The Billionaire’s Fake Wife (Book 4): (Crystal Beach Resort Standalone Series)

by Hart, Hanna

  Willow nodded. “I remember.”

  “But secretly, I was sort of excited,” he admitted, squeezing her hands. “I think a small part of me was hoping… you know… for a do-over.”

  “Oh,” Willow swallowed hard and blinked in surprise.

  Tag’s campaign manager began to hurry everyone out to the stage, and Willow couldn’t think of anything lovely or wonderful to say to him. Asking ‘Is that right?’ in a low, seductive tone was all she could manage before they were ushered to their seats.

  The conference was short and sweet, just the way Ryder preferred it. Tag Prescott, Sheila, Ryder, Willow, and Tag's campaign manager sat at a long panel table in front of microphones while the local press asked Tag questions about the upcoming election.

  He talked about his initiative to lower taxes for the rich island inhabitants, his plan to boost tourism, and his desire to build a school on the island so that children no longer had to be ferried to the mainland.

  Most of his answers were met with approval from the audience, but some were not.

  “Your son Isaac wants to expand the island's inhabitants—expand the hospital, open a college, perhaps open the island up to residences that are lower than six-figures,” one journalist asked, itching behind his ear with a pen as he spoke into the microphone. “How do you feel about that?”

  “Isaac is ambitious,” Tag said carefully, never ceasing to smile for the reporters. “I raised him that way. In fact, I taught Isaac a lot of what he knows about politics. About life, really.”

  This non-answer set the crowd into hushed laughter. The message was clear: if Isaac was good at the political game, it was because of Tag. And nobody likes a knockoff.

  The audience seemed to enjoy the family dynamic, and there was never a question so awkward that Tag couldn't charm his way through it.

  It was, interesting, to say the least.

  The reporters didn't seem the least bit concerned with Ryder's new marriage until the very end of the press conference when a few congratulations began to trickle in.

  “Rumor has it your son and his new wife were actually high school sweethearts,” a woman in an all-black pantsuit asked. “Is that correct?”

  “That's right,” Tag said, nodding approvingly toward Ryder and Willow. “Not many people get a second chance at love. These two are an inspiration.”

  Willow blushed at this, and she had no idea why.

  A younger reporter with slicked-back blond hair raised his hand and Tag's campaign manager pointed his way. A microphone was passed down to the man, and he asked, “We saw the amazing pictures of the charitable works you both did on your honeymoon. Why was this something you felt was important to do on such a special occasion?”

  “Charity is something my father deeply instilled in me,” Ryder said, and Willow began to nod without even thinking about it. “Especially with animals. So, when Willow and I heard about the rescue sled dog movement, we couldn't pass up the honor to be involved.”

  Perfect, she thought. Deflect your own awesomeness and remind the people why your dad cares about people and animals. Remind them that he was a good father with good values.

  The questions went on like this, praising the two for being such delightful all-American kids, until one reporter—a woman in tall stilettos and a suggestive top, said, “You two look so in love. You must be over the moon with this pairing, Mr. President.”

  Tag nodded appreciatively, patting Ryder hard on the back. “Couldn't be prouder of these two.”

  “It makes one wonder why they separated in the first place?” the reporter asked.

  Tag grimaced and looked over at Ryder. “Well,” he spoke unsurely into the microphone. “In my opinion, they've been perfect for each other since they were seventeen and my wife and I have always loved Willow. She has always been like one of the family. But, kids will be kids. Sometimes you need to grow up a little until you're ready to find the love of your life.”

  “We wish them all the best,” the reporter summarized, but it wasn’t the least bit genuine.

  It was those simple words that brought reality rushing back to Willow's mind. The breakup. The reason why the two of them should never have been together in the first place, and why rekindling anything now was a giant waste of time.

  Suddenly, the romantic high Willow had felt—the overwhelming feeling that everything hadn't been a waste between them—came crashing down.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Willow

  Ever since the question at the press conference, all Willow had been able to think of was their breakup.

  Back then, Willow and Ryder had been dating for two years when things started to go south. The decline of their relationship, like most, was so slight it was almost unnoticeable.

  They'd graduated from Hannah High one year after they met and they both moved to New York for college.

  When Willow asked Ryder what he wanted to be when he 'grew up,' his answer was always a firefighter. So, when he told her he'd been accepted to Columbia University for business and finance, she was genuinely surprised. Sure, he'd often joked about becoming an investment banker or running some hedge fund, but she had always assumed it was just that—a joke.

  While Willow was accepted to NYU, she chose to attend LaGuardia community college because it was only a two-year program for journalism. Her desire was never to be one of those people who stayed in school for five or six years. She just wanted to learn what she needed to know and get out and work.

  This was their first mistake—going to separate colleges.

  The next hit came when Ryder refused to move in with her.

  “My parents are paying for my schooling, Willow,” he said with a roll of his shoulders one night. “I can't just have you move in here. They'd freak. You know how old-school they are.”

