Big Bad Fake Groom: A Billionaire's Virgin Romance

by Tia Siren

  It was wonderful, but also very strange. For most of the time, it was like I was back in high school, laughing and talking with him about stupid, silly things and just generally having fun. The rest of time, of course, was a whirlwind of touches and sex and mind-blowing pleasure. I liked that we could chat with each other like the old days and be friends as well as lovers. It was the easiest thing in the world to be with him.

  During our time together, neither of us mentioned Bill. There was no point, and we both knew it.

  Bill, of course, knew what was going on. I might have been able to hide my sneaking in and out of the house, but I couldn’t hide my happiness. Often, I found myself smiling, humming, or singing around the house. Predictably, Bill took my new behavior as an opportunity to taunt and tease me. He kept dropping insidious hints about Jesse’s past and implying that he would betray me in the end, but I was determined not to listen. Jesse’s growing affection for me was like a suit of armor that protected me against my brother’s meanness, and though I knew our relationship had an expiration date—namely, the start of Jesse’s professional season—I was determined to enjoy it for as long as I could.

  Then, in a single moment, everything changed.

  On a Friday morning, about two months into our relationship, I woke up feeling rather ill. Slightly dizzy, I waddled into the bathroom and promptly threw up.

  “Oh, man,” I groaned, not only out of sickness but also out of frustration.

  Friday’s were the busiest day of the week at the restaurant, and I literally could not afford to be sick tonight. Determined to get myself in good enough shape to work, I opened up the medicine cabinet and shuffled things around in search for some stomach medicine. It was then that I noticed the box of tampons, untouched and collecting dust.

  That’s weird, I thought. I bought those weeks ago. Four weeks ago, to be exact.

  My legs grew weak as panic settled into my heart, but I forced them to move towards my bedroom. I rushed over to my purse, seized my wallet, and pulled out my little packet of birth control. I examined the package carefully counting backward to double check that I’d taken the pill every single day, as I thought I had.

  I pulled in a long, calming breath as I saw that the packet checked out. I had taken every single one. My heart returned to its normal pace as I stuffed it back into my wallet and threw it into my purse. On impact, it hit the junk collected at the bottom, and that’s when I saw a faint glimmer of foil.

  With a trembling hand, I retrieved it and saw it was last month’s packet. My heart sank to my feet at the sight of a single white pill, still waiting there for me.

  “God, no!” I cried, frantically swallowing the pill as if that would do any good. What were the chances? What would missing that one, little, lonesome pill actually do?

  I didn’t know, but I had to.

  Knowing that I would be late for my shift anyways, I made a detour to the local pharmacy. Completely paranoid, I kept glancing over my shoulder, watching to see if anyone saw me purchasing the dreaded pregnancy test, but luckily, no one seemed to care. Since there was no bathroom at the pharmacy, I had to take it to work.

  My boss was not mad at my tardiness. I was a good employee and was almost never late. Ha. Ha. Never late. Not until freaking today.

  He also didn’t mind when, after clocking in, I rushed immediately to the bathroom. I completed the test and then sat there, waiting, waiting, watching the timer on my cell phone clicking down. And while I waited, I prayed.

  Please no… I thought. Please no.

  The timer on my phone binged. I closed my eyes and held the pregnancy test up at eye level.

  Open your eyes, Mary, I ordered myself, but my lids did not obey.

  Open them. Open them NOW!

  I opened them. It took several long seconds for my eyes to focus on that fateful, single word: “Pregnant.”

  I felt as if the floor had opened up beneath me, and everything, my whole world, fell into a terrible whirlpool that sucked me down, down, down into the darkness below.

  “It can’t be!” I cried and took another test.

  After waiting the assigned number of minutes, this one also read positive.

  “No, no, no, nonono,” I murmured again and again. The sound was a desperate, inhuman cry that reflected exactly how terrified I was. How could I have let myself be so stupid? How could that one little fuck up have backfired so terribly?

