Playing Pretend

The Ring

The evening Clarence and I broke up, I made sure I removed every single trace of him in my apartment and in my social media accounts as to avoid future stalking and trigger unwanted flashbacks. Being the strong independent individual that I was who was highly disciplined and in control of her body and emotions, I was determined to let him go and start moving on. In any case, it was the perfect time to start fresh and put all the pain and past behind.

The next day I found myself foolishly waiting for his I-was-wrong-let's-get-back-together reply to my I-missed-you-can-we-talk message so I deleted his phone number altogether. Unfortunately, like other obsessed girlfriends, I had his number embedded in my mind and heart. I shut my phone and dumped it somewhere behind my bookshelf to refrain myself from drunk texting him. Genius that I was, I forgot that it's a necessary tool to get updates from co-workers and juicy gossip from friends to keep up with the day.

Which is why I find myself, oblivious and confused, in the middle of the office filled with balloons, confetti, cheerful people and a banner that says "Congratulations, Lexie!" on Friday morning.

It takes me a full minute to realize that the rumours of my fake engagement have circulated the office in the most alarming way: Facebook. And as you know, I do not have access to it at the moment. Everybody seems so interested to get a glimpse of my engagement ring but are disappointment at the sight of my bare hand.

Let's backtrack a little from last night to give you a full understanding of the situation.

You see when Tristan pulled Andrew for a little chit-chat, Tristan, being impulsive as he is, decided that he was surprise-proposing to me. With our clothes that matched the occasion and the obvious fact that I played hooky that day, he figured it's the best excuse to give. Since it's a special occasion and it would hold Tristan responsible for coaxing me to leave my apartment where I should've been recovering from my illness.

To pay my respect and admiration, I raised both of my hands and bowed down to his impeccable ability to lie. Not bad, really, for someone I thought I couldn't trust. Hated to admit it, but it looked like he just saved my ass, for real this time.

Later that night before dropping me home, another idea popped into Tristan's brilliant and non-bleeding head. He started off explaining to me that he was the only heir to a multi-million company.

Ever heard of Pacific International? Yeah, that international cruise line with about nine cruise ships, each including an Olympic-sized pool, a rock climbing area, an ice skating rink, a casino, an arcade and a library, built to redefine cruise vacationing experience.

I know. My jaw dropped too when he disclosed this to me. Now close your mouth.

True enough and unfortunately, Tristan Scott was the sole inheritor of that company. The sister he mentioned last night, together with his mom, died in a plane crash about a couple years ago while his dad just died from heart attack recently. Poor guy.

Anyway, it was mentioned in his father's will that he would have his shares of the company and become CEO, granted that the boards trust him. The thing was, they didn't. He was young and exhibited offensive actions that question his ability to handle a big commitment and stick to it. Unless he proved to them that he was a changed man capable of commitment, he wouldn't get the company. But of course, our golden boy was determined to get the inheritance that also served as his only tangible memory of his family.

And what best way to prove a person's ability to commit but to get married, right? That's the reason his loyal secretaries and lawyers have been desperately shoving girls unto him that would make a good partner for Tristan. Tristan, on the other hand, had tried being in relationships way before this whole situation occurred and have observed that he screwed it up all the time. With the company on the line and the larger commitments that marriage and these girls from rich families could offer to him, he felt more pressured and believed that he was most likely to fail.

This was where I entered the picture. He suggested that I would play his fake fiancée as he would feel less pressured as there wouldn't be any business ties between him and my family. And of course, the one that actually hurt me a bit, was that he wouldn't have to bother about liking or impressing me.

My hand automatically flew up and met his face.

"Aw!"

I snickered as I saw him flinch.

"I'm sorry. I saw a mosquito landed on your face."

Truthfully, I was not sorry. My beautiful damn self deserved more than just to play the fake fiancée. I have a gorgeous set of eyes, am amazing smile, and a body that was toned in a way I've been told that looks deadly and scorching. I had an awesome personality and the brains to back it up. I am outstanding in bed and I am capable of becoming a mother. I was girlfriend and wife material. If there's any role in a wedding that I truly deserve, that should be the bride.

At this point, I wasn't sure if I was bitter towards Tristan or Clarence.

"So, can I count you on it, Mrs. Scott?"

He flashes a smile, raising both brows in excitement.

I rejected the offer as I refuse to be involved with any of his life's complications even after he tried saving my life and career. My life was stressful enough. I didn't see any reason why I should add more to that. If he needed a person who'll hand him another roll of tissue paper when he ran out of it, I'll be that person. But to be his fake fiancée was too much.

Tristan insisted on giving his business card anyway for me to call if I ever changed my mind. His name was embossed on the piece of paper in glistening, gold letters. Below it are his number, Facebook account, and the name Pacific International. I crumpled the business card and tossed it in the trash right after he left.

Now, where was I?

Right. Let's go back to my bare hand.

With my conscience whispering in my ear, I have the sudden urge to take back the rumour and make up a story of how I rejected the poor guy's proposal of marriage. But as soon as I open my mouth, I hear Andrew San - demonster from a distance dropping statements such as "She's probably ashamed at how little the diamond is." and "... or maybe, the guy presented a pre-nup agreement after asking her and that's why she gave the ring back" followed by a raucous laughter.

I open my mouth in shock, amazed at how far Andrew would go just to bring me down. That fucker announced my engagement to the whole world himself, like I gave him the permission to do that. And now that same fucker is making fun of me and giving people the idea that I am a horrible person. What an ass.

If there's one thing that I hate the most is when people spread unrealistic rumours to ruin someone's reputation. In high school, Jimmy Richmond from Junior Year spread rumours about me letting him take my virginity at the backstage of the school auditorium just because I refused to go all the way. People started calling me 'slut' and 'easy' as if I had been so easily 'conquered'. It wasn't true, of course. And boy, I did not let him get away with it.

During our gym class, I, together with what was left of my friends, pulled Jimmy's pants during our dodge ball rally. A mixture of shock and disappointment could be heard as we gasped at the revelation that unfolded in front of our naked eyes.

"Was your virginity ever taken away if a dick is as small as a needle? I say no." I announced as my victory pushed the douche bag to run for the nearest exit.

With a brow raised and a sardonic smile, I meet Andrew's eyes. The nerve of this misogynistic ass to smile back pisses me even more.

"I'm not really used to wearing jewellery so it's in its box at home. Besides, I'm also taking good care of it as it probably costs more than the money in your bank account. If you like, I'll show it to you first thing Monday morning." I continue, still looking him dead in the eye. "But of course, I'm sure you can't wait so I'll just upload photos from our engagement over the weekend."

"Awesome."

He grins like a fucking idiot.

Zach, smelling very nicely today, pulls me aside to ask what is going on.

"I will be explaining to you in a minute, but first, can I use your phone to access my Facebook account? I need to contact someone."