The Perfect Illusion

by Winter Renshaw

  My heart quickens, and I swallow the nervous lump in my throat.

  It’s just the two of us on this beach—at least for now.

  This is my chance.

  It’s now or never.

  Spotting a couple more shells, I bend to pick them up, biding my time as he grows near. The sea laps across the shore, washing the sticky sand from the soles of my feet, but I feel nothing.

  “Mari,” he says, breathless as he stops before me. He places two fingers against his neck, his bare chest glistening with a light sheen of sweat and sea mist. “What are you doing up so early?”

  “Wanted to take a walk,” I say, smiling. The words are right there, on the tip of my tongue, and it’s all I can do to keep from blurting them all out at once. A big string of word vomit that’ll forever change this man’s life.

  Or maybe not.

  I’ve tried to get to know Alec these last couple of days, and I still feel like I’m barely scratching the surface.

  He seems nice. That’s about all I’ve gathered.

  “I’m going to head in, hit the shower,” he says after an awkward minute of silence. “See you at breakfast?”

  He gives a quick wave before jogging off toward the house, and I watch my opportunity pass me by.

  “Alec, wait,” I call after him, my voice carried off by a breeze.

  He doesn’t hear me, so I chase after him.

  “Alec,” I say again, louder this time.

  He turns, slowing down, but he’s still walking. We’re maybe fifty, sixty feet from the back of the house at most.

  “I have to tell you something,” I say, slightly winded.

  “What’s up?”

  He forges ahead with long strides, not stopping. The house grows closer.

  There’s no easy way to do this, so I decide to just put it out there. “I’m pregnant.”

  I expected him to stop, but he keeps walking. I don’t know if he heard me.

  “I’m pregnant,” I say again.

  We approach the back steps to the wraparound deck and he climbs them two at a time.

  “Alec, say something,” I say, nearly pleading.

  He stops, turning to me. “Congratulations?”

  “Are you asking me or telling me?”

  “Is that why you and Hudson are in such a hurry to get married?” He laughs. “God, you guys, it’s not the fifties.”

  “The baby’s yours.” I cross my arms over my chest, looking away.

  “Wait … what?”

  Glancing up, I take a deep breath. “You know that one-night stand we had? Where you used a fake name and then deleted your Tinder profile?”

  My hand moves to my lower belly, his moves to his sweaty mop of sandy blond hair.

  “Fuck,” he says, his eyes flicking from mine to my stomach and back. “How far along are you?”

  “Almost nine weeks,” I say.

  He takes a step closer to me. “What are you going to do about it?”

  I scoff. “What am I going to do about it? What? Like this is my problem?”

  “Your body, your choice,” he says, and my defensiveness ratchets down a notch. “I mean, are you going to, you know, take care of it?”

  “Take care of it as in raise it? Or take care of it as in …?”

  He inhales, glancing over my shoulder toward the water. Dragging his hands down his face, he turns back to me.

  “I don’t want to be a dad, Mari,” he says. “At least not at this point in my life. And not in this way. And no offense, but not with you. You’re engaged to my fucking best friend.”

  “Well, I’m keeping it,” I say. “If you don’t want to be a part of the baby’s life, that’s your choice.”

  “Don’t say it like that.”

  “Like what?”

  “Like I’m some piece of shit, deadbeat dad.”

  “You’re certainly not father of the year.”

  “We used a condom,” he says. “And you said you were on the pill.”

  “We did. And I was.” I shrug. “Shit happens.”

  “How do you know it’s mine?”

  My blood heats beneath my skin. “Are you fucking serious, Alec?”

  “I didn’t mean it like that.”

  My eyes water. God damn it. Pregnancy hormones.

  “You’re saying all the things I hoped you weren’t going to say.” I wipe away a fat, soggy tear before it has the chance to roll down my ruddy, wind-burned cheeks.

  His hands fall to his sides. “What did you expect me to say? Let’s raise the baby like some happy fucking family and live happily ever after?”

