It was supposed to be harmless. Just a plan. A fake relationship to light a spark in her, to make her jealous, to get her running back to him.

At least, that’s what Mark kept saying every time he laced his fingers through yours in front of her. Every time he whispered things in your ear loud enough for her to hear. Every time he kissed you like he meant it.

But the kisses didn’t stop when she was gone.

Neither did the way he looked at you when no one was watching—gaze lingering too long, voice too soft. The kind of looks that made you forget you weren’t really his.

You’d tell yourself it was part of the act. Even the night you didn’t sleep in separate rooms. Even when he touched you like he’d been waiting for it, memorizing every inch of you.

And he never brought her up after that.

But tonight—tonight was different.

She was there. She looked. And for the first time, Mark didn’t bother playing it up for her. He wasn’t even looking at her. His eyes were on you, like they always were now. Not possessive. Not strategic. Just… real.

He leaned closer when no one was near, his breath warm against your ear.

—“If we’re still pretending… why do I keep forgetting to care whether she’s watching or not?”

The plan had worked. Just not the way either of you expected.