Hey, so, what’s this I hear about your mom being healthy and cancer-free?”

“What?” Raphael asks, his hand still holding the door handle. He frowns as he shuts the door behind him.

This is the thing about dating your landlord. He already has your key.

Pro: you don’t have to pay for key cutting.

Con: he already has your key, even if you haven’t given it to him.

I haven’t minded having Raphael around since we got back from the Paris trip, but tonight is different.

I’ve survived an eight-hour retail shift. I’ve been on my feet all day. I’ve also been stressed out all day. All I’ve been able to think about is how dumb I’ve been.

I should’ve known what I was getting into. I knew what Raphael is: a player, a womanizer. So why do I expect him to be different with me? Am I really that conceited?

“Yeah,” I say from my bed, where I’m sitting cross-legged, holding my pillow against my chest like a shield.

Last night, I jumped on Raphael as soon as I heard his footsteps behind the door. But things are different now.

“I heard your mom doesn’t have cancer. Congratulations on her recovery,” I say sarcastically.

“Okay, so I told you one lie. It was the only thing I could think of to get you to agree to the plan. And look how well that has worked out. We wouldn’t have gotten together without it,” he says without remorse. “I need to talk to you about something else.”

“Like my credit score?” I ask. “Remember how on the plane I asked you to look into it, and you told me it could’ve been a mistake? Were you just going to show up here and tell me that it was an error, that you were mistaken, so you’d get off the hook?”

“What?” Raphael looks indignant.

“You heard me. What else have you lied about?”

“I didn’t lie to you about the credit score, Piper.” Raphael runs his fingers through his hair with frustration as he stands in the middle of the room, looming over me.

He’s so big and tall it’s hard to act all intimidating around him. His stature has always made me feel small and dainty, but that’s not a good thing right now.

“Then explain to me why I have a bad credit score. Or have you been too busy to look into that?”

“What? Now you’re just looking for excuses to lash out at me,” he says. “I’ve been meaning to talk to you about it, but I haven’t found the right time.”

“Now. Now’s the right time,” I say, giving him a death glare.

“Okay. I don’t know how to say this to you, so I’m just going to do it.” He takes a deep breath, then says, “You’ve been approved for several credit cards, and you’ve been maxing them out. All of—”

“That’s not possible,” I say firmly, cutting him off.

“Listen to me. These credit cards, they were sent to your address in Rockvale. Ring a bell?”

I get a sinking feeling in the pit of my stomach as realization dawns on me.

Dad.

Of course.

That jerk.

He’s freaking committing identity fraud against his own daughter. Who does that?

“Yeah, you know. You know I’m telling the truth now,” Raphael says as he sits down on the edge of the bed. “It’s an easy fix. Don’t worry about it. You can report it to the cops and the banks, and your credit will get cleared up, no problem.”

Yes, there is a problem, I want to say. How am I supposed to report my own dad?

I remain quiet. How can I admit that my own dad is stealing from me?

“Listen, Piper. I need to talk to you about something,” he says. “You saw your ex, didn’t you?”

“How did you know that?” I glare at him. “Have you been spying on me?”

“Why didn’t you tell me you were meeting up with him?”

“Oh, I have to ask for your permission now? I was just getting an old jacket I left in his place. It didn’t even take five minutes,” I say, my voice getting higher and louder as I get more and more defensive. “How dare you spy on me?”

“I didn’t spy on you. Somebody else did, and they showed me the report.”

“There’s a report? What the hell, Rafe?”

“No, that came out wrong,” he says. “Somebody—and I’m guessing it’s Miranda—hired a PI to see if you’re really my fiancée. And they took some pictures of you.”

“Why should I believe you? Maybe you’re the one who hired the PI.” I narrow my eyes at him. “But there’s no way for me to find out what’s real, is there? You’re too good. You’re too good at lying. You’re too smooth. Slippery.”

“What are you saying? You think I’d do something like that to you?” Raphael asks, looking offended.

“Why not? You’re okay with pretending that your mom has cancer, and that we’re engaged. You’re lying to your own family, so why wouldn’t you lie to a nobody like me?”

“A nobody?” Raphael’s voice gets louder. “You think you’re a nobody to me? You’re crazy if you think that. You think I’ve been faking everything this whole time?”

“Yeah,” I say, deliberately challenging him.

I used to think everything was real between us, but now I’m not so sure anymore. Maybe he only said whatever he said and did whatever he did to get in my pants.

“For all I know, nothing between us has been real,” I say quietly.

Raphael clenches his jaw, and I can see the muscles in his neck tensing up. Through gritted teeth, he says, “If you think this is nothing and you’re a nobody to me, then I don’t know what else to say to you.”

“Is it even true that you got into prison on a drug charge? You could be an axe murderer for all I know. Or maybe you raped someone.”

