Playing Pretend by Cassie-Ann L. Miller

Fifty-Two

Eliza

I paceall twelve square feet of my family’s tiny kitchen, every step revealing things to tidy up and organize.

I pick up some dirty baby bottles, depositing them into the sink. I fold the thin kitchen towel that’s strewn across the counter and drape it over the oven handle. I wipe crumbs from this morning’s breakfast off the counter using the sink rag. I manage to do all that, while gripping a dirty cup in the crook of my elbow and a stack of newspapers in one hand.

I’m sure I look like a rabid squirrel with monkey-brain with the way I’m flittering around.

Who’s freaking the fuck out right now? This girl.

My mind is absolutely racing, my heart thumping wildly in my chest. If I sit down, I’m afraid it’ll explode.

Liam stands in the archway, one shoulder leaned against the doorframe, watching me with concern on his brow. “Eliza—I’m tired of you keeping me in the dark. What’s going on here?” he demands finally.

I suck in a shaky breath, avoiding his impatient stare, but I feel it on the side of my face. “Nothing,” I lie as I store the orange juice and a bunch of other stuff back in the fridge, but it comes out all pitchy and wrong.

Liam follows me across the room. His warm, comforting palms cover my bare shoulders. “Baby. Stop. Forget about the mess.” He speaks carefully like he really is afraid I’ve morphed into a rabid animal. He gently turns me to face him.

Like always, I’m struck by how damn handsome he is. I don’t know when I’ll get accustomed to it. Even drenched and rumpled from the rain, he’s still the most handsome man I’ve ever met. Actually, I think I’m kind of fond of this look on him.

I love the way his tight wet chest is on display under that white button-down. If he wants to trade in his crisp thousand-dollar suits for waterlogged business casual, I won’t complain.

We could make it official around the office. Yeah…We’ll call it Wet Wednesdays.

It might take some work getting HR on-board with that new dress code but it’d be worth it.

Wait, Eliza. You can’t go back to Kline-Simmons, to Sin Valley. Ever.Shit.

Liam’s eyes bore into mine. “I’m going to ask again—what is going on?”

I growl. “It’s nothing, Liam. Please drop it.” My clammy hands reach for the broom.

Liam takes a step back, crossing his arms over his chest. “Do you really think I buy that? It’s clearly not nothing. I just watched you put your mail in the fridge and your nail polish in the silverware drawer.”

Shit. He’s right. Oh my god—I really have cracked. But in my panicked state I can’t bring myself to admit it out loud. I go on the defensive.

“Well, maybe that’s how things are done in this house,” I huff. “Who are you to judge us? I don’t go complaining at your house. I mean, you roll each pair of socks and organize them—by color—on a closet shelf.”

Seriously, who does that?

“That’s how socks are supposed to be put away!” He argues. “If I left it to you, you’d probably shove them in the freezer!”

Are we seriously arguing about socks at a time like this? Jeez. We really are becoming an old, married couple.

I crack up. Within a few seconds, he’s chuckling, too. Because we’re just ridiculous. Some of the tension dissipates from the room.

Those long, strong fingers grip my shoulders tighter. “Eliza. Please.” I lift my gaze to meet his worried eyes. It squeezes something inside me to see him like this. To see him so concerned over my wellbeing.

But as much as I hate seeing that look on his handsome face, I can’t pull him into my mess. I got myself to this place. So I’m going to get myself out of it. Somehow.

“It’s just some unpaid bills catching up to me,” I lie. “Nothing for you to worry about.”

“Goddammit, it’s more than what you’re letting on, Eliza.” He stomps a foot in frustration and the creaky room shakes around us. “I deal with legal bullshit every day, and investigators don’t just show up on your doorstep at midnight over unpaid credit cards.”

Fuck. How does he know about the investigator? How did he even figure out where to find me? I know the answer to that. The man has the best legal team money can buy. Me and my amateur evasion tactics are no match for them.

I hear a creak from above. Great. Now we’ve woken up Baby Clementine from her nap.

Coming back here probably wasn’t the best idea but, after that guy showed up at my house, I had to see my family for myself. If my world is about to come crashing down, I just want one last day with my family.

“I…I don’t know what you want me to say,” I fumble, staring down at the cracked PVC tiles beneath my bare feet.

“The truth. I want you to say the truth,” he slings back.

“I can’t, Liam. I can’t give you the truth. I cannot compromise you like that.”

As desperate as I am, I don’t want the man I love getting into trouble because of me and my mess. I can’t do it. I refuse to let that happen.

With his knuckles, he lifts my chin. “Well, good thing we're married then, Mrs. Kline.” His chocolate eyes drill into me. “I’ve got two words for you. Spousal. Privilege. Do you need me to explain it to you?”

My heart starts beating faster.

Spousal privilege.

“That means you can’t be forced to testify against me,” I say hopefully. “That means you can’t rat me out. That means whatever I tell you stays between us.”

His hands drift down my back. He lowers his face to mine and whispers through a smile, “That means we’re a team.”

Tears bleed down my cheeks as relief floods my heart.

Finally.Finally, somebody I can talk to. Somebody I can trust.

Liam brushes away my tears with the gentlest fingers. "Now…Start. Talking.”

I lower myself at the kitchen table and curl my legs up under me. “You should probably sit down.”

His eyes drill a hole into my forehead as he finds a seat across the table, facing me.

It takes me a while to figure out where to start. “My sister’s sick.”

“Sick?” A frown creases his face. “How sick?”

“Like, lupus sick.”

“Shit. Is she—?”

“She’s okay. Right now. But it hasn’t always been that way.” I’m struggling to keep the tears at bay, trying hard not to think about how much I worry about my little sister. Being so far away from home has been hell for me.

