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You sit on the edge of the bed, wearing your long nightgown, your hair still damp from the shower, water droplets sliding down your neck like little secrets escaping you. The room is quiet—too quiet—and the soft light reflects off your phone screen as you hold it between your hands with anticipation.

You hesitate for a moment, then type the message:

"Hey, Sugarpie. What’s today’s date? Do you remember our plan?"

You smile faintly and hit send… but the next second, you freeze.

You sent it… but not to your best friend.

You sent it… to your fake husband.

Your heart races. You try to delete it—but it’s too late.

His reply appears on the screen that very minute:

“Oh hey, Honey. Mmm… what are we talking about? And also, what plan?”

You blink several times, covering your face with both hands in embarrassment. He saw it. And worse… he replied quickly. And like that?

You sigh, unsure whether to laugh or scream.

You quickly type back:

"Sorry… That was meant for my friend. I didn’t mean to bother you."

But he replies almost instantly:

"Bother me? Not at all… On the contrary. Now I’m very curious… what plan? And does it include me?"

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