way. Pretend this conversation never happened.

But then what? My father would suffer. His condition would worsen.

I didn’t remember saying yes.

But an hour later, I was in a dressing room, surrounded by silk dresses and designer heels, staring at a reflection I didn’t recognize.

The girl in the mirror looked polished. Elegant. Someone who belonged in Steven’s world.

I wasn’t that girl.

But for the following few weeks… I would have to be.

***

Steven’s father’s birthday came. It was our grand debut as a couple.

The mansion was breathtaking. It wasn’t just big, the kind of place you saw in magazines, the kind of house that didn’t feel real.

A live band played soft jazz in the background, and waiters in crisp black uniforms weaved through the crowd with trays of champagne.

I kept my shoulders back, my posture perfect, just as Steven had instructed.

Every movement mattered. Every glance, every smile. We were on display.

Steven played his part flawlessly.

He smiled at all the right moments and whispered small reassurances whenever I hesitated.

“Relax,” he murmured in my ear as we walked further into the room. “You look perfect.”

His father, a tall, commanding man approached us. His sharp eyes scanned me from head to toe.

“Father,” Steven said smoothly.

“This is Sophie.”

“Ah, so this is the young woman you’ve been hiding from us,” his father said, his voice rich with skepticism. “Lovely.”

And then I saw him. My regular.

The man whose absence I had felt that very morning. The one I had secretly admired for months without knowing his name.

But finally, I did. Steven’s father introduced him with a proud smile.

Oliver.

Steven’s brother.

His gaze locked onto mine, and I knew instantly—he recognized me too. He didn’t approach right away. He waited.

He watched. And then, when the moment was just right, he made his move.

“Fancy seeing you here,” he said casually, stepping closer.

“Oliver…”

“You know, I’ve spent months trying to work up the nerve to ask you out. But it turns out I didn’t need to.

My brother beat me to it.”

“I…”

“I came to that café every morning just to see you,” he continued, ignoring my attempt to speak. “I thought maybe one day, I’d stop being a coward and say something. But I never did.”

He let out a quiet laugh.

“Instead, I followed you home a few times. Not in a creepy way…”

“Oliver.”

“…just because I couldn’t find the right words.”

I could tell him the truth. I could explain everything and end the lie before it spiraled any further.

But then my father’s face flashed in my mind.

The hospital. The money.

I turned away, slipped my hand into Steven’s, and leaned up to kiss him.

The first time a lie had ever tasted so bitter.

***

The next morning, Steven placed a check in front of me.

“Here.”

I stared at the paper. The amount was more than enough to cover my father’s surgery and keep him comfortable for months.

My hands trembled as I picked it up. But instead of relief, all I felt was emptiness.

“You are playing your part well. Maybe we should continue this… see if there’s something real between us.”

I set the check back on the table.

“I can’t.

I thought I could pretend, but even one more day would be unbearable. The truth is… from the very beginning, I’ve been in love with your brother.”

For a moment, Steven said nothing. His jaw tightened, his fingers tapping against the table.

I braced for anger, accusations, something. But when he finally spoke, his voice was calm.

“I can’t keep you here. Thank you for the evening.”

His eyes flicked to the check on the table before he pocketed it without a word.

Then, without another glance, he walked out, leaving me alone.

***

The following night, just as I was locking up the café, the door opened.

Oliver! He stepped forward, holding something out.

“Take it,” he said, pressing the paycheck into my hands. “Even if we never see each other again.

I want to help your father.”

He knew. Steven must have told him everything.

“Oliver, I…”

“You didn’t have to lie,” he interrupted gently. “You could’ve just asked.

I would have helped. No deals. No charades.”

Tears burned at the back of my eyes.

I looked down at the check, then back at him.

“I was always happy when you came to the café. I used to put an extra cookie on your plate, hoping you’d notice.”

“I noticed.”

“I made a desperate choice. I just wanted to help my father…”

“You don’t have to explain.

Steven realized his mistake because of how honest you were. And because of that, I get to be here with you now.”

The burden of guilt, of fear, of uncertainty, it wasn’t all gone, but it was lighter. Oliver glanced at the check in my hands, then back at me.

“Come on.

Let’s go to the hospital and talk to the doctor about your dad’s treatment.”

I exhaled slowly, feeling the weight of everything settle into something new. Something right. I nodded, letting him take my hand.

That time, I wasn’t walking my road alone.

Source: amomama