  “No!” I raise my voice. “Just … don’t be a douche about it.”

  “Tell me what you want me to say, Mari.”

  “Just say you’ll be there if I need you. And that you’d love to be a part of the baby’s life,” I say. “This baby … it’s half yours. And I don’t want it to grow up thinking it wasn’t wanted or constantly feeling this void in his heart when he wonders why his father never came around.”

  “It’s a boy?”

  “I don’t know,” I scoff at him, looking away. “It’s too fucking early to tell.”

  “I don’t know anything about babies or pregnancy or any of that shit,” he says.

  “And you think I do?”

  “I wouldn’t know the first thing about how to be there for you through this, Mari.”

  “Just decide if you want to be involved and we can figure everything else out later,” I huff. I’m so fucking annoyed with him right now. “I’m kind of taking things one day at a time anyway. I have no clue what I’m doing. And aside from my best friend, you’re the only other person who knows about the baby now.”

  “I fucking knew it.” The Potomac Ice Princess appears at the railing, her arms resting on the ledge as she wears a proud smirk. “I knew you were fucking pregnant. But my brother? Now that’s a plot twist I didn’t see coming.”

  She moves to the stairs, taking them one at a time as she comes closer.

  “Brilliant, Mari. Really. Get my brother to knock you up, get Hudson to raise it as his,” she says. “Talk about a lifetime of financial security.”

  “It’s nothing like that,” I say, lips curling into a sneer. My hand grips the railing to keep me from ripping her hair out extension by extension.

  “Don’t say anything to Hudson,” Alec says, turning to his sister. “We’re still trying to figure this out.”

  Her mouth pulls at the sides and she lifts her hands to her lips. “Wait, what? Hudson doesn’t know about this?”

  Fuck, fuck, fuck.

  Pushing past the two of them, I head inside to find Hudson.

  I have to tell him first.

  I have to tell him before Audrina does.

  Chapter 28

  Hudson

  I slide a chamois across the hood of my father’s ’64 Alfa Romeo Giulietta. It’s always been my favorite of all his classic cars, something about it evoking the feel of simpler times. Timeless style. Uncommon goodness. It’s flashy without being over the top, and sexy without being in-your-face.

  The design is perfection.

  Second to none.

  This thing is freshly washed, waxed, and detailed, and as soon as I catch up with Mari, I’ll see if she wants to take it for a drive. We could head into town to a little coffee shop for breakfast then I could show her some more of the sights up here.

  “Hudson?” I hear her call my name from the garage entrance. “You out here?”

  “Over here.”

  Quick footsteps pad across the concrete toward the driveway, and she stops at the trunk of the car, like she’s afraid to come closer.

  “What’s up?” I lean against the door, tossing the chamois over my right shoulder. Her eyes are misty, bloodshot. “God, Mari. Everything okay?”

  Biting her lip, she hesitates before shaking her head. “No.”

  I study her face. She studies mine.

  “Did something happen? Did someone hur
t you?” I go to her, sliding my hands down her arms. She’s cold, which makes sense. She said she was going for a walk on the beach earlier.

  “I have to tell you something.” Her words are steady and send a heaviness to my heart. “And before I tell you, you should know that I’m sorry. And if I could change things, I would. I’d take it back.”

  My stomach is tied in knots. “It has to do with Alec, doesn’t it? Something happened with him? You kissed him?”

  Her eyes close for a few beats, her lower lip trembling.

  “I knew it. You like him,” I say.

  She shakes her head. “Not quite.”

  I half-laugh. “What do you mean, not quite?”

  “I knew him before this trip,” she says slowly. “We met a couple of months ago. Back in New York. We hooked up. Once. It was just a one-night thing.”

  I drag my hand along my jaw, brows furrowed as I listen.

  “It didn’t mean anything,” she says. “But then …”

  “Then what?” I don’t fucking have all day, and knowing she’s about to drop some sort of bombshell on me tightens my body and shortens my fuse. “Get on with it.”