  That was the truth. Ryder had money from his parents to pay for his entire schooling outright, as well as a snazzy apartment in Manhattan. Willow was working two jobs, one as a waitress and one at school in the tutoring program, just to pay for her four-hundred square foot apartment in Brooklyn.

  Brooklyn, in reality, was not far from Manhattan. It wasn't like a day's journey or anything—more like an hour. But it only solidified the distance that was mounting between them. Being in different school's meant they had different groups of friends, different schedules, and different responsibilities.

  They still saw each other several times a week, and nothing about their connection had weakened, or so Willow felt, but she was ready for a commitment from him, and he didn't seem to be catching her signals.

  “Besides,” Ryder said with a shrug, “What's the difference? You're over here all the time, anyway.”

  “It would just be nice if I didn't have to traipse across the city just to find you,” she said.

  “Just to find me?” he scoffed. “Willow, we talk to each other all day. I'm texting you every time I have a free second just to tell you that I miss you.”

  “Well, maybe you wouldn't miss me so much if we lived together,” she grinned.

  “You know we can't,” he shrugged. “My parents would go nuts.”

  “Then I think we should do whatever it takes to make moving in possible,” Willow said shyly.

  She sat on Ryder's lap and played with the buttons that crawled up his shirt, not making eye contact with him.

  “Isn’t this an old subject?” Ryder said, trying not to sigh to overtly. “I don't want to get married until we're out of college,” he said, holding her hand. “I already told you this, and we agreed. Now please, let’s not talk about this. We always fight when we do.”

  “You agreed,” she said, lowering her brows in a mix of frustration and hurt. “I didn't agree at all.”

  “Yes, you did,” he laughed.

  Willow shrugged and said, “Well, I don’t agree anymore.”

  “Willow, I love you. But I'm not getting married at twenty just to prove it to you.”

  “If we're just going to do it lat
er anyway, then what's the difference?” she said sharply. “Unless you don't want to marry me.”

  “I love you,” he said. “But I'm not there yet.”

  Willow had bit her lip. “Charlie says if you don't want to marry me now, you'll never want to marry me.”

  Charlie Pace, her co-worker and friend, had become her confidant in recent weeks. She confided in him about many of her problems—maybe even a little too much for Ryder's liking.

  “Charlie says?” Ryder repeated indignantly. “Charlie says? We're listening to what Charlie has to say about our relationship?”

  She could see why it made Ryder jealous, and maybe she even used that fact against him sometimes just to hurt him or try and shake some commitment out of him. Charlie was tall and handsome, he was kind and funny, and he had a terrible crush on Willow, though she would never admit that to Ryder.

  “Why do you talk to that guy about us?” Ryder sighed. “You know I hate that.”

  “Don't you talk to anyone about us?” she asked.

  “Yeah,” he said with a comical breath. “You!”

  Willow swallowed. “I needed someone to talk to!”

  “Why?”

  “You know why, Ryder,” she said a little quieter. “I want a baby.”

  Willow was never someone who dreamt of getting married and starting a family. Far from it. She wanted to live by the moon and stay nineteen forever.

  But, shortly after she turned twenty, something in her changed. It was something deep in her soul that started to twist and constrict with agony over not having a baby. This monster inside of her had taken over her every thought. All she wanted now was to be a wife and a mother. She wanted to start a family with Ryder, and he wouldn't even give it a second thought.

  At first, when she had brought it up, his response had made a lot of sense.

  “We're so young,” he'd said, “I want kids but, let's wait until we're out of school and find work so we can provide a stable life, okay?”

  She agreed—logically, it all made sense. You shouldn't have a baby if you can't take care of it, and she wanted to be married before starting a family, which she knew they shouldn't do while they were in school.

  But as the months went on, the monster became louder and more vicious with its want.

  It was only months before her graduation, since she had only opted for a two-year course, which meant her end of the bargain would be met. But Ryder still had three more years of school.

  It was silly, and maybe even a little selfish, but Willow didn't want to wait anymore. She wanted to satisfy her soul; she wanted to settle down, grow up, be a mom.

  “I want a baby,” she repeated.

  Ryder wouldn’t meet her eyes. He removed his hands from her waist, and she began to cry.

  “I’m sorry,” he said apologetically. “I don’t.”

  “Don’t now or don’t ever?”

  Ryder shrugged and finally met her eyes, tilting her chin up to look at him. “I don’t know,” he admitted.

  Willow began to cry harder then, pulling her hands over her face like a shield. She felt awkward and stupid, still sitting on top of him like an idiot.

  Ryder swallowed uncomfortably and ran his hands up the sides of her arms.

  “I’m sorry, babe,” he said.

  “You have no idea what this feels like,” she cried, “You think I want to be this baby-obsessed monster? I don’t! I just want to be with you, but it hurts so bad.”

  “I know,” he whispered.

  “You don’t know,” she snipped. “You have no idea what this feels like. It’s like there’s a part of me that’s missing and all I want to do is fill it back up and I can’t.”

  Ryder was silent and contemplative. The quiet scared her. He said nothing for so long that her tears stopped out of sheer panic. What was he thinking?

