Many weeks had passed since Ashlynn Whittaker became Ashlynn Marker—Aunt Leah insisted she take his last name to keep up the façade. The warmth of summer was long gone, and the coolness of fall was fading to winter's bitter cold. Thanksgiving was a little over a week away, and the company was as busy as ever.

Whittaker United was one of the largest tech companies in the Eastern United States. Running it was not easy. The first couple weeks were the hardest; Ashlynn was totally clueless about the world of business. Having to rely on Wesley for help was the worst of it, especially when he gave her a smug little grin while telling her everything she was doing wrong. They'd spend the day going over reports and listening to presentations—many of which put Ashlynn to sleep—and come home exhausted (well, only Wesley was exhausted).

At home they avoided each other. On good days the sat in the same room, but mostly they were as far away from each other as possible. They didn't get married to be friends; they got married to save the company.

Besides, it was also a well-known fact around the house that Wesley's girlfriend paid him visits. He still hadn't told her that the whole thing was fake, but she was too obsessed to care. She even showed up at dinner once, crying about how she loved Wesley more than Ashlynn. That was an undeniable fact, and Ashlynn would have told her so if Wesley hadn't led his sobbing, raving girlfriend out of the room.

It was a few days after this event that Aunt Leah snapped.

She caught them together in the living room (it was a good day) and demanded their attention. "You two are the worst married couple I have ever seen!"

No argument there.

"You come home and you don't even look at each other. You don't go out; you don't talk; I have to force you to even eat together!" Aunt Leah waved her arms in frustration. "Well, it all changes now. You've had your chance to groan and gripe, but I won't tolerate it any longer. No more girlfriends showing up, no more secret meetings—don't think you fooled me, Ash—and no more avoiding one another. You're married, for Pete's sake! Try acting like it!"

The two stared at her in shock. Aunt Leah wasn't the type to shout and fuss. She also spilled something Ashlynn didn't want Wesley to know.

"Secret meetings?" His book fell into his lap. "Are you meeting with that guy from the club?"

"What's it to you? Your girlfriend shows up every other day, threatening all sorts of nonsense until you take her away somewhere," Ashlynn replied defensively.

"She's not my girlfriend anymore. And I just take her home."

"Whatever."

"Ash, are you meeting that Dylan guy?"

"Ashlynn," she corrected. "And no, I just bump into him at the club from time to time." That wasn't a complete lie; they never planned on meeting, they just happened to be there at the same time. Regularly.

"And you drink with him?"

"We're friends! He's sweet, and fun to talk to!"

Wesley shook his head, laughing bitterly. "You're unbelievable."

"You have no right to say that! You're the one with a girlfriend!"

"I'm not seeing her right now! I'm not the one who's cheating here!"

Ashlynn winced at that. She would tolerate many things, but being accused of cheating wasn't one of them. There were too many bad memories surrounding that word. "I don't know why you care, anyways. It's not like you love me or anything. You're just here for my money."

"Ash—"

"Save it. I don't want to hear more lame excuses." She stood, her eyes stinging. "I'm leaving."

"Ash—" Wesley reached out and caught her sleeve.

She slapped his hand away as a tear slid down her cheek. "Don't touch me, and don't come after me." With that, she stormed out of the room.

Wesley was at a loss for words. Perhaps he had taken it too far, but he wasn't wrong.

"Don't worry about it," Aunt Leah muttered and patted his shoulder gently. "She has, well, there's a lot that happened to her in the past. Besides, this was bound to happen at one point. Just leave her be for a few days."

Wesley watched Aunt Leah walk away, leaving him alone in the living room. He groaned in frustration and raked his fingers through his hair. For the first time in ages, he felt conflicted about someone. Ashlynn was right, he wasn't here because he loved her. They were married, but it was in title only. Even if the whole arrangement was fake, it bothered him that she was seeing someone on the side.

He didn't want to think about the reason why.

Picking his book up from the floor, Wesley went to his room. He was drained, mentally and emotionally. 

He needed sleep.

《♡》

She needed a drink.

"I can't believe the nerve of that guy!" Ashlynn slammed her third shot glass on the counter, empty. "His girlfriend literally comes to the house. Gah!"

Dylan sighed from the barstool next to her. "He does have a point, though." At the sight of her arched brow, he hurriedly added, "You are kind of going behind his back to meet me."

"But we're friends. This isn't an affair."

"Even so," he frowned, "it would seem like it from his perspective."

"I'm just so tired of this. I don't know what I was thinking when I agreed to marry him."

"You didn't have many options. You were stressed and pressed for time—"

"I had nearly three weeks before the deadline."

Dylan looked at her. "Really?"

"Yes, and I still married that moron. What was wrong with me?" She waved the bartender down to refill her drink. "I'm an idiot."

"That's true—"

"Hey!"

"—but you're a cute idiot." Dylan flashed her his boyish grin.

"Shut up," she mumbled into her glass. Downing her shot, she slid money onto the counter. "I'm going home. I've got work tomorrow."

"I'll drive you home?"

"No," she sighed. "I think it would be best if you didn't come near the house. I don't want a repeat of today."

