jake loved her with a quiet intensity. it wasn’t the kind of love that shouted its presence; it lingered in stolen glances, in the way he waited for her laugh, in how he memorized her favorite drink blend. but she never noticed — or maybe she chose not to.

she agreed to date him because everyone said it made sense. their families had known each other forever, and he was, by all accounts, the perfect match. she told herself it wasn’t a big deal. jake was sweet, steady. he’d never make her cry. maybe love wasn’t supposed to be passionate. maybe it was just supposed to feel safe.

but safety didn’t spark butterflies in her chest. it didn’t make her pulse quicken when he held her hand, nor did it make her miss him when he wasn’t around. every moment with him felt… polite. like she was going through the motions.

jake didn’t see it — or pretended not to. he looked at her like she’d hung the stars, his smile soft every time she was near. he noticed how she barely touched the bracelet he’d given her for her birthday, how her laughter always sounded forced when he told a joke. still, he tried. he always tried.

she sat across from him one evening, the silence heavy between them. jake was fiddling with the edge of his napkin, trying to find the right words. he finally asked, “are you happy with me?”

her heart stung at the question. he deserved someone who didn’t hesitate, who could say “yes” without second-guessing it. but she nodded anyway. “of course,” she lied, her voice steady.

his smile didn’t quite reach his eyes, but he didn’t press her further.

and so, they stayed like that — him loving her entirely, her staying because it was what everyone expected. neither brave enough to let the truth shatter the fragile facade.