  “I … somehow … we got pregnant.” Her expression freezes as she waits for my reaction, but all I feel is numb.

  And it’s not the good kind of numb this time.

  It’s the kind of numbness I’ve known for the better part of the last decade, the kind that turns my heart to ice and convinces my head not to give a shit about any of the women who flit in and out of my life.

  “When did you know?” I ask, chest feeling as if it’s about to implode.

  “About a month ago?” She winces, looking up at me. “Before I signed the contract.”

  Blowing a breath past tight lips, I take a step back and run my fingers through my hair, tugging on the ends.

  “Seriously?” I ask. “Seriously, Mari? You didn’t think that maybe, just maybe you should’ve told me that you were fucking pregnant before you agreed to marry me?!”

  “In my defense, you were extremely persistent, and what do you expect is going to happen when you wave five million dollars in front of a single pregnant lady?”

  “So it’s my fault that you lied?”

  “No. It’s your fault that I couldn’t say no. I literally couldn’t say not to that, Hudson. Who would?” she asks. “But it’s my fault that I lied. And I’m sorry. And I’m telling you now.”

  “So Audrina was right.” I huff, peering out toward the manicured hedges and shaking my head. It all makes sense now … Mari not touching booze, her breasts getting bigger, all of it.

  From the corner of my eye, I watch as Mari dabs the tears streaking down her cheek with the back of her hand. Her shoulders shake and she exhales as the two of us marinate in this new reality. Then without saying a word, she slides the diamond ring off her finger and places it gently on the trunk of my father’s car before heading inside.

  She’s leaving.

  And I’m not going to try and stop her.

  Chapter 29

  Mari

  I tug the zipper around my suitcase with all the strength I have. There are still five inches until it’s fully closed, but this thing won’t budge. It’s too full.

  My eyes burn and sting and tears cloud my vision, but I’m not giving up.

  I’ve already called a cab. My things are ninety-five percent packed. I’m leaving.

  The jig is up.

  It’s over.

  Just like I expected, this entire thing exploded in our faces.

  I never should’ve agreed. I should’ve gone with my gut on this and not my money-blinded brain.

  Something shiny catches my eye, and as I glance down, I realize I’m still wearing that Cartier love bracelet.

  Hudson has the key.

  A swift knock at the door startles my tears away temporarily, and in a flash of a second, I imagine it’s Hudson, coming to talk me out of leaving. Telling me we can make it work anyway. Then I realize it’s not going to happen. He didn’t chase after me when I left the garage earlier, and if he didn’t want me to go, he’d have stopped me by now.

  “Maribel, are you in there?” It’s Helena.

  “Just a second,” I call, running to the bathroom to splash cold water on my face. When I return, she’s standing in the middle of the room, worrying her bottom lip.

  “There’s a cab here for you.” She steps closer. “I didn’t know you were leaving. Is everything all right? What happened?”

  Helena’s kindness hits me in the feels. I’m going to miss her hospitality, and I’m going to miss the fact that I never really got to know her as well as I’d hoped.

  “The engagement is off,” I say.

  Her expression darkens. “What? Why? Did Hudson do something?”

  I shake my head. “No. He didn’t do anything.”

  She places her delicate hand over her chest. “I’m confused. You two seemed so happy together.”

  “It’s a long story. Maybe Hudson can fill you in?” I peer out the window, but I can’t see the circle drive from this side of the house. I muster every last reserve of strength I have and pull the suitcase zipper the rest of the way shut before forcing a meek smile. “I probably shouldn’t keep the cab waiting. I’m sure the meter’s running.”

  Yanking the suitcase off the bed, I wheel it to the door. I’m leaving several things here. Shoes, purses, Chanel dresses that have no business hanging in some closet in Orchard Hill, Nebraska …

  “Sweetheart,” Helena says, following me. She places her hand on my back, but I can’t bear to turn around and look at her. “I have no idea what’s going on with you two, but whatever it is, it can be fixed. And if it can’t be fixed, well, we can always sweep it under the rug.” She chuckles softly. “Regardless, all I know is that you make my son happy. Happier than I’ve seen him in years. After Audrina broke his heart in college, I didn’t think he’d ever be the same after that. And he wasn’t. She ruined him. She broke his spirit. Until you.”