  “You deserve to have a baby if that’s what you want,” he said, looking down at her legs. “And you shouldn’t have to wait for me to catch up with you.”

  Willow blinked and wiped her fingers under her eyes.

  “What does that mean?” she asked.

  “It means, if you want a baby, then you should be with someone who wants a baby, too. But, that person isn’t me.”

  “Are you breaking up with me?” she breathed.

  Ryder kept his deep blue eyes to himself, seeming already detached. Seeming like he’d made this decision weeks ago and was forcing himself to finally say it.

  “Ryder?” She felt her throat tighten as she said, “Is that what you want?”

  “No,” he shook his head, finally looking up at her. “But I can see where this is going, and I don’t like it. This isn’t fun anymore, Willow. Is it? Are you having fun?”

  “Yes!” she insisted, crying again.

  “No, you’re not. I love you, and I want to be with you, but you’re already treating me differently.”

  “No, I’m not,” she said.

  “In the last five months, you’ve completely changed. You’re hurting, and I get that. And I’m the one hurting you because I’m the one who doesn’t want to move forward, right?”

  Willow wouldn’t respond.

  “You resent me,” he simplified, seemingly suddenly cold. “Your resentment is the underlying note of our entire interaction. You don’t talk to me like you used to, you don’t look at me the same way, you don’t even kiss me like you used to, Willow. So, no. I don’t want to break up, but I’m not staying in a relationship like this. I can’t. And you shouldn’t have to, either, if your life is taking you somewhere else.”

  The words struck her—sharp and stinging one after another.

  Hurtful words were thrown around following his confession. She called him a coward, he called her selfish and impatient, she said if that was how he really felt, she was gone.

  Then, in typical girl-fashion, she stormed out and slammed the door.

  Thinking about that moment now, Willow couldn’t decide who was in the right.

  She had wanted a child so badly that it became all-consuming. Maybe it did ruin their relationship, but she couldn’t help the way she felt. Maybe she pushed him away; maybe she was spoiled. But she loved him. She called him two nights later begging him to take her back, but he wouldn’t answer her calls.

  After a solid week of being frozen out, Willow went to his apartment, only to find there was a new tenant there.

  Two weeks later a mutual friend had told Willow that Ryder moved to Nani Makai, where his parents had relocated from the mainland, and was going to school in the islands now.

  She was shocked and heartbroken. But he must have meant it, she reasoned. He didn’t want to be with her anymore. Now, almost eight years later, she still wasn’t a mother. She wasn’t a girlfriend.

  She was a writer—her career had taken all of her focus and drive.

  And being faced with the prospect of being with Ryder again seemed like the most enticing, most dangerous game she had ever dared to play.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Ryder

  Ryder and Willow had been married for two months. They slipped into island life like they were teenagers again, spending all hours of the night out on the beach and devoting their Friday nights to watching movies and ordering in. They would read books back and forth to each other, switching off after each paragraph.

  During the work week, Willow would text him ridiculous pictures of her making faces while she was at work and he would sneak away from an investment meeting at his office just to be able to look at them.

  Tonight was one of the biggest events of his father's career. He was debating against Isaac in a press-only function. Crystal Beach Resorts, a huge supporter of his father, was broadcasting the debate in one of their conference rooms with over two-hundred people attending.

  Of course, Ryder's mother expected he and Willow to attend and show their support.

  Ryder sighed throughout the whole process of getting dressed. He put on a dark suit with a gray tie, as per his mot
her's request. Willow wore a long-sleeved sparkling navy-blue dress. No sign of neon anywhere. The dress shimmered and cut off just above her knees.

  They arrived at the event and were met with a slew of photographers. Willow posed and smiled for each one, but Ryder couldn't bear to do it anymore. He was sure there were going to be photos of him scowling in the paper next morning with some ridiculous headline about how he must think his father would lose.

  But Willow was just perfect.

  Living with her was strange at first, but they quickly learned to move with each other's rhythm. She was out the door for work in the morning, and he followed soon after.

  His feelings for her were unstoppable now, but he hadn't tried to take things further with them. There was too much at stake.

  For a start, they had his parents’ outlandish contract to fulfill. He didn't want to be with someone who was doing him a favor or being paid a million dollars to share his company. And then there were other concerns to keep in mind.

  She hurt him.

  And the worst part now was that she wouldn't even own up to it. He packed up and left, yes. He was childish. But she hurt him.

  He could still remember the deliberate silence in his New York apartment when she'd slammed the door and stormed off all those years ago. It was deafening.

  Ryder stood still in his apartment, listening to Willow burst into tears down the hall and press for the elevator. The two minutes it took for the elevator to come up, Ryder had tried to convince himself to chase after her, but he couldn't bring himself to do it.

  Stupid.

  She wanted things he couldn’t give her yet. He was under immense pressure from his family to graduate with honors. They didn't want him living with Willow before they were married—so a baby was way out of the question.

  Ryder wasn't against children. He wasn't the best with making conversation with a five-year-old, but he assumed that having your own was a completely different experience.

  He wanted to get married—someday.