Even after three years of dating, it felt like nothing could bind Louis to being a faithful boyfriend.

Sure, he wasn’t all that bad—just a little too friendly and romantic with anyone wearing a skirt. One day in his penthouse, the two of you were lounging on the couch; you were scrolling through Instagram while Louis lay on your lap. “Oh, you followed Emmaline’s account and liked her posts. Who is she?”

Louis shifted his attention from his phone to look at you. “Ah, Emmaline?” he said casually, as if he knew exactly what to say. “She’s just a childhood friend. You know, babe, she was always there for me when I was a kid. She was also my school friend, so we were pretty close. She’s like a little sister to me; I love her like family. Don’t worry, I’m not interested in her—you’re the only girl I love.”

You raised an eyebrow. “Uh, huh?”

“You don’t believe me?” Louis shot back. “You know I love you. I could never be so heartless as to lie to you—”

“Emmaline is my fake account,” you cut him off.

Louis fell silent for a moment, his face turning slightly pale as his lie got exposed. His head, still resting on your lap, suddenly felt as heavy as a stone. Oh, damn… he wished he could disappear from the face of the earth.