I never thought pretending could feel so…. real.
Every morning Sebastian and I walked into the office hand in hand, nodding at the staff who now whispered behind our backs–but not with suspicion. No, they whispered with awe, with curiosity, with admiration. We were the “power couple.” The Rhys couple.
And somehow… I was okay with that.
At meetings, he would pull the chair out for me, sometimes place a hand on the small of my back. He’d glance at me mid–presentation, sharing inside jokes with just his eyes. At lunch, he’d order my favorite dishes before I could even speak. It was all part of the act- we both knew that. But the way his smile lingered on me when no one was looking, the warmth in his voice when he said my name…
It didn’t feel like acting.
One quiet evening, I sat curled up on the couch, sorting through emails on my laptop while Lucas lounged across from me with a bowl of popcorn balanced on his lap. The TV buzzed with some random show neither of us was really watching, just background noise filling the space.
Lucas, bored as ever, flung a pillow at my legs. “You’ve been glued to that screen for an hour. I need entertainment. Show me something funny.”
Trolled my eyes and opened my gallery, figuring I’d dig up a meme or a silly screenshot to shut him up. But as I scrolled, my thumb hovered over a photo that made my breath catch.
It was from the charity gala last week.
Me and Sebastian.
His hand rested lightly on my waist. Mine was against his chest. We weren’t even posing, not really–we were mid–laugh, mid–something. It looked… real. Like we were real.
I didn’t even realize I’d been staring until Lucas scooted closer, peeking at my screen.
“Wait.” He grabbed the laptop and held it closer. “Is that… is that Sebastian? And you?”
I snatched it back. “Mind your business.”
Lucas narrowed his eyes. “You’re smiling.”
“So?” I said, pretending to focus on my inbox. “It’s fake. You know that.”
“Yeah, but your smile isn’t.”
I groaned. “Oh please.”
He raised a brow, the kind of look only a little brother can give–smug, suspicious, way too observant.
“You’re smiling like a girl with a crush,” he said.
I snorted. “No. Definitely not.”
Lucas folded his arms and leaned back on the couch, smug smile growing. “You know… you used to say the same thing about Colton once.”
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You’re smiling like a girl with a crush,” he said.
I snorted. “No. Definitely not.”
Lucas folded his arms and leaned back on the couch, smug smile growing. “You know. you used to say the same thing about Colton once.
That made me stop cold.
I looked away, the memory pressing into my ribs like a weight.
Lucas’s voice softened. “Ellie. I’m not saying it’s a bad thing. I’m just saying… don’t lie to yourself again.”
“I’m not lying.” I whispered, more to myself than to him. “Sebastian and I–we’re pretending, okay? He needed a wife, I needed a break. It’s an arrangement. That’s all.”
Lucas gave me a long look, then shrugged. “Okay. If you say so.”
But the words stuck to me long after he went back to his popcorn. I glanced at the photo again, my thumb hovering over the screen.
It was just a game.
So why did my heart feel like it was no longer playing?
I set the phone down and leaned back in the chair, staring at the ceiling.
No. I wasn’t falling for Sebastian. I couldn’t.
I promised myself that love wouldn’t blind me again. Not after Colton. Not after what that did to me. I gave everything to a man who betrayed me without remorse. I wouldn’t be that
girl again.
But Sebastian…
He wasn’t Colton.
And that, somehow, made it more terrifying
Days passed, and our “fake” marriage only grew more convincing. Sometimes, I’d forget it was all pretend. Like the night he brought home two pints of my favorite ice cream after a long meeting, or the morning he woke up early just to drive me to a site visit because my usual car was delayed.
Sweet gestures. Gentle smiles.
And they were starting to chip away at my walls.
Which was why I had to say something.
“Sebastian,” I said, one night as we entered the apartment.
He glanced up from unbuttoning his cufflinks. “Yes?”
“You don’t need to be sweet when it’s just the two of us.”
He paused. “I’m not sure I follow.”
I shifted on my feet. “I mean…. I get the hand–holding in front of people. The smiles. The pretending. But here? When it’s just us? You don’t have to do all that.”
He stared at me for a moment, and something in his eyes dimmed.
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“You don’t need to be sweet when It’s just the two of us
He paused. “I’m not sure I follow.”
I shifted on my feet. “I mean… I get the hand–holding in front of people. The smiles. The pretending. But here? When it’s just us? You don’t have to do all that.”
He stared at me for a moment, and something in his eyes dimmed.
“I see,” he said softly. “I didn’t realize being kind was making you uncomfortable.”
“It’s not that,” I said quickly. “I just–I don’t want to blur the lines. This is fake, remember? I can’t afford to=”
“To feel anything?” he finished for me, his voice quiet.
I swallowed. “Exactly.”
He nodded once, slowly, like he was processing it, and then turned away. “Noted.”
I didn’t know why my chest tightened as he walked into his room without another word. Later that night, I went into the pantry to organize some snacks we’d bought during the week. Anything to distract myself from the weird tension that now floated in the apartment like a storm cloud.
The television from the living room was still on. I wasn’t really paying attention until I heard
the anchor’s voice:
“-model Elise Vaughan returns to Berlin after a two–year hiatus. Sources say the former flame of billionaire Sebastian Rhys may be rekindling something now that she’s back on
the scene…”
I froze.
My fingers stilled on a bag of crackers, and my stomach dropped.
Elise Vaughan.
A name I hadn’t heard in years, but I remembered it vividly.
I peeked around the corner and saw the screen–her photo beside Sebastian’s from an old magazine cover. She was stunning, of course. Tall, radiant, with that model–perfect smile.
They looked good together.
And she was back.
I stared at the image for a long moment. That strange, sharp ache returned to my chest, like a paper cut in the shape of jealousy.
This shouldn’t hurt. Not like this. I wasn’t supposed to care.
But I did.
God, I did.
And as the segment ended, and I sat alone in that quiet kitchen, I asked myself the one question I had tried so hard to avoid.
What if this was happening all over again?
History… repeating itself?
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G
I peeked diuid the cuiner and saw the screener proto pesive sevdana u dit vid magazine cover. She was stunning, of course. Tall, radiant, with that model–perfect smile.
They looked good together.
And she was back.
I stared at the image for a long moment. That strange, sharp ache returned to my chest, like a paper cut in the shape of jealousy.
This shouldn’t hurt. Not like this. I wasn’t supposed to care.
But I did.
God, I did.
And as the segment ended, and I sat alone in that quiet kitchen, I asked myself the one question I had tried so hard to avoid.
What if this was happening all over again?
History… repeating itself?
Sebastian wouldn’t choose me.
Not when she was back.
Not when he had loved her once.
And me? I was just the fill–in. The placeholder. The fake.
I leaned back against the counter, exhaled shakily, and whispered to no one but myself- “Don’t fall again, Ellie. Don’t be that fool.”
