident, that it wasn't my fault. He told me..." he choked up, taking some time to clear his throat, "He told me he wishes things had been different. And then—And then he said I looked so much like my mother, and how I reminded him of her, and how he missed her so much. And how that wasn't my fault, either."

He laid his head against her shoulder.

Epilogue

G
wen fished for her apartment keys in her purse, finally snagging her finger through the key ring. Today marked a full three months since Henry's funeral, and she wanted to make sure everything was nice before she went to meet Aiden and Beatrice at Starbucks.

She also wanted to sneak a few more lines into the conclusion of the essay she'd finished yesterday. It just needed something a little extra to tie all those arguments together.

That was on her mind as she shoved the door open with her shoulder. This new semester was going so much better than the last one.

Everything was going better, really. Higher grades, more confidence in school, that sort of thing. And Aiden seemed to be gearing up for something big. He'd taken over the company in his father's absence, and had been busy with that, but he'd always made sure to make time for her.

Gwen walked by the kitchen, intent on going to her room and getting some keyboard time in at her laptop, when she stopped and did a double take.

The kitchen was empty. Nothing in the fridge, not even that expired bottle of ketchup that had been sitting there since before she and Aiden were a thing, the cutlery drawer was devoid of knives, forks, and spoons. Even her little trash bin was gone.

Her pulse ratcheted.

She practically body checked her bedroom door open. Her creeping, dreadful suspicions proved themselves true.

There wasn't a stick of furniture in her bedroom. Her tiny bed was gone, her desk, her laptop with its un-submitted essay. Even the perpetual pile of laundry was absent from its traditional corner!

The rest of the apartment proved similarly empty. They'd taken everything, up to and including that old TV that she couldn't pay someone to get off her hands.

"How?" Gwen muttered, that dread settling into her stomach. How could this happen again? She didn't have a roommate to swindle her this time. She'd unlocked the door to come in, so they hadn't broken through that.

The windows in every room were shut and locked. It was like they'd teleported all her stuff out.

The only evidence was a few dusty boot prints on the linoleum of the kitchen floor, and a dark mark on one of the walls where something, presumably the couch, had rubbed against it on its way out the door.

"No no no..." Gwen said.

When someone knocked on the door, Gwen nearly jumped out of her skin. Her first thought was thought it was the burglars. But it couldn't be them; they'd taken literally everything already.

She went over and looked through the peephole to see Aiden standing on the other side. He was supposed to be waiting over at Starbucks, but she was instantly glad he was there. She wrenched the door open.

"I've been robbed!" she said, throwing herself into his arms, "Oh, Aiden, they took everything! Even my ketchup!"

He wrapped those big strong arms around her and kissed her forehead in between gently trying to calm her. "Hey, come on, it's okay. Don't worry about your ketchup."

"I don't care about the ketchup! What about my laptop? It has my essay on it! Oh, God, I'm going to fail that class! Should I call the cops?"

"I wouldn't," Aiden replied.

She sniffled and realized how puffy her face must look when she was like this. She changed her mind; it wasn't a good thing that he was here. It would be just her luck for him to suddenly decide she was ugly and dump her or something.

"Why not?" she said, regaining some composure.

"Because your stuff is fine."

"Oh? You know the burglars? Are they clients of yours?" she said, irritated at his cavalier attitude. Not everyone was rich like he was.

"Actually, I'm their client."

"What?!" she said, pushing away from him. A few neighbors had poked their heads out of their doorways to see what all the commotion was about. She ignored them.

He held up his hands in surrender, but his smile belied the gesture. "Yes, and they're not burglars. They're a moving company. Beatrice recommended them to me. I gave them that spare key you gave me; they came in while you were in class."

She leaned back against the doorframe. "What are you saying?"

"I wanted it to be a surprise, but now I'm sort of regretting it... I didn't realize it would upset you so much..."

"What? What surprise?"

Looking bashful, scratching at the back of his head, Aiden replied, "I bought us a new condo. It's overlooking the park, just like you like, I had them take all your stuff over. Though, I hope you don't mind if we use my bed instead of yours..."

Everything clicked in her head. "You're moving in with me!"

His smile grew, "Well, I think it's more like
you're
moving in with
me
. But you can put it that way if you want."

Gwen felt the pressure behind her eyes and couldn't resist it. The tears started falling down her cheeks in big, fat drops.

Alarmed, Aiden pulled her close. "Are you okay? Really, I'm sorry. I thought you'd like the surprise..."

"It's not that," she said.

"It's not?"

"No, I just love you so much."

He kissed the top of her head. "I love you, too."

THE END

Did you love
The Pretend Girlfriend: A Billionaire Love Story
? Then you should read
The Pretend Fiancé: A Billionaire Love Story
by Lucy Lambert!

"What if he didn’t have that company and that money, though? Would you still feel the same way about him?"

After Aiden Manning, the billionaire CEO, let me into his life, I thought our problems were over. And when he went down on one knee, in front of my parents and all our friends, I knew there was only one answer to his question.

Yes...

However, as soon as I started feeling secure in our relationship, an old figure from his past arrived. She wasn't interested in congratulating us, she was only interested in breaking the two of us apart, just as Henry had done last year.

I sacrificed so much to make our relationship work, and I'd do it all again. However, will the secrets that I have to keep from Aiden be our undoing?

About the Author

Lucy just loves to write romantic stories filled with steamy scenes. She hopes her audience enjoys reading them as much as she enjoys writing them.

You can sign up for her newsletter to receive the latest updates on new releases and promotions here: http://mad.ly/signups/77009/join (copy and paste into your browser's address bar if you cannot click on the link).

You can contact Lucy at: [email protected]

Also, check out her official blog at: https://lucylambertauthor.wordpress.com/

About the Publisher

To self-publish or not to self-publish, that is the question. The good news: whatever you decide, we’re here to support you.

You might not want to deal with the hassle of being your own publisher. It can be hard to find a good cover designer, to deal with formatting and publishing, to decide what promotions are most cost-effective. Not everybody wants total control over every detail – you want to write, and let the publisher do the rest.

The problem is that most traditional publishers pay out 15-25% of royalties, and even digital-only publishers only pay 35% of net royalties. Some vanity digital publishers make you pay them for “publishing packages” and then still take royalties from you. And most publishers depend on their authors to do promotion and marketing, or worse: force authors into ineffectual promotional tactics like blog tours.

We think that sucks. We want a publisher with good royalties and author-friendly contract terms. A publisher who gives us control when we want it, and who takes the reins when we get overwhelmed with options. A publisher who knows how to sell our books and who isn’t out to screw their authors for a dime.

Well, we couldn’t find that publisher, so we decided to do it ourselves. PubYourself has long been dedicated to helping authors self-publish – if you want to self-publish and do everything yourself, we give you the tools and support to do it! But if you don’t want to do it on your own right now, or if you decide your time is better spent writing, let us publish your book!

Come check us out at http://www.pubyourselfpress.com

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