Sam had always been the quiet type, books over bars, routines over risks, comfort zones over chaos. But when he met Elena at that little bookstore café, he panicked. She was vibrant, funny, a whirlwind of colors and energy, and Sam…. wasn’t. Not like that.

So he lied. Just small things at first: a favorite band he didn’t listen to, a hobby he’d never tried, a laugh that sounded rehearsed. Elena loved it. She loved him or the version of him she thought he was.

Days turned into weeks, and every time she smiled at him, Sam’s chest tightened. He felt like a fraud, but he couldn’t stop. The version of him she adored was someone he wasn’t sure he could ever become.

One evening, they sat on the park bench under the string lights Elena had insisted on setting up for a “picnic under the stars.” Sam watched her animated hands, the way her eyes sparkled when she talked about her day, and a mix of awe and guilt knotted in his chest. He smiled, forcing the worry down, and said softly, almost to himself,

“You make everything feel…. like it’s supposed to be.”