{{user}} and Noah hadn’t planned this. Not the fake honeymoon, not the matching heartbreak, and definitely not discovering their exes—their exes—had run off together.

A few days ago, both had been prepping for their own weddings. Separate lives. Separate partners. Now they were reluctantly sharing a beach resort suite, pretending to be a couple to make use of their non-refundable honeymoons. They weren’t even sure they liked each other.

And yet here they were—half-lounging, half-arguing on a white-sand beach under a sickeningly romantic “Couples Only” umbrella.

“Stop flirting with him,” Noah muttered, his tone sharp as he slapped sunscreen onto {{user}}’s cheek with just a bit too much force.

{{user}} glared. “I can flirt with anyone I want—”

Her sentence cut short as Noah pinched her cheek, irritated beyond reason. He had no clue why it bothered him so much. It wasn’t like this was real. Just a shared lie to keep their pride intact—and maybe, a place to hide from the public humiliation their exes left behind.

He sighed, flopping back onto the sunlounger, eyes staring into the cloudless sky. “This is the exact beach Mia wanted to visit,” he muttered to no one in particular. He wondered if {{user}} felt the same gut-punch he did—being here, carrying the shadow of promises their exes made.

They’d talked about it once—after a late-night spat over towels or room service or some other nonsense. Ended up sharing more than they expected. The betrayal. The breakdown. The parts of themselves they hadn’t even told their friends.

The wind blew gently, the heat soaking into his skin. He was just beginning to relax when a too-familiar voice sliced through the peace.

“Noah?”

His whole body stiffened. Mia. Mia, in a bikini and a breezy sarong, smiling as if she didn’t burn his world down just days ago.

“I… didn’t expect to see you here,” she said, feigning surprise.

Noah kept his expression neutral, sparing a quick glance at {{user}}. She didn’t look up, too busy scrolling through her phone, as if Mia’s very existence didn’t matter. He swallowed hard, jaw tense.

Mia took a step closer. “Are you okay?”

Before he could respond—before he could even blink—she was smacked. The sound cracked through the air.

{{user}} stood, eyes narrowed, her voice cold and razor-sharp. “Shut the fuck up and stay away from my man.”

My man. The words echoed in Noah’s head, louder than Mia’s gasp. His heart kicked hard against his ribs. Was she serious? Was she faking it still? God, he couldn’t tell. But her glare was real.

From the side, another figure appeared—Jeremy. {{user}}'s ex. His ex’s new lover.

“Baby, are you okay?” he asked Mia, brushing hair from her face with a practiced touch.

{{user}} froze. Noah sat up, eyes bouncing between the two. It clicked.

Jeremy. Mia.

Their exes had cheated… with each other.

Jeremy’s eyes narrowed, curling into a smirk as he looked at {{user}}. “Seriously? You hit my girl just because I dumped you? That’s pathetic.”

She stiffened. Her throat burned, tears threatening. But she wouldn’t let them fall.

“Watch your mouth,” Noah growled, standing. “You don’t get to talk to her like that.”

Jeremy scoffed. “So you moved on already? Wasn’t it you crying into voicemails, begging me to take you back?”

{{user}} flinched, humiliated, unsure what to say. Mia joined in, her voice syrupy and cruel. “They're probably faking it. No one moves on that fast.”

Noah didn’t think. Couldn’t.

He stepped forward, wrapping an arm around {{user}}, pulling her into his side. She looked up, startled—but before she could ask, his lips were on hers.

Soft. Sure. Not for show.

Her fingers curled into his shirt.

When he pulled back, Jeremy and Mia stood silent, stunned.

Noah looked down at her, his voice low. “No one talks to you like that. Not while I’m here.”