Chapter 5

Noelle

Is it hot in here? I try to swallow, but there’s zero saliva in my mouth, and I grab a glass of water off the counter. I don’t even know who’s water I’ve grabbed. It’s probably my mother’s, and at this point I no longer care.

I need a moment to catch my breath.

I’ve only ever thought about being York’s real girlfriend my entire adult life. Now being asked to be his fake girlfriend has me all in my feels.

I set the glass down, and try to force a smile. “I guess?” I phrase it like a question. “There’s really no other option.”

I remember the anguish and stress my father faced last year when the team was painted in a bad light by the media. It took months and months of trying to rebuild their reputation. So, I get it.

This will only further enhance that reputation. Everyone does love a good holiday romance, even if it’s fake.

“There’s not. We’ll need to put out a press statement, and then we can go to a few outings around town to show you off as a couple.” My father’s a bit too happy about this whole idea.

I look to my mother, but she’s already onboard with my father’s idea, and honestly, if I get to hold York’s hand out in public, I’ll take it.

When will I ever get another chance like this in my lifetime? Um, never.

I glance around, taking in the familiar sights of home. The large wooden table, now set with my mother’s best china, is ready for the holiday feast. The fireplace crackles warmly in the corner, its mantle adorned with stockings and garlands. Despite the turmoil inside me, the scene is almost idyllic.

But the reality of the situation pulls me back. I’ve admired York from afar for so long, and now this bizarre opportunity is staring me in the face. It’s overwhelming. I look at York, standing by the window, his strong profile lit by the twinkling lights outside. Can I really go through with this?

York turns to me, his expression a mix of apology and determination. “Noelle, I promise I’ll do everything I can to make this as easy as possible for you.”

His words are comforting, but they also make my heart ache. This isn’t how I imagined us being together. But if it helps the team and my father, I have to give it my best shot. I nod, taking a deep breath.

“Okay, let’s do this.”

My father beams with a triumphant smile, his eyes sparkling with enthusiasm. "Great. I hate to ask this of you both, honestly, but I think it’ll be fun."

I blink at him, my expression frozen in disbelief as if he’s suddenly sprouted five heads. "Fun?" I echo, the word tasting bitter on my tongue as a pit of dread begins to form at the base of my stomach. I can’t fathom how he thinks this situation is anything close to fun.

He shrugs, his gray eyebrows arching high on his forehead as if to say, ‘Why not?’ and then he begins, "Well..." His voice trails off as he senses my growing discomfort.

Before he can find the right words, my mother jumps in, her voice soft but insistent. "What I think your father means is you should look at this not like a death sentence, but more like a game." She gives him a pointed look, nudging him with her elbow. "Isn’t that right, dear?"

"Absolutely," my father agrees, catching her cue. His enthusiasm returns, and he nods emphatically. "Nobody has to know it’s fake but us. I’m not asking you both to do anything you’re uncomfortable with—just some light hand-holding, maybe a quick peck on the cheek. Easy, and fun," he adds, as if it’s all so simple.

I steal a glance at York, my heart pounding as I search his face for any sign of what he’s truly feeling about this bizarre scheme. His expression is unreadable, calm as ever, until he finally speaks. "Anything for the good of the team," he says with a casual shrug, his tone light and agreeable.

But his words hit me like a punch to the gut, my heart sinking even though I know it shouldn’t. I’ve loved York for as long as I can remember—my entire adult life, at least. The idea of pretending to be his girlfriend should thrill me, should be the highlight of everything I’ve ever wanted. But instead, it feels like a cruel twist of fate, because deep down, I know there’s zero chance of me ever being his real girlfriend. It’s a sad reality, one I’ve come to terms with, but that doesn’t make this situation any less painful. Pretending to be his for a little while might be the closest I’ll ever get to what I’ve always dreamed of, and the thought of it being fake makes the ache in my chest even more unbearable.

However, I’m determined to enjoy myself. I have to, right? Even if this whole situation feels like an emotional minefield, I’m going to make the best of it—at least on the surface.

“When’s the first outing?” I ask, forcing a bright smile, my voice a little too chipper to be entirely genuine.

My mother’s eyes light up at my eagerness, and she glances toward the empty spot in the living room where our Christmas tree usually stands, a festive beacon of holiday cheer. “Well, we need a Christmas tree,” she says, her tone hopeful as she gestures toward the vacant space that suddenly feels glaringly empty without its usual adornment of twinkling lights and ornaments.

“Great,” I say, my smile widening as I decide to take charge of this strange, unexpected situation. I can do this. I’m going to throw myself into it with everything I’ve got, even if it means pretending for a little while longer. “I’m going to go get ready, and we can head out this afternoon.”

The words spill out of me with more confidence than I feel, but the idea of searching for a Christmas tree, something so normal and comforting, is enough to steady me. At least for now, I can focus on the simple joy of finding the perfect tree, even if everything else feels complicated.