Page 74 of Faking it with my Bad Boy Crush

Oh no.

The terrible suspicion in my chest started to thaw, replaced immediately by crushing guilt.

"He's building the case?" My voice came out small.

"He's spending every waking hour making sure the criminal prosecution succeeds. Making sure you're protected permanently, not just temporarily." Richard paused. "He asked me to call you this morning. Asked me to explain what's happening, make sure you know he hasn't disappeared or abandoned you. He's fighting for you, Maya. That's all he's been doing."

I closed my eyes, shame washing over me in waves. "I thought he'd taken the settlement. I thought he chose his career over protecting me."

"That's exactly what Marcus wants you to think. It's why he filed the amended lawsuit while Ethan was unreachable—to make you doubt him. To isolate you both." Richard's voice hardened. "Don't give Marcus that satisfaction. Ethan loves you. Everything he's doing is to protect you. Trust that."

After hanging up, I sat in my bakery office, surrounded by heart-shaped decorations for Sweetheart Week, feeling like the worst person in the world.

"So?" Tessa prompted gently.

"He's with the prosecutor. Building the criminal case. That's why he hasn't called." I looked at my best friend. "I almost didn't trust him. I actually thought—for like twenty minutes—that he'd betrayed me."

"Twenty minutes of panic doesn't erase weeks of trust." Tessa sat beside me. "You were scared. You received a devastating lawsuit with no warning. You're human. Cut yourself some slack."

"He's going to think I don't believe in him."

"Or he's going to understand that you were terrified and alone and Marcus deliberately manipulated the situation to make you doubt everything." She squeezed my shoulder. "Give yourself the same grace you'd give him if the situations were reversed."

My phone finally—finally—rang. Ethan's name flashing on the screen.

I answered before the second ring. "Ethan—"

"Maya, I'm so sorry." He sounded exhausted, stressed, guilty. "I just got access to my phone and saw all your messages and the lawsuit notification and—God, I should have found a way to call you. Should have warned you. Should have—"

"Richard explained," I cut him off. "It's okay. I know you've been with the prosecutor."

"It's not okay. You were blindsided by a lawsuit because I was unreachable for two days. That's the opposite of okay." He took a shaky breath. "But Maya, the criminal case is solid. We have everything. Documents, communications, payment records—all of it. The prosecutor is filing charges Monday morning. Conspiracy to commit fraud, extortion, falsifying documents. They're going down."

"That's good." I tried to focus on the victory instead of the fact that I was still being sued for three-quarters of a million dollars. "That means justice actually happens."

"And once the criminal charges are public, Marcus's civil suit becomes much harder to justify. It's one thing to claim malicious disclosure when the fraud is debatable. It's another thing entirely when criminal prosecution proves everything was real."

"But we're still facing seven hundred fifty thousand in damages—"

"Which is why I'm not leaving Seattle until I fix this." His voice was steel now. "I'm meeting with the prosecutor tomorrow to finalize testimony. Then I'm finding the best lawyer I can to defend against this civil suit. I'm not letting Marcus destroy you financially. Whatever it takes, however long it takes, I'm making this right."

A small, petty part of me wanted to point out that "making it right" from Seattle while I dealt with Sweetheart Week alone wasn't exactly ideal. But the larger, more rational part understood that sometimes fighting for someone meant being away from them.

"When are you coming home?" I asked instead.

Silence. Then: "I don't know. Maybe another week? The prosecutor needs me available for follow-up questions. Theethics board scheduled another interview. And I need to deal with Marcus's lawsuit, find representation—"

"Another week." It came out flatter than I intended.

"I'm sorry. I know Sweetheart Week is happening and you need support and we were supposed to have that conversation about our future—"

"It's fine." I tried to sound understanding even though it really, really wasn't. "Do what you need to do. The bakery will survive. I'll survive. We'll talk when you get back."

"Maya—"

"Really, it's fine. I have like forty orders to fill and Tessa's giving me her concerned face, so I should probably go." I stood, needing to move, needing to do something other than feel sorry for myself. "Just... be safe. And call when you can. Even just a text so I know you're alive."

"I love you," he said, the words urgent. "Whatever's happening with the lawsuits or the ethics stuff or how long this takes—I love you. That hasn't changed."