  Turning to face her, I have to know. “Audrina … broke up with him?”

  Helena nods. “Yes. They dated all through college. Very seriously. They were going to get married, until she cheated on him with one of his best friends. After that, he was hell bent on getting back at her any way he could. I have to admit, as shocked as I was when I found out he was marrying you, all I could think was that I was glad he wouldn’t be marrying her. I know she’s Cybil’s daughter and all, but she doesn’t deserve my son. Not after what she did to him.”

  “Wait.” I can’t breathe. The room tilts and spins as I wrap my head around this. “So you never expected him to marry her?”

  Her face twists in confusion. “What are you talking about, dear?”

  He lied.

  Hudson lied.

  He lied to me from the very beginning.

  There was no arranged marriage bullet he was trying to dodge.

  He wanted revenge.

  He wanted to hurt Audrina.

  And he used me to do it.

  My chest stings more than I thought it would. There may as well be an arrow piercing my heart. I liked him. I really did.

  And to think, for a minute there, I almost believed this fake little arrangement was turning into something real.

  Chapter 30

  Hudson

  “What’s this I hear about Mari leaving?” Cybil breaks the awkward silence at the lunch table. “That can’t be true. She’s been having a ball since she got here.”

  No one answers.

  The clink of glassware and silver fills the silence.

  I stare at the steaming bowl of seafood chowder before me, unable to touch it, my fist clenched hard around my spoon.

  “Is she okay?” Cybil won’t drop it, but I’m not surprised. She’s nosier than she is compassionate. “Did she have a family emergency?”

  Audrina sighs. “Hudson found out that Alec knocked Mari up.”

  A hush falls over the table.


  Alec chokes on his ice water.

  “Audrina,” Cybil scolds her with her name. “It’s not nice to make things up.”

  “It’s the truth.” Audrina smirks. “I knew she was hiding something. Nobody would listen to me. You were all Maribel this and Maribel that, like she was the second coming of Christ.”

  “Audrina.” Duke coughs her name. “That’s enough.”

  “God, I’m so sick of you people and your delusions.” Her voice escalates. “And I’m tired of no one ever listening to me.”

  “Hudson, is this true?” My mother bats her eyes at me, and the entire table stares in my direction.

  I drop my spoon, pushing my chair away from the table and tossing my unused napkin over my untouched soup before bolting for the door.

  I need air.

  I need to get away from these people.

  Slamming the sliding door behind me, I move to the corner of the deck farthest away from the dining room. Resting my hands on the railing, I close my eyes and take a deep breath.

  Mari left an hour ago, and I feel her absence in every part of me. More than I expected to. More than I thought I would.

  The sound of the door sliding open and shut pulls me out of my moment.

  “When are you going to realize I’m the only woman that’s ever going to be right for you?” Audrina’s voice is nails on a chalkboard. I refuse to look at her. “We were young back then, Hudson. We were just kids. I made a mistake. A horrible, selfish mistake. But I never stopped loving you. And you never stopped loving me.”

  “Wrong,” I say, teeth gritting. “I stopped loving you the day I walked in on you fucking my best friend in our bed.”

  “I’ve told you a million times, I wish I could go back and change that, but I can’t.” She whines like a demanding little toddler when she speaks, causing my grip to squeeze the railing harder.

  “Go away, Audrina.”

  “Not until you look at me.”

  I shake my head once, jaw clenched as I watch the waves. Normally I find peace in them, but today they’re particularly tumultuous.

  “Because of you,” I say, lock-jawed. “I haven’t been able to trust anyone else. I haven’t been able to love anyone else. I’ve spent almost an entire decade cheating myself out of the kind of happiness I deserved.” Finally, I face her. “Now get out of my fucking face, you avaricious little whore.”