Darkly His: The Billionaire's Fake Fiancée

Twelve days before Christmas, she lay beside him, back against his chest, his arms around her-warm, safe, perfect. Snow fell against the window.

His heart was racing. She felt it.

"Baby, are you okay?" she whispered.

"Yeah." Too fast.

His eyes stayed on the ceiling, jaw tight.

"You vomited. Talk to me."

"I'm fine. Just a fever."

She touched his chest. He caught her hand, then let it fall.

"We should talk-" She began.

"Don't."

"I shouldn't care?"

"I have too much going on."

"About me?"

"No."

But she knew.

The silence hurt.

"Do you still love me? Like you said? " She asked.

He turned to the window, staring at the snow.

****

****

The next night, she went to his off-campus apartment. He was packing.

"You're leaving?"

"Going home for Christmas."

"You weren't going to tell me?"

"I didn't want reactions."

"I'm your girlfriend."

"You're making this hard. You always want more than I can give?"

"So you're ending it?"

"I need space. You want more than I can give."

"So you don't want a future with me?"

"I don't know. Not like this."

Her voice broke. He didn't move.

"Say it," she whispered. "Say you don't want me."

"I think it's better if we stop."

She nodded and walked out into the cold.

She blocked his number an hour later.

Life didn't wait. Her father's health worsened. Rent was overdue. Her sister panicked. There was no time, no way to reach him afterhe left, no space to cry well.

She packed and left.

The day before they moved, her father asked from his wheelchair, "Where's that campus boy? He's not been visiting."

"We're not together anymore."

"He left?" he asked gently.

She broke. "Yes.... I hate him, Dad."

He held her as she cried. "Don't lose yourself."

But she already had.

****

****

Late that night, she stood behind the kitchen door and dialed his number.

Once. Twice. Ten times. Twenty.

It went straight to voicemail. Every single time.

"Please pick up," she whispered into the phone. "Please... just tell me you didn't mean it."

Nothing.

She tried again. Again. Again.

Still nothing.

Her heart cracked slowly.

Fine, she told herself hours later. If he didn't want her anymore... she would not beg.

She blocked the number with trembling fingers. Deleted their chats. Deleted their pictures. Deleted herself from every app he could find her on.

Then she wiped her little tears with the back of her hand and lied to herself:

"There was no future for us. We needed to let go."

But the truth burned inside her like salt in a wound. She was breaking and she didn't want him to leave. She didn't want to leave either but she couldn't wait for someone like him.

****

****

He called her back weeks later.

No answer.

Again. Nothing.

He checked her socials. Gone. Blocked.

No one at the university could reach her.

Anger burned through him-at her, at himself, at every word he didn't say