I'm running late, and a wave of anxiety crashes over me. Here we go again—why does this always happen when it really matters? It's never intentional, but life has a habit of throwing chaos at me when I least expect it. I glance around frantically, my heart sinking—no taxis in sight. Just my luck. Why does fate always seem to play these games with me?
* * *
Eventually, I flag one down, slipping into the back seat as quickly as I can.
"Can you pick up the pace?" I urge the driver, my voice tinged with panic.
"Sure thing," he says, glancing at me through the rearview mirror. I catch a glimpse of myself—tense shoulders, nervous eyes. Yep, it's written all over my face.
When I finally step out onto the busy street, I see Alex waiting nearby. He stands with a strange mix of hope and worry etched into his features. As I rush toward him, I try to steady my breath.
"I'm so sorry I'm late," I say quickly. "It was impossible to find a taxi."
"It's okay," he says gently, but his eyes say otherwise. There's a storm beneath the calm. "Listen… I really need your help."
I stare at him, unsure of what's coming.
"My parents won't stop pressuring me to settle down and get married," he begins, his voice low and tight. "Just the thought of it spins me out—I'm not ready. But if I tell them that, they'll just brush it off. That's why… I need you to pretend to be my girlfriend. Just for a little while."
I blink, processing.
"I know it's a lot," he adds. "But I can't do this alone."
I take a breath, the air suddenly heavy around us. "Okay… I get it. I'll help," I say, keeping my voice steady. "But honestly, you don't need to worry about helping me back. And as for the other guy—I don't even think I really like him. It was just a spark. A moment."
He nods, a small smile breaking through the tension. "We'll talk more about it later," he says, gently taking my hand. It's comforting, somehow. Like we're walking into this mess together.
Then, he calls out, "Mom! Dad!" His voice carries both nervousness and excitement.
"I want you to meet someone. Someone I really like," he says, glancing at me with a shy smile.
"Namaste, Uncle and Aunty," I say softly, heart pounding.
Their expressions shift as I speak. Warmth spreads across their faces, like my words wrapped around them and melted their initial hesitation.
"Oh wow, she's beautiful!" his mother exclaims, eyes lighting up with joy. "I had no idea my son had such lovely taste! We're so happy to meet you, beta!"
His father steps forward with a kind smile. "Welcome to our family. Thank you for coming into our son's life. I hope he treats you with the love and respect you deserve."
"Thank you, Aunty and uncle" I reply, genuinely touched. "And thank you for raising such a wonderful son. He's incredibly kind and protective."
For a moment, I wish their warmth were meant for me—for something real. Their kindness wraps around me like a cozy blanket, and for a few seconds, it feels like I actually belong. Almost like we are a couple. But a flicker of anxiety creeps in. What if they take this too seriously? I don't want to be the reason Alex feels pressured.
As the evening winds down, Alex offers to drop me home. As we walk, he turns to me with concern.
"I'm sorry if my parents asked anything that made you uncomfortable," he says quietly. "You don't need to do anything else. I'll take it from here. And I meant what I said—I'm still here to help you with that guy."
I smile, thinking of his parents. "Honestly, I loved meeting them. They were so warm and welcoming. I've never experienced that kind of affection from anyone's family before. It just makes me a little sad that it's not real. I hope they don't get the wrong idea."
He chuckles. "They're just like that—adorable and dramatic. They'll get over it."
"I hope you're right," I say, uncertainty lingering in my voice. "But like I said earlier, I really don't need help with him. I think I just got carried away in the moment… you know, love at first sight and all that. But real love? It takes more than a glance."
Alex raises an eyebrow. "Come on. I still think you like him. There's no shame in that! Let yourself feel it—it's okay."
"I don't know," I admit. "I've got a therapy session on Sunday. Let me see him first. If I still feel something, I'll let you know."
"That's not fair," he says, half-joking. "I want to help!"
With a playful grin, I reply, "Fine. But only when I actually need help."
"Deal," he says, grinning. "And now… how about ice cream? I know a place."
I laugh, unable to resist. "Sounds perfect."
We spent the evening laughing, sharing stories, and enjoying ice cream like kids in a summer dream. It was the kind of carefree joy I didn't know I'd been craving. Usually, I'm quiet, reserved—wrapped up in solitude. But something shifted that night.
For the first time in a long time, I felt free.
Now, as I lie on my bed, thoughts spinning and cheeks warm, I wonder—what if Alex is right, the one I'm meant to fall for that therapist?
The idea makes me blush. I bury my face in a pillow, trying to hide my smile from no one but myself.
Maybe it's silly.
Maybe it's too soon.
But I'm already counting down to Sunday. I can't wait to see him again.
And maybe—just maybe—he'll feel the same way.