  In the middle of my indignation, anger blossomed within me. Why me? I thought. I knew so many girls who were careless with their birth control. They forgot to take their pills, gave up on condoms halfway through, or even relied on the simple “pulling out” method to prevent pregnancy, and they didn’t get pregnant. Then, there was me, good-girl Mary Taft, always so diligent, always so dutiful, who missed one freaking pill and ended up knocked up.

  The injustice of it all boiled inside and threatened to burst out in threats or tears, I didn’t know which.

  “Mary?” My boss’s voice mixed with the sound of a simple knock on the door. “Mary? Are you okay in there?”

  I opened my mouth, not knowing if I would cry or scream. What I managed was a hollow, damp sort of whisper, “Yes, yes, I’m fine.”

  After fixing my clothes and burying the pregnancy tests deep in the feminine hygiene box, I staggered out of the stall, washed my hands, and greeted my boss outside the door.

  “Jesus, Mary, you look terrible.” He gasped at my pale, red-eyed form. “Were you sick in there?”

  “No, I…” I faltered. “I just…needed a few minutes, you know?”

  He was not convinced. With eyes brimming with concern, he touched my shoulder and said, “Look, why don’t you go home? I don’t think it’ll be too busy tonight, and the other girls would surely appreciate your share in the tips.”

  “No, thank you, Dave,” I murmured back, not quite meeting his eyes. “I really would rather work…you know, stay busy and all.”

  He gazed at me, with the steady, penetrating look of someone who definitely sensed that something was up. However, he also seemed to realize that distracting myself and focusing on the banality of work, might help with my grievances.

  “Okay,” he relented at last. “But if you feel ill, need a break or anything like that, you let me know. Got it?”

  I nodded and thanked him for his understanding. Then, I tied my apron around my waist and threw myself into my work. I concentrated on the orders as I had never concentrated before, and somehow, everything else was blotted from my mind.

  Chapter 7

  As soon as I had a minute to spare between customers, I texted Jesse. The message was simple: we need to talk. I knew such aggressiveness and acuity only days before he was bound to leave would probably make him nervous, but that was okay. Nervousness was exactly what the two of us should be feeling.

  The rest of my shift passed in a blur. I made great tips, which sort of made up for the rocky start of my day. Once my shift ended, I called Jesse, and he picked me up and drove me to the hotel. Although this had become a standard custom between us over the past couple of months, tonight the atmosphere between us was completely different.

  Instead of being just two people who wanted to have sex, we were two people bound to have a serious discussion and, as such, we were quiet and stiff around each other. Every once in a while, I made sure to smile at Jesse or touch his knee. I wanted to show him that I wasn’t mad at him, but at the same time, I couldn’t bring myself to have a normal conversation when the weight of the news I had to give him was hanging over my head.

  “All right, Mary, what’s up?” he asked as soon as the door of his hotel room closed behind him.

  Until that point, I had been stoic, brave. However, at the sight of him standing there, looking adorable in his white T and faded jeans, all my strength left me. Tears sprang unbidden from my eyes, and my knees fell out from under me. I would’ve hit the floor if Jesse had not rushed forward and caught me just in time.

  “What is it,
Mary?” he implored, stroking the back of my head. “What’s wrong?”

  “I…” I stammered, too overcome to speak. “I’m…”

  “Yes? What is it? You can tell me, baby.”

  I don’t know where the strength to finally tell him came from. Perhaps he was lending it to me, transferring it through his embrace, or maybe it was from the tender way he had said the word baby. Either way, I found the courage to push him away and hold his gaze with mine.

  “Jesse,” I started in a shaky voice and sighed. “I’m pregnant.”

  At first, he smiled as if I were joking. His eyes widened expectantly as if waiting for me to shout, “Gotcha!” but I just continued to gaze at him. My eyes brimmed with sadness, fear, and perhaps, just a little bit of hope.

  “Jesus,” he exhaled after a couple of minutes and sagged onto the bed—the same bed that was the culprit of our current predicament.

