PART 7:

The worst part was how good the lie felt when it was working. Sunday mornings with Emma making pancakes. Wednesday nights when Ryan would text her after putting Emma to bed, and they’d talk for hours about nothing important. The way Emma had started reaching for Victoria’s hand automatically when they crossed streets. Victoria had never had this.

Her own childhood had been nannies and boarding schools and parents who loved her but didn’t really know her. She’d built a billion-dollar company but couldn’t remember the last time someone had hugged her just because they were happy to see her. Emma hugged her all the time, just because. Ryan touched her like she mattered, like she was irreplaceable, and Victoria was lying to both of them with every breath.

3 months in, Ryan invited her to Thanksgiving. “It’s just me and Emma and my sister’s family,” he’d said. Nothing fancy, but Emma’s been asking if you’ll be there. And honestly, so have I. Victoria should have said no. Should have used the holiday as an excuse to create distance to figure out how to tell the truth or how to walk away.

Instead, she’d said yes. Thanksgiving was in Ryan’s sister’s house, 30 mi outside Aspen, a modest ranch home with toys in the yard and a tire swing, and the kind of livedin chaos that came from raising three kids on a teacher salary. Ryan’s sister, Michelle, was blunt in a way that reminded Victoria of Ryan. She’d sized Victoria up within 10 seconds of meeting her. So, you’re Tori? That’s me.

My brother talks about you constantly. Emma, too. They’re pretty great. They are. And they’ve both been hurt enough. So, if you’re not serious about this, walk away now. Ryan had overheard. Michelle, I’m just saying what needs to be said. Michelle had turned back to Victoria. Are you serious about him? Victoria had met her eyes. Yes.

And she’d meant it. That was the horrible part. Underneath all the lies, the actual feelings were real. Dinner had been loud, chaotic, perfect. Kids running everywhere, Michelle’s husband telling terrible jokes, Ryan carving turkey, while Emma narrated his every move like a sports commentator. Victoria had sat at a table with people who thought she was an office worker making $38,000 a year, and she’d never felt more at home.

After dinner, she’d helped Michelle with dishes while the kids played outside, and Ryan helped his brother-in-law fix a broken window latch. “He really likes you,” Michelle had said, handing Victoria a plate to dry. “I really like him, too.” “Good, because Emma’s already planning your wedding.” Victoria had nearly dropped the plate. What? She’s six.

In her mind, if her dad has a girlfriend, the next step is obviously marriage. Michelle had given her a knowing look. Is that something you’ve thought about? It’s only been 3 months. So, that’s a no. It wasn’t a no. That was the problem. Victoria had caught herself thinking about it, about what it would be like to marry Ryan, to officially become Emma’s stepmother, to build a life in that small apartment with people who loved her for reasons that had nothing to do with her net worth.

But she couldn’t marry Ryan as Tory Brennan. Tory Brennan didn’t exist. It’s complicated, Victoria had finally said. Michelle had studied her. You’re hiding something. Victoria’s heart had kicked. What makes you say that? I’m a teacher. I know when people are lying. She dried her hands on a towel, turned to face Victoria directly.

I don’t know what it is. Maybe you’re married. Maybe you’re in witness protection. Maybe you’re secretly a spy. But whatever it is, you need to tell my brother before he falls any deeper. I’m not married, but there is something. Victoria had wanted to confess everything right then. But Michelle wasn’t the one who deserved the truth first. Ryan was.

I’m going to tell him, Victoria had said quietly. Soon. Soon better be real soon because that man in there, he’s been through enough. And that little girl deserves better than another person who leaves. Later, driving back to Aspen with Ryan and Emma asleep in the truck. Victoria had stared out at the dark highway and tried to find the words.

Tried to imagine how the conversation would go. Ryan, I need to tell you something. I’m not actually an office worker. I’m the CEO of a tech company worth $1.2 billion. I’ve been lying to you for 3 months because I was testing you to see if you’d love me without knowing about my money.

Surprise, there was no version of that conversation that didn’t end badly. December came. Aspen transformed into a winter wonderland that the tourist board spent millions advertising but somehow never captured the reality of. Snow piled up, lights went up, the town sparkled. Emma had a school Christmas concert.

She’d been practicing her song for weeks, singing it constantly around the apartment until Ryan begged for mercy. “You’re coming, right?” Emma had asked Victoria three separate times. “I wouldn’t miss it.” The concert was in the elementary school gymnasium, packed with parents holding phones and cameras. Victoria sat between Ryan and Michelle, watching Emma stand on risers with her class, singing slightly offkey with absolute conviction.

Ryan had reached for Victoria’s hand during the performance, just held it like it was the most natural thing in the world, and Victoria had felt her carefully constructed walls finally crack completely open. She loved him. She loved Emma. She loved this weird, small, complicated life they were building. And she was going to lose all of it when the truth came out.

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