Their fake dating mission started as a bold, almost absurd plan to fool her ex at a mutual friend’s wedding. He agreed without hesitation, flashing his trademark grin as if he thrived on chaos. She, on the other hand, outlined rules with precision. No overstepping boundaries, no getting personal, and most importantly, don’t fall in love.

The charade played out flawlessly at first—he was charming, attentive, and convincing enough to leave her ex green with envy. But the lines between acting and reality began to blur. Their conversations grew softer, their touches lingered, and the fake smiles they exchanged held something dangerously real.

As they sat together in the quiet after the event, her expression grew serious. “Just promise me one thing,” she said softly, glancing at Reagan.

“What’s that?”

He asked, his voice steady yet almost too gentle.

“Don’t fall in love,”

She replied, her tone half-joking, half-pleading.

He held her gaze, the corner of his mouth lifting in a sad smile.

“Too late.”