“You think I’d do something like that? What the fuck, Piper?” Raphael is shouting now, and I think my neighbors might be able to hear us through the paper-thin walls.

But I don’t care. Maybe I’ll be moving out soon. Looks like the landlord isn’t too happy about having me live here anymore.

I shrug as I continue to stare at him defiantly.

“Was that the vibe that you got from me when we fucked? Did it feel rapey to you? Because from my perspective, it almost looked like you wanted it. I even heard you beg me for it. Or is something wrong with my hearing?” Raphael’s green eyes burn with anger now. He’s on a roll. “Tell me, Piper, because apparently you know everything there is to know about me now.”

“That’s the thing!” I cry out. “That’s the thing, Rafe. I don’t feel like I know you.” I fight down the lump in my throat with a swallow, but it doesn’t work. As my voice breaks, I say, “I can’t trust you.”

Raphael grows quiet. He looks at me with sad eyes.

He’s hurt. I’m hurt.

What have we just done?

Tears prick my eyes, and I know Raphael can see them grow red and fill with water. I wipe my eyes with the back of my hand.

Great, now I’m crying. I hate crying in front of someone else, and now I’m crying and Raphael is looking right at me.

“Princess,” Raphael says in a soft voice as he reaches out a hand toward me. “Hey.”

I jerk my hand away, scooting back further from him on the bed. “No, don’t touch me. And don’t call me ‘princess.’”

“I’m sorry. Can we talk about this?” He puts his hand down on the bed, giving me some space.

“I need to be alone right now.”

“I’ll come back tomorrow so we can talk then, okay?”

I stay quiet.

I think about what I’m about to say. Really think about what I’m about to say.

I’ve been thinking about this all day.

I made my decision long before Raphael walked through the door: if he has lied about the cancer, I’ll have to end this.

“No,” I say. I can tell by the way he flinches that he’s surprised. “I don’t want to talk about it.”

I take the ring that has been lying on the bed by my side and hold it out toward him. I took it off my finger while I was at work.

“What are you doing?” Raphael asks. “I told you, you can keep the ring.”

“I don’t want it.”

“Don’t be silly, princess,” he says. “That was part of the original deal, remember? You earned that by going to my friend’s wedding and my parents’ anniversary party.”

“I don’t want it,” I repeat. “You lied to your family, and I was a part of that.”

“I’m sorry, princess, but I don’t understand. You were okay with the fake engagement before.”

“Yeah, exactly. Before. Before I knew your mom doesn’t really have cancer.”

“Why does it have to change anything between us?”

“Because it’s not something to joke about, Rafe. Not everything is a joke. Not all lies are harmless,” I say quietly. I take a deep breath.

Finally, after a few tense seconds, he says, “I’m sorry, princess. I didn’t know it was going to hurt you like this.”

“Yeah. You didn’t know. Because you don’t really know me, do you? And I don’t really know you.” I look straight at him as my heart shatters into a million sharp pieces in my chest. “I don’t see how this could work out if we don’t even know each other.”

“Hey, it doesn’t have to be a big deal. We’re only just beginning to see each other, right? It’s normal for us not to know everything there is to know about each other. We’ll learn, with time,” Raphael says, his eyes pleading.

It hurts to see him like that, but… “How am I supposed to be with you if I can’t trust you?” I ask. “Just leave me alone. You’ve done enough.”

Raphael looks at me like I’m a china doll that would crack into pieces if he touched me or spoke too loudly around me.

“Okay. I’ll be back tomorrow,” he says softly.

“Take the damn ring,” I demand.

“Okay. I’ll take it with me. For now,” he says with a gentle smile.

That smile makes me want to bury my face in his chest. But I stay strong as he takes the ring lying on the bed between us and walks away.

As the door closes behind him, it’s like a dam has broken. My tears stream down my face, unbidden.

McClaw, who has been napping on my pillow through the whole argument, wakes up and looks at me with concern. He walks toward me, his little orange paws sinking into the bed with every step. He climbs onto my lap and starts to lick my leg with his rough tongue.

“That feels like sandpaper, McClaw,” I say with a sad smile. I pet him. He’s an asshole, but he can be sweet sometimes.

I lie down on the bed, and McClaw climbs up. Standing on my chest, he licks the tears on my cheeks. It’s adorable, but I have to swat him away because it kind of hurts, and I’m already hurting too much.

I push down on McClaw’s spine so he lies flat on my chest. I hug the little ball of ginger fur. “It’s over, McClaw. He’s gone.”

Tears flow from my eyes down over my temples. They soak my bed sheets. My nose starts to get blocked. I sob as I pull McClaw close against me.

It doesn’t matter if Raphael’s coming tomorrow.

I won’t be here.