New York Times bestselling author Carleena Flip releases surprising press statement regarding Senator Diego Paolo.
The ideal relationship (whether family, friend, or partner) involves communication and clear expectations.
Sario had told him to dress normally, but Marlowe was well enough acquainted with the Holt "normal" to know he had almost nothing that worked. He had dug out a nice pair of jeans from the back of a dresser drawer he rarely opened and wrapped himself in his most decent-looking hoodie. It still felt disrespectful, even when Sario showed up in ripped black jeans and a Falville University sweatshirt.
On their way over in the backseat of one of the many cars the Holt family no doubt owned, Sario slid a thin silver band onto Marlowe's ring finger. There was a small diamond embedded in the metal as well, something only a rich boy like Sario would think of adding.
Marlowe held up his left hand to the window, watching the diamond refract the sunlight into a rainbow on the back of the seat. "Thank you," he said softly, since that seemed like the right thing to do. "It's very nice."
Sario went red all the way up to the tips of his ears. "You're welcome," he replied awkwardly. "It was, um, Maya's idea to get the diamond. I know it's kinda extra, but, you know…" His voice trailed off, and he shrugged.
Yes, Marlowe knew. In order to sell this, they had to make it look like they were infatuated with each other. Head over heels in love. He nodded. "Yeah. Totally."
Sario snatched Marlowe's hand in a sudden move and interlaced their fingers.
It felt so couple-like and intimate that Marlowe's heart nearly stopped. No one had ever treated him like this. Each one of the men before Sario had never wanted to hold his hand or give him any sort of comfort. So he had found comfort in other things, things he was not allowed to touch right now thanks to Darius' interference. And now, having Sario show him such gentle, natural affection was messing with his head. He knew it was not real. None of it was. It was just the two of them playing their parts to perfection. That was all they had to do. It would be done soon enough and then they could each get back to their own lives, whatever that meant.
When they reached the Holt mansion, Sario pulled Marlowe with him out his door, their fingers still interlocked, and practically dragged him like an excited puppy up to the front door, which he opened with all the confidence in the world. This version of Sario was a little frightening. Like, how was this bundle of chaotic confusion so excited to live out a lie?
Marlowe was not complaining. He could not, not when this was his only chance to escape Paolo. He tried to get his shoes off at the door, scared of tracking dirt across the perfectly clean floor, but Sario just kept pulling him along. He began to feel some of Sario's energy rub off on him until they turned into the living room and he came face to face with the Holt parents. His feet froze to the floor, and his hands went cold.
Sario looked back at him, expression shifting into concern.
Mrs. Holt stood up gracefully and gave what she likely intended as a gentle smile. "Hello," she said. "It's nice to meet you at last."
At last? How long had their supposed relationship been going on?
Mrs. Holt held out her hand, motioning them to one of the couches. "Please, sit down."
Sario led Marlowe to the couch and sat them down there. He kept his grip on Marlowe's hand, the silver band around Marlowe's finger growing warm between their hands. "I'm sorry I sprang this on you, Mamá. And Dad," he added quickly.
Mr. Holt gave a silent nod, his sharp blue eyes sweeping over Marlowe like he had X-ray vision. Darius was very much like his dad, Marlowe realized.
"Well," Mrs. Holt said, sitting back down beside her husband, "it was quite a pleasant surprise."
Pleasant? They approved?
Marlowe let a quiet breath escape from his lungs. This was good. This was fine. He was fine. He smiled, forcing down all of his low-laying panic. "I'm glad we're finally able to meet."
Mrs. Holt smiled in return. "Yes! Though I think I saw you around at Darius' wedding."
There was no use denying that. Marlowe nodded, keeping his smile stapled to his lips. "Yes, I'm an acquaintance of Darius'. That's how Sario and I met." At least that was not a lie. They had met through Darius, just probably not in the way the Holts were thinking.
"Hm." Mr. Holt sounded suspicious or at least unconvinced. "Darius doesn't usually invite acquaintances to important events."
If Marlowe's heart beat any faster, he was going to pass out. "We've known each other for almost seven years at this point, so perhaps acquaintance was the wrong word to describe our relationship."
Mr. Holt frowned slightly but then nodded.
Marlowe nearly jumped when Sario's hand came down on his back and traced light circles there. He did not hate it exactly, but he was not a fan of the way it made his nerves tingle. It felt like his brain was going to explode from the feedback his nerves were sending to it.