“She was diagnosed with lupus when she was eleven. By the time she hit her teens, I lost track of all the hospital stays. With so many ups and downs over the years, well, my baby sister really is the strongest person I know. God, some days, she was in so much pain, I couldn’t even hug her,” I explain, pushing through the tightness in my throat.

Liam’s attention doesn’t move from me as I launch into my life’s history. A history I haven’t been able to share with anyone in so long. It feels strange spilling my secrets, but in a way, it’s a relief, too. I didn’t know I needed this.

“Every year, the disease seemed to attack a different part of her body. Every hospital trip seemed to involve new treatments and more medication. Eventually, Mom had to quit her job to care for her around the clock.”

“I’m sorry you had to go through that,” Liam says quietly, his hand sliding atop mine. “That must have been hard on your family. And you, too. But your sister’s okay? She’s better now?”

I shake my head from side to side. “She’ll always have it. There’s no cure. But for some reason, it hits children way harder than adults. She’ll have long term effects, but she’s less symptomatic now. She has issues with her memory, and joint pain.” I briefly close my eyes, warding off the hurt that always surges when I talk about this. “Dana handles it all with a smile, but I just wish we could have done more before it progressed to this point.” Then I carry forward with a heavy sigh, the darker times taking over. “When I was eighteen, the company my dad worked for went bust. We lost our health insurance, and we couldn’t afford my sister’s treatments anymore.”

Liam groans, and I imagine he’s already put two and two together. He’s a smart man. I stare at the lemon-patterned wallpaper, gathering the courage to plow ahead with the story even though my husband may hate my guts soon.

“The immunosuppressants Dana needs to keep her immune system from attacking her body are freakishly expensive. Did you know that medication can cost up to fifteen grand a year? There was hardly any money coming in, and the insurance lapsed. Don’t even get me started on the health system,” I ramble, angry at the world that allowed my sister to suffer. “My parents tried to scrape the money together for a few years but eventually, the cost of her meds alone put my family in debt. Not to mention the hospital stays, the constant lab tests, and even an ambulance ride or five.” I suck in a big, shaky breath. “She would have died without it. I had to do something.”

I glance around the kitchen. Growing up here wasn’t all bad. Memories of the good times come floating back. I remember how Mom loved blasting loud Brazillian music on the weekends when she’d whip up cupcakes from scratch. I can still remember the sweet scent of vanilla filling the kitchen. I remember Dana and me fighting over who’s turn it was to lick the cake batter off the bowl while Mom and Dad would dance and spin around the kitchen. That was before my sister got ill and things went south.

When I fall quiet, Liam’s hand firmly grips my knee beneath the table. “Eliza. Just say it. What did you do?”

“I was desperate to save Dana’s life,” I explain. “We all were. My dad arranged some loans under the table. We didn’t know they were crooked loan sharks.”

“Christ.”

“That’s not even the worst part,” I shake as the words come pouring out. “The money we loaned wasn’t enough and we didn’t have what we needed to pay those sleazeballs back. Dad was out of ideas for what to do. He was so desperate. I heard him talk about forging a document to get a huge bank loan to cover what we needed. But Mom was pregnant with Clementine at the time. The pregnancy took us all by surprise. She didn’t want Dad to take the risk and leave her alone with a newborn baby. So I did it. I went behind my parents’ backs and I forged a document to get money from the bank.”

I can’t look at him now. I can’t bear to see how he must be looking at me. Especially when he pulls himself up out of his chair and begins pacing in this pitiful excuse for a kitchen.

It’s a war of adrenaline in my body as I finish the story. “After my sister was taken care of, I ran away. I packed up and jumped on a bus, traveling across the country, staying in random motels for months on end until I ended up in Sin Valley. The town seemed small enough, no one would come looking for me in the Midwest. But big enough, I could be lost among the crowd.”

I shudder. It was the scariest thing I’ve ever done, going off on my own like that, but what other choices did I have?

Before I know it, I’m ugly-crying into my palms. “I swear, Liam, I’m not a bad person. I’m not,” I say in between snotty sniffles. “I only did it to save Dana. I just couldn’t see anything aside from saving her life.”

Warm, protective arms wrap around me as Liam kneels on the floor in front of my chair. He shushes me soothingly, his hands moving up and down my back, making me promises I’d never expect him to keep. “Why didn’t you come to me for help, Eliza? I told you I’m a man who can make things happen. You should have come to me for help…”

He may be here comforting me right now but I know he’s counting down the hours to his freedom from me and this crap heap I’ve created.

“I don’t know how to fix the mess I made,” I admit, slobbering into his damp shirt. “At least this resort deal with Mr. Varner is almost done,” I say quietly. “As soon as that's finalized, you can cut ties from me completely and get back to your normal life.”

When my tears have dried up, the room is quiet, with the exception of my frenzied snorts and sniffles.

“Maybe I’ll take a plea deal. And I’ll figure out how to deal with Mr. Romano. I’ll figure something out. I always do.”

In a sudden movement, Liam shoots up to his feet, my body cries out at the loss. “Mr. Romano? As in, Rocco Romano?”

I peer up at him through wet lashes. “Yeah, he’s this crooked guy from Vegas. He has connections here in Reno. They call him the King of Nevada.” She sighs. “He’s the one who loaned my dad the money—”

“My god. That man is dangerous, Eliza. Ruthless. Rocco is the worst kind of man.”

I shrug helplessly. “We know that now. But back then...back then we were so desperate and—”

“You’re moving in with me.”

I hiccup and stare into his eyes. “W-what?” Did I hear him wrong?

Liam’s determined granite irises swim in fire. “When we get back to Sin Valley, you’re officially moving in with me. I’m not letting you out of my sight until Rocco Romano is taken care of once and for all.”