Act Like You Love Me (Jessica) novel Chapter 87

Chapter 87

Jessica’s POV

The car ride to the restaurant was a masterclass in suffocating silence.

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Aaron stared out the window, his jaw set in a hard, unforgiving line, while I gripped my iPad like a life raft.

The Spanish sun was beginning to bake the streets of Madrid, but inside the vehicle, it was sub-zero.

We arrived at a quaint, upscale café tucked into a cobblestone alley. It was the type of place that breathed history-wrought iron chairs, the scent of freshly roasted beans, and blooming bougainvillea spilling over the balconies above.

Aaron didn’t wait for the driver; he opened his own door and stepped out, not glancing back to see if I was following.

I hurried after him, my flats clicking softly against the stone.

We chose a table in the corner, shaded by a blooming vine. I started to pull out my tablet to go over the morning’s briefing, but Aaron reached across and pressed his palm down on the screen.

“Eat first, Jessica,” he said, his voice flat. “I don’t want you fainting during the negotiations.”

I opened my mouth to argue, then saw the look in his eyes-the dark, swirling storm I’d seen in the mirror this morning-and decided to stay quiet.

We ordered quickly; Eggs Benedict for me, black coffee and an omelet for him.

When the food arrived, the steam rising from the golden yolks and crispy toast usually would have made my mouth water- but it barely made me excited.

I poked at my plate, the knot in my stomach making it impossible to even think about eating.

I watched him across the table, wondering what the plan was.

Were we just going back to another day of pretending? Another round of stolen glances and the kind of tension that felt like it might snap us both in half?

Before I could spiral any deeper, an elderly couple strolled past our table.

They looked like they’d stepped right out of a vintage postcard; the man in a linen suit, his arm linked firmly with a woman wearing a floral silk scarf and a smile that lit up her whole face.

They moved slowly, with the kind of easy rhythm you only get after decades of walking together.

To my surprise, they slowed down as they reached us, pausing to look our way with an unadulterated warmth only older people seem to have.

It was a look that assumed we were just like them-at the beginning of a long, happy story-and it made the

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Chapter 87

lie of our “relationship” sting even more.

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“Forgive an old woman for staring,” she said in a soft, melodic accent. “But you two are simply a vision. You look so beautiful together. Reminds me of us, fifty years ago.”

I felt the heat rush to my cheeks, my skin prickling with embarrassment.

“Oh, we aren’t-I mean, he’s my-”

I started to correct her, the truth hovering on the tip of my tongue, but Aaron cut me off.

“Thank you,” he said, his voice dropping into an effortless, rich tone. He flashed a smile so convincing it could have sold ice to an Eskimo.

He didn’t even glance my way; his focus was entirely on the couple, pulling them into his orbit.

“Fifty years?” he repeated, leaning in slightly as if their answer was the only thing that mattered.

“You both must have started a lifetime ago. Tell me, what’s the secret? How do you keep the foundation from cracking when things get… complicated?”

I stared at him, my mouth slightly agape.

He was asking for marriage advice? This man, who had spent the last hour treating me like a stranger, was suddenly leaning in with genuine curiosity.

What was he doing? Was this his way of addressing the elephant without directly facing me?

The woman blushed like a schoolgirl, and her husband chuckled, resting a hand on her shoulder.

“May we?” he asked, gesturing to the chairs.

“Please,” Aaron said, leaning back in his chair, his expression softening into something curious.

I had to shift. I moved from my seat opposite Aaron to the small bench beside him to make room.

As I sat, our thighs pressed together. A lurch of electricity shot through me, making my breath catch.

He didn’t pull away. He leaned into the contact, his warmth seeping into my skin.

The couple, Maria and Tomas, began to share their story. Their English was accented and a little broken, the words coming out slow and careful, but the emotion behind them didn’t need a translation.

They didn’t just give us advice; they seemed to drift away from the restaurant, getting lost in each other as they spoke.

“We meet in Seville,” Maria began, her voice a soft rasp. She gave Tomas a shy glance that made her look nineteen again.

“During Feria de Abril. I was girl, he was young man-a bullfighter, you know? All bravado and the charm.” She laughed, her eyes sparkling as she looked at him.

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Chapter 87

Even with the gray hair and the wrinkles, it was clear she still saw the hero in the ring.

“But… much troubles,” she continued, her hands moving as she searched for the right words.

“His family, they say no. They think I am too-how you say?-common. And then, a mistake. A misunderstanding. I think he betray me with old girl. I run away for weeks. My heart, it was…

She gestured to her chest, her face falling for a split second. “It was broke.”

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My breath caught in my throat. I sat there, frozen, as her mangled sentences hit me harder than any polished speech could.

It mirrored my own life so closely: the perceived betrayal, the desperate flight, the years of picking up the

pieces.

I stole a glance at Aaron. He hadn’t moved. His focus on them was intense, his jaw set, like he was absorbing every syllable, searching for a map out of our own mess.

Tomas took over, his weathered hand covering Maria’s on the table. Their fingers intertwined with at familiarity that only comes from decades of touch.

“I search everywhere,” he said, his voice deep and gravelly. “I think I lose her for good. But when I find her, I do not shout. I do not demand. I listen.” He paused, looking at her as if she were the only person in the room.

“It was lies from jealous people. We talk for days. We pull back the hurt.” He squeezed her hand.

“The secret? Forgiveness is not forgetting. It is choosing the other person every day, even when the heart is tired.”

Maria nodded, her free hand reaching up to trace the line of his cheek.

“And the passion,” she added with a small, mischievous wink. “You keep the fire. Dance in the kitchen. Steal the kisses like teenagers. Life is too short for the grudges.”

They trailed off then, getting wrapped up in each other. They shared a soft laugh over some private joke, their eyes locking until the rest of the world seemed to fade away.

I stared at them, my heart warming even as a lancet-sharp ache bloomed in my chest.

The way Tomas looked at Maria, like she was the sun rising after a long, cold night-was exactly what I’d seen. in the movies I used to binge-watch on my loneliest nights.

It was pure, unbreakable love. It made me envious, a pang of longing vibrating deep in my soul.

I wondered if I was ever meant to have that, or if I was doomed to live in these fragments and “what-ifs” with the man sitting beside me.

The couple finally excused themselves, wishing us luck with one last knowing smile.

“Cherish each other,” Maria said.

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Chapter 87

She patted my hand gently before they strolled off, arm in arm, into the morning light.

When they finally left, an awkward silence settled over our table.

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The clinking of silverware and the hum of nearby conversations felt a mile away, leaving us in a private, suffocating bubble.

Aaron cleared his throat but didn’t speak. He just stared down at his plate, pushing a piece of toast around with his fork.

I took a slow sip of my coffee. The bitterness felt right, matching the knot tightening in my throat.

I couldn’t wrap my head around what had just happened.

Why was he fishing for advice from strangers? It felt like an indirect plea, a way to say the things he was too proud to admit, but neither of us was brave enough to bridge the gap.

The air between us was heavy with the pressure of everything we were refusing to say. It felt like we were sitting in the wreckage of our own history, trapped between the shock of this engagement and the heat that still flared whenever our eyes met.

In summary, we were two people choking on the truth, both of us waiting for the other to finally speak up.

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