I didn't know this restaurant but it looked awfully expensive. Maybe it was the golden chandeliers, or the stiff posture of the lean waiters. No. It was definitely the red velvet curtains that hung around the large room.

Something about the atmosphere made my spine go rod straight and my chin lift up the second James took my hand and led me in here. James, my date, noticed my demeanor. His hand tightened around my waist and he leaned down to whisper in my ear.

"Are you okay?"

No. "Yes," I said instead and exhaled. "Just... Jittery. You said your dad was going to have someone spy on us?"

James chuckled. Somehow, I felt my heart warm up. No, my heart is made of pure ice. A part of me was sad, scared even. I was going to break up with him the second time, no matter how fake the relationship was. The only difference was that, this time around, James wouldn't be hurt. He'd be surprised I'd caught on to his games.

"I'm here, aren't I? You don't have to be scared. Just act natural?"

There was nothing natural about us. Not anymore.

One of the lean waiters showed us our table and asked what he could get us before we made our main order.

"Water. Cold," I said, clearing my throat when I heard what I sounded like. Terrified. The waiter corked an eyebrow at me but deviated his gaze to James anyway.

"White wine, please."

I stared at him in light amusement. "I thought you weren't allowed to have wine before dinner?"

James' eyebrows shot up and a heavy sigh left his lips. "You remember-"

"What your mum always made clear at each dinner I attended?" I scoffed and laughed. "How could I forget? She scared me with her perfection."

James paused, studying me. "You think mum is perfect?"

I stared back at him, smoothing out the skirt of my sundress. "Well, she looks like a china doll."

James laughed again and I found myself smiling. "She does, doesn't she. Dad makes it important that we come off as the model family that everyone else if supposed to follow but what he doesn't know is that his wife wakes up at two in the morning to have a glass of white wine and then goes back to bed."

My eyes almost fell out of their sockets. "What?!" The almighty Alice Grant, a splitting image of solid perfection, had to sneak around to have wine. Incredible!

James had to fight to compose himself. His lips spread into a wife boyish grin that I hadn't seen on him in a while. "We're capable of having wine or slipping up or making mistakes from time to time. I mean, we're human after all."

Mr. Grant was intense, I'd experienced it first-hand when I was dating his son. He demanded perfection wherever he went and when he didn't get it... he moved things around until he did.

I shook the thought off. No need to dwell in the past. I needed to focus on right now. On breaking off this fake arrangement. On calling James out on his revenge plan.

I swallowed the lump in my throat and took a sip of the water the waiter had just left on the table.

James smiled at the guy and collected the menus from him before he walked away, chin up. "Here," he said, handing one to me.

As I scanned the list, I peered over the top of the large menu to James onto to find him already staring at me. Startled, I retracted my gaze.

James laughter rang around me. "You are tense. What's wrong?"

I slapped the menu down on the table. Nothing, just that I'm supposed to be taking you down and you're being too cute.

"Nothing. I think I know what I want, how about you?"

He closed his menu and dropped it to the side and shrugged. "I'll just have what you're having."

He was doing it again. Making me nostalgic. On all our dates, James always made me pick and then copied my order. The anger bubbled in me again, just waiting to be unleashed.

I smiled. "I'm having the chicken and beef nuggets with yellow sauce."

"I thought you couldn't have mustard?" He drew his eyebrows together.

I pursed my lips. "Huh?"

"The yellow sauce, it has mustard in it."

I blinked. James leaned forward, his voice dropping to a whisper. "You didn't think I'd forget, did you?" When I didn't reply, he continued. "I wasn't joking when I promised not to let anything harm you."

He leaned back and took a sip of his wine, chuckling to himself. "Not even mustard."

I just sat and shamelessly gaped at him with my jaw on the ground. You see? This was the reason why I was so furious with him.

All the small moments we'd shared, everything we'd said to each other, he was using it to exert revenge. To remind me of what I couldn't have. How could he be so cruel? And what sucked the most was the fact that he didn't even know the full story. Except me.

And Mr. Grant.

"Why do you do this?"

He dropped his glass of wine and studied me inquisitively, humming with question. One of his eyebrows popped up.

I leaned away from him, sighing. This was it. I was finally calling James out on his plan, whatever it was. And we hadn't even placed our order yet.

"This. These... Things you say. The things you do. The way you act." I shifted my gaze away from him, biting my lip and studying the plain red velvet material of the tablecloth.

"What things?" James asked.

I snapped my attention up to him, a frown etched onto my expression. "Don't act like you're not doing it on purpose."

He leaned forward again, studying me from under his thick lashes. I fought not to draw a sharp breath but instead, let it out slowly. My eyes drifted to something else. Anything but his.

"Doing what exactly, Avery?"

"Acting like we're fine," I raised my voice slightly at him, very aware that we were in am expensive restaurant and they would not hesitate to throw me out if I behaved against their conduct. Keyword being 'me'. They'd never throw a Grant out of their premises. "Like I didn't break up with you approximately six months ago. Like you weren't affected by anything I did. Like... Like..."

My chest rose and fell with each breath I took as I leaned away from James. I couldn't seem to get far enough.

"Like you're the James I used to know."

His brows furrowed in faux confusion and something in my brain ticked. "I am the James you used to know."

I shook my head. "No, that was my James. You're... Someone else. Someone who's cold and terrifying and who'd force me to do things and then yell at me because something went wrong in his life. And trust me, I know that I deserve it but it still doesn't justify you doing it. My James would never-"

I cut myself off because the lump in my throat was getting bigger. Too big to ignore. It was getting harder and harder to breathe, but I needed to get all this out. James and I never talked about the breakup. Why I did it, Why I'd cheated on him, if I'd even cheated on him in the first place.

We just ceased to be a thing.

James just blinked, wearing a straight expression. He was still leaning forward and between the both of us, it wouldn't take much to lean in and kiss him because that was what I wanted. Every single part of me wanted it so badly-except my brain that is. The brain that told me I needed to do this. Whatever was going on needed to stop.

The last word fell from my lips the same time a year rolled down my cheek. "Why?"

"I don't blame you for the bad things happening in my li-"

I chuckled humorlessly at that, straightening in my seat as he did. "Oh yes you do."

"No, I don't." His gaze narrowed.

"You do. If you didn't, we wouldn't be here right now."

"That's not-"

"Did you or did you not want to spite me when you asked me to be your fake girlfriend?"

A silence settled between us. The only sounds that wafted around were those of metalware clinking against glass and soft conversations. Somewhere from the back of the room, someone giggled.

"Are we ready to order?" asked the lean waiter, materialized beside us. Neither I nor James broke eye contact when James replied him.

"Give us a moment."

The waiter bowed slightly at the waist and sauntered away. I exhaled a shaky breath, all but ready to break. Talking about us now, after all this time, it felt real. Too real.