  For a moment, I wondered why I had to pay such a high price for the fun and pleasure we found with each other. However, before I could arrive at a solution, Jesse spoke again.

  “Are you sure?”

  I sighed and sat down beside him. “I’ve taken two tests. I have a doctor’s appointment set up for next week, but I’m pretty sure. It’s hard to explain, but my body feels different.”

  He nodded a few times. Then, in a voice that sounded almost afraid, he asked, “What are you going to do?”

  “I’m not sure,” I admitted. “I guess that’s why I’m talking to you.”

  Jesse put his arm around me and, for several minutes, we just sat in silence. As I waited for his response, a million different thoughts and fears crowded my mind. Would he ask me to get rid of it? Would he stay with me, or would he abandon me to my own devices? How much did an abortion cost? Could I afford it? Could I afford not to afford it?

  As the questions kept twirling inside my head, I realized that everything depended on Jesse’s next move. With anticipation pulsing off me in waves, I watched as he opened his mouth, but he did not say anything. Instead, he laughed.

  It was just the slightest chuckle at first, small enough almost to be mistaken for a clearing of the throat or a cough. However, in a matter of seconds it grew to a giggle, and then to a full-out laugh.

  I was disturbed. It was not the laughter of someone who sensed something funny. It was the laughter of someone who’d gone insane.

  “Do you know why…” he said as he wiped tears from his eyes and struggled to catch his breath. “Do you know why your brother hates me so much?”

  My eyes narrowed. “I assumed it was because you’re successful and he’s not.”

  The laughter diminished. Now it sounded almost like a sob.

  “That’s part of it, yes,” he murmured. “But it’s not the worst of it. The night he was arrested, I was there too. We had both been drinking, we were both high, and I was the one who wanted to get fast food. Fucking chili cheese fries. A whole life ruined for fucking chili cheese fries.”

  Jesse huffed as he continued, “I made him drive. He was always a better driver—he was always better at everything. School. Football. Life in general. He thrived, and I sucked.” He shook his head and took a deep breath. “Anyways, I asked him to drive and didn’t think anything of it. I didn’t realize that, by making him drive, I was shunting the responsibility on his shoulders and taking it off mine.”

  “I know all this,” I interrupted. “I know you were out with Bill that night. Everyone does. What does this have to do with anything?”

  He closed his eyes in a grimace. There was no laughter in him now. No sobbing either. Now, his voice was as tender and naked as exposed flesh on a winter’s night.

  “It has to do with me being in the car when Bill crashed it,” he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper.

  “What do you mean?” I demanded. “It was just him and your ex-girlfriend in the car. They were the ones who got arrested.”

  “Yes, they were,” Jesse said in a sad tone. “But I was with them. No one ever wondered why Elizabeth was sitting in the backseat, but I was the reason. I was seated in the passenger seat, and somehow during the investigation, no one thought to ask why the passenger seat was empty.”

  The truth was beginning to dawn on me, but I did not want to face it. “What are you talking about?”

  “I was riding with them when he crashed the car,” he explained the obvious, and my heart ached at the pain in his voice. “At first we were just three happy, innocent, stupid shit kids, driving along at ninety miles per hour. And then…boom!

  “None of us saw the car abandoned on the side of the road until Bill hit it. Then, the airbags deployed and we were all knocked out. I was the first to come to, and I checked both Bill and Liz to see if they were breathing. They were, but they were also reeking of alcohol. As drunk as I was, I knew he was fucked. Liz was the second to come around, but she was really groggy. I tried to reach back and help her, but then I heard the sirens.”

  His head fell to his hands. It was as if every word he spoke was drawn out of him like vials of blood.

  “I didn’t know what to do,” he said with embarrassment laced with his words. “I tried to free Liz and wake your brother up, but I couldn’t. The police were getting closer, and I panicked. So, just before the cops arrived, I left the two of them there and ran.”

  A single tear fell from my eyes. I waited in silence for Jesse to continue and when he finally did, his voice faltered.

