Chapter 52: Fake Lover
Lara stood in front of Reagan’s door, her heart pounding so loud it echoed in her own ears.
She hadn't texted him. Hadn't informed him she was coming. She hadn't trusted herself not to chicken out or send some awkward half-explanation via text. It had to be in person.
Even if every fiber of her stomach twisted in knots.
Taking a deep breath, she reached out and pressed the doorbell.
A few seconds passed before the door swung open.
Reagan stood there, casually dressed in a black sleeveless shirt and gray sweatpants, hair slightly tousled as though he'd just gotten out of bed or finished a workout. For a brief second, her eyes—traitorous as ever—fell to his bare arms, catching the defined muscles flexing as he leaned against the door frame.
She blinked, internally scolding herself. Get it together, Lara. Now is not the time to get distracted!
She forced herself to focus, looking up at his face instead.
Surprised flickered across Reagan' face when he realized it was her, but his expression quickly softened.
"Lara," he said gently, stepping aside. "Hey. Come in."
She hesitated only a moment before nodding.
As she stepped inside, Reagan quietly bent down, pulled open the cabinet near the entryway, and took out a pair of soft pink slippers.
"Here," he said, placing them in front of her feet. "Wear these."
Lara blinked, surprised. "Oh... thanks."
She took off her shoes, then glanced at the slippers. They were plush, high-quality cotton. Did he always keep these at his place?
Deciding not to think much of it, she slid them on, the cotton felt warm and cozy.
"They're really soft," she murmured, smiling a bit.
Reagan smiled. "Glad they fit."
As they walked further inside, Reagan glanced at her. "You want something to drink?"
"No, I'm okay," she said quickly.
"You sure?"
She nodded, offering him a small smile. "Yeah. Thanks, though."
Reagan led her into the living room. He sank into the single couch while Lara sat stiffly on the long one, her knees pressed together.
Silence stretched between them.
Lara clasped her hands in her lap, searching for the right words. Then finally, she spoke.
"I'm sorry," she admitted, her voice quiet. "I've been avoiding you."
Reagan leaned back, resting his arm on the couch's armrest. His expression calm and steady. "I noticed," he said, but there was no trace of bitterness in his tone. "But I figured you needed space."
She swallowed, nodding. "I did. I just... I didn't know how to face you."
"It's fine, Lara," Reagan said gently. "I understand."
His patience made her chest tighten. She gave him a grateful smile.
Then she exhaled softly. "I actually came here to give you an answer. About... your offer."
Reagan's gaze sharpened slightly. He leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. "I'm listening."
Lara hesitated, choosing her words carefully. "I was initially going to reject your offer," she admitted. "I can't, in good conscience, use you like that. It felt wrong. I didn't want to drag you into my mess, especially when you—" her voice faltered slightly. "—you have feelings for me. It felt like I'd be taking advantage of you."
Reagan said nothing, his eyes steady on her.
"But..." she sighed, pressing her fingers together. "I spoke with my attorney yesterday and found out that Lucas is delaying the annulment."
Reagan's jaw tightened. "What?"
"I called him," Lara continued. "And he said he wanted a second chance." Lara let out a hollow laugh. "He wants three dates with me. He says that if, after those dates, I still want the annulment, he'll sign everything without any more delays."
Reagan's expression darkened.
"And out of anger, I told him I had feelings for someone else," she added, almost sheepishly. "I didn't plan to say that. It just... slipped out."
Reagan stilled. "You did?"
She nodded. "And he didn't believe me," she exhaled, running a hand through her hair. "He said I have to prove it. That if it's real, I should show it."
Reagan scoffed, shaking his head. "Your husband is a real piece of work." His voice was tight, controlled, but Lara could see the frustration simmering beneath the surface.
"I didn't want to drag you into this mess," she said, her voice trembling slightly. "I swear I didn't. But Lucas forced my hand. If I don't prove I've moved on, he'll keep clinging to me like this, and I just... I can't let him do that."
Without hesitation, Reagan reached for her hands, his grip firm and grounding.
"It's alright, Lara," he said softly. "I was the one who offered to be your fake lover in the first place. I knew exactly what I was getting into. You don't have to feel guilty. This isn't you using me. I want to do this. For you."
She looked up at him, still uncertain. "Are you really sure about this?" she asked, searching his face. "I don't want to hurt you or get you tangled in something messy."
Reagan's lips curved into a slight smile. He squeezed her hands lightly. "I've never been more sure about anything in my life."
Her lips parted slightly, touched by his sincerity. Her heart fluttered—confused, conflicted—but grateful.
"Thank you, Reagan," she whispered. "Really."
They sat there for a moment, their hands still clasped, before Reagan finally spoke again.
"So," he said, tilting his head slightly. "shall we talk about the terms of our arrangement?"
Lara let out a soft, breathy laugh. "Terms? That sounds so... formal."
"Well," Reagan smirked. "If I'm going to be your fake lover, we should set some rules, don't you think?"
Lara nodded slowly, collecting her thoughts. "Alright. First... this arrangement ends the moment the annulment is finalized."
Reagan nodded. "Fair enough."
"Second," she continued, "we have to be convincing. Lucas isn't going to believe it unless we..." she hesitated, feeling awkward, "... act like an actual couple."
Reagan arched a brow, amused. "Are you saying I get to touch you, Lara?"
She flushed. "I mean, small gestures. Holding hands. You know, stuff real couples do in public. But we'll just keep it minimal. Just enough to make it believable if Lucas or anyone else is watching."
Reagan's lips curve up into a playful smirk. "Define minimal."
Lara narrowed her eyes at him. "What do you mean?"
"I'm just trying to understand the scope of my responsibilities here," he said. Then, with a teasing glint in his eye, he added, "So... does kissing count as minimal?"
Lara blinked, caught off guard. "K-Kissing?" she stammered, cheeks turning red. "Well..." she muttered. "Maybe... on the cheek. Or forehead. But only if the situation absolutely requires it."
"Hmm," Reagan hummed, leaning back, arms crossed as he studied her with visible amusement. "Got it. Situational kisses. Very professional."
Lara groaned softly, covering her face for a second. "Can you not make it sound so ridiculous?"
He chuckled softly. "I'm just teasing you, Lara."
She glanced at him through her fingers, trying not to smile.
"But on a more serious note," Reagan added, his tone turned more thoughtful. "How about I start picking you up from work? Maybe even drop you off, too."
Lara blinked. "Are you sure? That's a lot of time and effort..."
Reagan shrugged. "I don't mind. Besides, it wouldn't hurt for Lucas to hear you're getting picked up by a man he doesn't particularly like," he said smoothly. "In fact, I'm actually looking forward to seeing his reaction."
Lara couldn't help but laugh. "You're enjoying this a little too much."
He chuckled. "Can you blame me? It's not every day I get to be a fake lover to the woman I actually like."
Lara's breath caught in her throat.
Her eyes met his, uncertain. Her heart thundered in her chest, unsure how to respond—whether to acknowledge what he'd just said, or pretend it was all part of the act.
But Reagan just smiled, gentle and patient. "Relax, Lara," he said softly. "We'll make this work. And when Lucas finally lets you go..."
His voice dipped, steady and sincere. "Perhaps, I won't have to pretend anymore."