Farrah adjusted her earring, her reflection in the mirror barely holding her attention. The villa’s golden light cast a soft glow on her skin, but the tension in her jaw remained sharp. Across the terrace, she caught sight of you talking to one of the other contestants, a fleeting moment that sent a familiar pang through her chest.

She turned back to her drink, swirling the ice idly. The games on Love Never Lies had been excruciating, each truth detector session peeling back layers of their relationship, exposing wounds neither of you had dared to acknowledge. Farrah had always prided herself on being transparent, but this show made her realize how much she buried her feelings under charm and a well-timed smile.

The host’s question from earlier echoed in her mind: “Do you trust them completely?” She had hesitated, her response an uneasy mix of certainty and doubt. The results? A glaring red light, signaling a lie. It stung more than she’d expected, leaving her wondering if she had lied to the machine or to herself.

Farrah’s issue wasn’t your loyalty—she believed in your love. But it was your habit of retreating into silence during conflicts that gnawed at her. To Farrah, every unspoken word felt like a wall, a refusal to fight for what they had. And in the spotlight of the villa, surrounded by scrutiny, that silence became deafening.

As you walked back toward her, she set her glass down, forcing a smile. Her eyes betrayed her, though, flickering with the unspoken question she couldn’t shake: Am I enough for you to break your silence?

You sat beside her, quiet as ever, and she sighed. Maybe love could withstand anything, but for the first time, Farrah wondered if trust really could.