  “I ran,” he cried. “I opened the door and ran. I hid in the woods and watched as the cops and an ambulance arrived. They took Elizabeth out and then arrested your brother. I thought about jumping out, telling them I was there too, but I couldn’t see what good it would have done so I didn’t. I just waited there, like a coward, as your brother’s life was ruined because of my stupid fries.” He looked away from me and curled his shoulders as if trying to make himself look as small as he felt. “Now, have the career, the money, the success… Everything he deserved, I got as a reward for my cowardice. And let me tell you, there’s not a day that goes by that I don’t regret that moment.”

  His speech was finished, but still, I did not reply or tried to comfort him. I did not know what to think, and at that moment, I saw my brother, sitting alone at the house, drowning himself in liquor and video games because Jesse left him in his time of need.

  Like a ghost, my brother’s voice warning me that Jesse couldn’t be trusted returned to haunt me. My stomach knotted with fear that he would do that to our child and me. As much as I tried not to, in my mind’s eye, I saw him leaving me alone and pregnant, and I have to admit it was one of the lowest points of my life.

  I closed my eyes to escape that cruel reality as a tear fell from my face. Just as I was about to give into despair, Jesse took my hand in his and brought it to his lips. His usually strong and sturdy hands trembled in a way that made me open my eyes and look at him.

  He smiled at me, and when he finally spoke, I did not hear weakness in his voice, only determination. “I ran away once,” he said, squeezing my hand hard. “I’m not going to do it again. I’m going to own up to my responsibilities and take care of you—of both of you. I’ll do whatever it takes to keep you safe. I…I love you.”

  With happy and relieved tears in my eyes, I wrapped my arms around Jesse and held him close. I could tell how much it pained him to admit all this to me. He was a man who had created an image of someone powerful, unstoppable, unafraid, and I felt honored that he was sharing his shame and torment with me.

  My whole life had been spent forgiving people. I forgave my brother for his tantrums and his helplessness. I forgave my parents for being so careless and leaving Bill and me alone in the world. And now I found myself in a position to forgive Jesse, the man I loved, and though it was hard, I decided I could do it.

  Does that make me a good person or a weak one? I thought, and this time, I decided it made me a good one.

  I curled my arms around him in a tight embrace, and together
we sank down onto the bed. Lying side by side, we held each other close, comforting the other’s fears—of the future, of the past—deep into the night.

  Chapter 8

  For several glorious seconds, after I woke up the next morning, I didn’t remember the problems of the night before. All I knew was that I was in bed with Jesse, naked and curled up beside him, feeling physically and emotionally content.

  Then, reality crashed down upon me, and for the first time in about five years, I called my boss and asked for the day off—which I was promptly given. I knew there was no ignoring the problems my pregnancy presented. I couldn’t will them away by throwing myself into my work, and therefore, Jesse and I had to figure out what to do.

  Eager to keep moving and give myself the impression of progress, I woke Jesse up and told him I wanted to go out to a diner for breakfast. Hey, if there’s ever a time a girl can eat a giant platter of bacon and eggs without feeling guilty, I figured it was while pregnant.

  Neither of us talked much as we went about our morning rituals. We showered, kissed, and got dressed, but we were both too absorbed in our own thoughts for much discourse. It wasn’t until the waitress had served us coffee that Jesse finally opened the conversation.

  “There’s something really bothering me in all this,” he said.

  “You mean other than the obvious things?” I commented sarcastically.

  He rolled his eyes and gave me a dry chuckle. “I’ve been thinking about Bill. He was so angry when he found out we were dating. Imagine how upset he’ll be when he finds out about the baby.”

  “I’m trying not to.” I sighed and dumped about eight packets of sugar into my coffee. “Who knows what he’ll do?”

  “We have to find some way to make it better,” Jesse said as his hand fell to the table. “I’ve ruined his life enough. I’ve given him a hundred reasons already to resent me—the crash, the fact that I got to play in college while he was doing time and the NFL. I don’t want to give him another one. I already miss my best friend enough as it is.”