"We were both a little scared you wouldn't understand," Sario said, sounding so young and vulnerable that Marlowe wanted to both run away and stay to protect Sario.
"I still don't understand," Mr. Holt replied flatly. "But I'm not going to stop you either. You're an adult. I trust you know what you're doing."
Sario flashed a blinding smile that did something to Marlowe's stomach, and not in a good way. It was the way Paolo had smiled, the way he still smiled in every single one of Marlowe's nightmares. Sario's head snapped over, his eyes wide in worry. Had Marlowe flinched or something? "Hey," Sario said softly, somehow getting even closer to him, "are you okay?"
Marlowe tried to free his hand from Sario's, but the kid held on with a stubborn strength. "I'm fine," he responded quietly, keeping his voice low to hide its shaking. Fuck, he really needed a fix right now. That was the only thing that would save him from a panic attack. But he did not have any of his drugs since Darius had thrown them all away and warned him against attempting to get more. So he improvised. "I've just got a bit of a headache." He smiled in a slightly miserable way that he did not have to try too hard for. "Do you have some ibuprofen or something I could take real quick? I'm so sorry."
Mrs. Holt stood up immediately, her forehead furrowing. "You don't need to apologize, dear. I'll go find something. For now, why don't you lay down and close your eyes?" She gave Sario a meaningful look before hurrying out of the living room.
Marlowe let Sario pull him down into his lap. He had to keep up appearances after all. He closed his eyes and tried to focus on the somewhat nice feeling of Sario running cool fingers through his hair. To his surprise, he actually started to drift off before Mrs. Holt came back. When Sario shook him gently, he sat up and gulped down the two Advil pills Mrs. Holt had brought before he lay back down like he could not stand sitting up or keeping his eyes open. It was not quite enough, but he would work with it. It should be enough to take the edge off his fear or at least convince his stupidly haywire brain that the panic was gone through a placebo effect sort of thing. After a reasonable amount of time waiting for the meds to kill his "headache", he opened his eyes and sat up again. He offered an apologetic but grateful smile. "Thank you. I think I'm good now."
Mrs. Holt returned his smile with one of relief. "That's good to hear. I'm glad I could help." And she looked like she genuinely meant it. If this all was not a lie, she would make a wonderful mother-in-law.
Even Mr. Holt seemed glad that the situation had been so easily resolved. Maybe he was also nervous about this visit.
"Well," Mrs. Holt began, clearly attempting to pick up where they had left off, "I think this is going to be just fine." She glanced at her husband. "I'm not seeing any problems, and you two obviously really care about each other." With an approving look in Sario's direction, she added, "I'm really happy for you."
Sario kept his smile subdued, even though Marlowe could feel that he wanted to grin and jump around like a kid allowed to have ice cream. Instead, he took Marlowe's left hand in a tight grasp. "Thank you, Mamá. You don't know how much this means to us."
Mrs. Holt shook her head. "I think I do, Sarito. I am married too, you know." She waved her hand as if brushing that topic of conversation away. "But, all things aside, we're very happy to have you join our family, Augustine."
Shit. Darius had told them his name too? Marlowe was going to have to schedule a time to strangle his fiancé's older brother amidst what would no doubt be an insane few weeks of wedding planning. He hated his name, but for the sake of appearances he replied politely, "Thank you, I'm excited too!" He did his best to sound like an enthusiastic romantic who was in over his head in the vat of boiling wax that was love. After being burned, it was hard to pretend that he was happy to be back there because he was trapped with or without the lie.
Mrs. Holt thoughtfully proposed meeting another time to go over wedding details and urged him to rest. She refused to let Sario take him home and insisted that they both stay in the mansion since it would make things easier.
Marlowe had no capacity to argue with a sweet woman who he was lying to, so he simply agreed and let her show him to a room. He lay down on the bed as a show of tiredness and perhaps a residual headache but, to his shock, he found himself slipping into the dream world. A dreamless sleep was impossible for him, even if it was just a nap. He wanted to sob as hot fingers wound into his hair and scorching lips burned his throat and branded his mouth. He could never fight back in his dreams, just like he had never been able to fight back against anything in his life. His whole world was on fire, in his dreams and in his reality. If hell was real, he was ready.