"Alright. Be careful," he rose and helped her with her coat.

Two seconds later, she was enveloped in his warmth. His chin rested on the top of her head and his arms were wrapped comfortably around her back. They stood like that for a few moments before she slipped away shyly.

Maybe the smell of Calvin Klein wasn't as bad as she thought.

《♡》

The next few days at the company were awful. Scuttlebutt was that the big bosses had a fight, and the employees couldn't keep their prying eyes to themselves.

Ashlynn didn't speak to Wesley at all, and she purposefully zoned out in meetings thinking about the Thanksgiving feast she'd be enjoying next week. Mountains of mashed potatoes, tender turkey, pumpkin pie, and apple cider. She could taste it already.

When they got home on Thursday—in separate cars—Aunt Leah was waiting for them in the entrance hall. "Coats off, shoes off, and come with me."

They obeyed out of respect, and only protested when she made them sit together on a couch.

Aunt Leah sat opposite them in a recliner. "Now then. Since you've both had time to reflect since Sunday, I believe apologies are in order." They opened their mouths in protest and shut them immediately at the withering look she gave them. "You are both in the wrong here, and you are adults. Pouting and acting butthurt is what children do. If you make mistakes, you must own up to them. Which is why I must apologize to the both of you for starting this mess. I only stepped in because it was necessary; you won't be able to fool people if you act like this all the time. And with the holidays coming up, you two are going to be spending a lot of time together around other people."

That's right, Jamison is coming. Thanksgiving meant Aunt Leah's son, Jamison, and his family would be coming to stay for a few days. In other words, Ashlynn and Wesley would have to keep up the act for more than eight hours a day.

"You're right," Wesley admitted, the frown falling from his face. "I went too far, and for that I apologize. But I'm still upset that you were going behind my back to meet with a guy."

"He's just my friend." At a look from Aunt Leah, she continued, "I'm sorry for...being rude about your, um, ex?"

"Good enough," Aunt Leah said, although she was clearly dissatisfied. "On to more pertinent issues. Thanksgiving is next week, and my son Jamison and his family will be spending a few days with us. This means that you two will have to play nice for at least three days. Think of this as a warmup for Christmas."

"What's happening at Christmas...?" Wesley asked, nervousness making his voice a higher pitch.

"They'll visit again. For two weeks." Aunt Leah smiled innocently, although the glint in her eyes was anything but innocent.

"Oh."

Ashlynn stared at the floor. She was starting get familiar with the patterns in the hardwood boards. Keeping the company really didn't sound nice anymore if she had to spend more time with Wesley.

"So, starting tomorrow, I want the two of you to spend time outside of work together. Take a walk, go out for dinner, watch a movie, anything that will help you understand each other. Jamison is no fool, and he's already very suspicious of this whole arrangement. You," Aunt Leah looked pointedly at Wesley, "are going to have to convince him that you married Ashlynn out of love, not guilt. And you, my dear, need to cooperate."

"Can't we just tell him?" Ashlynn whined.

Aunt Leah shook her head. "If he finds out, Lucy will find out. And, as much as I love her, she leaks like a sieve and it'll be in the news before you know it. The company will take a hit and, to put it bluntly, this will have all been for nothing."

Ashlynn and Wesley shared a look. They'd come too far to give up now. "Alright," Wesley turned back to Aunt Leah. "We'll do it."

"I know you will," Aunt Leah said with a smile. Smoothing her skirt, she rose to her feet and headed towards the hallway. "I'll let you two decide what your plans are. Oh, and one more thing!"

Ashlynn rolled her eyes. "What?"

"When Jamison gets here, the two of you will have to share a room. It would be awfully suspicious if you didn't sleep together." Ashlynn could hear the mirth in her aunt's voice, and her chest filled with dread. "You'll move your belongings into his room on Sunday, Ashlynn."

On that awful note, Ashlynn and Wesley were left alone—not considering the big elephant which had just made his way into the room.

Wesley was wise enough to keep his mouth shut, but Ashlynn didn't even try to rein in her tongue. "There is no way I'm sleeping in the same room as you for a week, let alone the same bed!"

Well, now he had to say something. "I'm not exactly looking forward to this either, Ash, but I'd rather stay on your great aunt's good side."

"My name is Ashlynn."

"Alright, Ashlynn, what kind of movies do you like?"

She arched her eyebrow at him.

"I'm not kidding. What kind of movies do you like?"

"Good ones."

It was Wesley's turn to arch his eyebrow.

"Action."

"Alright. Tomorrow, we'll go see an action movie." And with that, Wesley fled the room.

Ashlynn was left alone (with the elephant). Part of her wanted to break something—rather, someone—and part of her wanted to get a drink. But the club was off limits for the time being, and the someone whose face she wanted to break had just ran away.

Annoyed, she went up to her room. It wasn't very late in the evening, but she just wanted to sleep. At least in her dreams she could go on dates with people who were actually interested in her instead of people responsible for fifteen years of misery.

Only 130 days to go.

And then she'd never have to see his face again. Or his blue eyes.

Still wearing her office clothes, Ashlynn drifted off to sleep, and dreamed that all the theaters in town would be closed the next day.