It all started with a phone call that shattered my world. I was locking the door of my apartment when my phone buzzed. I almost ignored it, dismissing it as another spam call, but something made me answer.
“Miss Carter?” The voice on the other end was calm. “This is Dr. Reynolds. I’m calling about your father.”
The words hit me like a punch to the stomach. My father’s condition had worsened, and without immediate surgery, his chances were slim. I couldn’t breathe. The surgery cost was more than I could ever afford. I had no savings, no family to turn to. My job at the café barely covered rent.
After a sleepless night, I went to work. I asked my manager, Lisa, for an advance, but it wasn’t enough. It wasn’t even close. As I turned toward the café floor, I felt someone’s eyes on me. I glanced up and saw him—sitting at his usual spot, a man in a suit, his eyes locked onto mine. He wasn’t like my regular customer, who had been visiting the café for months. This man was different.
I tried to ignore him, but his gaze stayed on me. I had no idea who he was or what he wanted. But soon enough, I would find out.
That evening, after my shift, I walked home, my mind spinning with thoughts of the surgery and the bills. A car slowed beside me, and the tinted window rolled down. The voice that came from it was familiar.
“Miss Carter,” he said.
I froze. It was the man from the café.
“You don’t need to be afraid,” he said, reading my hesitation. “I just want to talk.”
I turned to him. “Who are you?”
He introduced himself as Steven. He had been listening to my conversation at the café and had a proposition for me. His father was about to hand over control of their family business, but there was a condition—he needed to be engaged. And Steven needed a fiancée for a few weeks. In return, he would pay for my father’s surgery.
“How much is this going to cost me?” I asked, my voice tight.
“Nothing. You just need to play the part,” he said, his gaze intense.
I could have refused, but the thought of losing my father was unbearable. I said yes, and an hour later, I was in a dressing room, staring at my reflection in an expensive gown. I didn’t recognize the woman in the mirror, but I would have to become her for the next few weeks.
The night of Steven’s father’s birthday party, we made our grand debut as a couple. The mansion was massive, and the people inside were all dressed to the nines, sipping champagne and chatting in hushed voices. I tried to play my part, walking with grace, smiling when necessary, keeping my posture perfect.
Steven was a pro. He was smooth, confident, reassuring. We made our way through the crowd, and then I saw him—the man I had admired in silence for months. Oliver, Steven’s brother.
He walked toward me, his gaze meeting mine. He didn’t smile at first, just watched me closely. Then he spoke.
“Fancy seeing you here,” he said casually, stepping closer. “I’ve spent months trying to work up the courage to ask you out. But I guess I didn’t need to. My brother beat me to it.”
I was frozen. He had been coming to the café every morning. He had noticed me all along. And now here we were, standing in the same room. I could feel the tension between us, an undeniable connection that made everything feel so wrong.
“I came to that café just to see you,” Oliver continued. “But I never said anything. Instead, I followed you home a few times… not in a creepy way, just because I didn’t know what to say.”
I should have told him the truth. I should have confessed that I wasn’t really Steven’s fiancée. But then I remembered my father, the surgery, the bills. I slipped my hand into Steven’s and leaned in to kiss him. It felt like the first time a lie had ever tasted so bitter.
The next morning, Steven gave me a check, more than enough to cover my father’s surgery. But as I stared at the check, I felt nothing but emptiness.
“You’re playing your part well,” Steven said. “Maybe we should see if there’s something real between us.”
I couldn’t. I had already realized the truth. I wasn’t in love with Steven. I was in love with Oliver.
“I can’t,” I said, setting the check down. “I thought I could pretend, but I can’t keep lying to you. The truth is, I’ve been in love with your brother.”
Steven’s face hardened, his fingers tapping on the table. He didn’t say anything at first, just looked at me. Then, finally, he stood and walked out without another word, leaving me with the check and a heart full of guilt.
Later that night, as I was locking up the café, the door opened. It was Oliver.
“Take it,” he said, holding out a paycheck. “Even if we never see each other again, I want to help your father.”
I couldn’t believe it. He knew everything, but he wasn’t angry. He just wanted to help.
“You didn’t have to lie,” he said gently. “You could’ve just asked. No deals, no charades.”
Tears stung my eyes as I looked at the paycheck, then back at him. “I used to put an extra cookie on your plate, hoping you’d notice.”
Oliver smiled softly. “You don’t need to explain. I understand now.”
The weight of the situation felt lighter, and I let Oliver take my hand. He looked at the check in my hand, then at me.
“Come on,” he said. “Let’s go to the hospital. We’ll figure out what your father needs.”
As we walked together, I realized that the burden I had carried for so long was finally being shared. And for the first time in weeks, I felt hope.