The afternoon light filtered through Sophia's apartment windows, casting long shadows across the living room.
She stood in front of her closet, arms crossed, staring at the rows of meticulously organized clothes.
This shouldn't be difficult.
It was just a meeting. A conversation. Nothing more.
And yet, she'd changed three times already.
The first outfit—a tailored blazer and slacks—felt too formal. Like she was going to a board meeting.
The second—a cashmere sweater and jeans—felt too casual. Like she wasn't taking this seriously.
The third—a silk blouse and tailored trousers—felt... off. She couldn't explain why.
Now she stood there in the fourth option: a simple cream sweater, dark jeans, minimal jewelry.
Casual but polished. Approachable but still her.
She checked her reflection in the mirror.
Her hair was down today, falling in soft waves past her shoulders. She rarely wore it down.
Why did she choose today?
She didn't want to answer that question.
Her phone buzzed on the dresser.
Clara.
"Good luck with your totally-not-a-date meeting. Try not to overthink it. (I know you're already overthinking it.)"
Sophia's lips twitched despite herself.
She typed back: "It's not a date."
Clara's response was immediate: "Sure, Jan."
Sophia set the phone down, exhaling slowly.
This was practical. They needed to coordinate. To make sure their story was airtight before Friday.
That was all.
She grabbed her bag, checked her reflection one more time, then headed for the door.
But as she reached for the handle, she paused.
Her heart was beating faster than it should.
She closed her eyes briefly, steadying herself.
Then left.
Meanwhile in the dorm room.
"Hold still."
Jane stood in the middle of the hostel room while Mia circled her like a fashion consultant, eyeing her outfit critically.
"Mia, it's fine."
"It's not fine. You're meeting Dr. Fancy Car. You need to look good."
"It's not a date."
"Didn't say it was." Mia tugged at the hem of Jane's sweater, adjusting it slightly. "But that doesn't mean you should show up looking like you just rolled out of bed."
Jane glanced down at herself. Jeans, a soft grey sweater, her usual sneakers. Simple. Comfortable.
"What's wrong with this?"
"Nothing. It's very... you." Mia stepped back, hands on her hips. "But maybe lose the hoodie?"
Jane had been reaching for her zip-up hoodie on the bed. She paused. "Why?"
"Because you're nervous and you hide in that thing when you're nervous."
Jane's cheeks flushed. "I'm not nervous."
Mia gave her a look. "You've checked your phone six times in the last ten minutes."
"I was just—"
"Nervous."
Jane sighed, dropping the hoodie back on the bed. "Fine. No hoodie."
Mia grinned. "There we go. Now you look cute."
"I'm not trying to look cute."
"And yet, you do." Mia grabbed Jane's shoulders, turning her toward the small mirror on the wall. "See? Perfect."
Jane stared at her reflection. Her hair was pulled back in a loose ponytail, a few strands framing her face. The sweater was simple but flattering. She looked... normal.
Why did that feel insufficient?
"Stop overthinking," Mia said, reading her mind. "You look great. She's lucky you agreed to this whole thing."
Jane's chest tightened. "It's just a meeting."
"Right. Just a meeting." Mia's tone was light, but her eyes were knowing. "With the woman you're fake-dating. Who you definitely don't have real feelings for."
Jane shot her a look. "Mia—"
"I'm just saying." Mia held up her hands. "Be careful, okay? I know you. You're going to go in there all logical and practical, and then she's going to smile at you or say something sweet, and you're going to forget this is all pretend."
Jane swallowed. "I won't."
"Promise?"
Jane wanted to promise. She really did.
But the words wouldn't come.
Mia sighed, softer now. "Just... don't lose yourself in this, okay?"
Jane nodded. "I'll be careful."
Mia pulled her into a quick hug. "Good. Now go. And text me updates."
"I'm not texting you updates."
"You will." Mia grinned. "Because you love me and I'm nosy."
Jane laughed despite herself, grabbing her bag and heading for the door.
As she stepped into the hallway, her phone buzzed.
She pulled it out.
A message from an hour ago. The address of the park.
She stared at it for a moment, her thumb hovering over the screen.
Then she pocketed the phone and started walking.
The park was quiet in the late afternoon, dappled sunlight filtering through the trees. A few joggers passed by. A couple sat on a bench near the fountain.
Sophia arrived first.
She stood near a pathway lined with benches, hands in her pockets, watching the gentle sway of leaves overhead.
She checked her phone. 3:02 PM.
Jane was late.
Not by much. But enough for Sophia to notice.
Enough for doubt to creep in.
What if she didn't come?
What if she changed her mind?
What if—
"Hi."
Sophia turned.
Jane stood a few feet away, slightly out of breath, her bag slung over one shoulder. Her cheeks were flushed, whether from walking quickly or nerves, Sophia couldn't tell.
"Hi," Sophia said, her voice softer than she intended.
Jane stepped closer, offering a small, uncertain smile. "Sorry. The bus was late."
"It's fine."
They stood there for a moment, the silence stretching between them—not uncomfortable, just... weighted.
"Should we sit?" Jane gestured toward a nearby bench.
"Yes. Of course."
They walked over, sitting side by side, leaving a careful distance between them.
For a moment, neither spoke.
Then Sophia exhaled, turning slightly toward Jane. "Thank you. For coming."
"You asked me to."
"I know. But still." Sophia's gaze dropped briefly. "I wouldn't have blamed you if you'd said no."
Jane looked at her, something unreadable flickering in her eyes. "I said I'd help. I meant it."
Sophia nodded slowly. "The dinner is Friday. At my father's house. Marissa will be there, obviously. My stepbrother, Ethan, will probably be there too. He's... kinder than she is."
"Okay."
"We'll need a story. How we met. How long we've been seeing each other."
Jane nodded. "Right. The details."
"We can keep it simple. We met at the café. You were working. I came in for coffee. We started talking."
"And then?"
Sophia hesitated. "Then... I asked you out."
Jane's eyebrows lifted slightly. "You asked me out?"
"Is that a problem?"
"No, just—" Jane's lips twitched. "I didn't picture you as the type to make the first move."
Sophia's expression softened, almost amused. "Why not?"
"I don't know. You seem... careful. Like you think everything through first."
"I do."
"So why would you ask me out?"
The question hung between them.
Sophia looked away, her gaze drifting toward the fountain. "Because... sometimes you meet someone and you just know."
The words came out quieter than she meant them to.
Jane was silent for a moment. Then, softly: "Know what?"
Sophia turned back, meeting her eyes. "That they're worth the risk."
Jane's breath caught.
For a moment, neither of them moved.
Then Sophia cleared her throat, breaking the spell. "We can say we've been seeing each other for a few weeks. Nothing too serious yet, but... enough."
"Enough for what?"
"Enough that I'd bring you to meet my family."
Jane nodded slowly. "Okay. That works."
Another pause.
Then Jane asked, "What do I need to know about them? Your family?"
Sophia's expression shifted, something heavier settling over her features. "My father is... traditional. Successful. He built the hospital from nothing. He's proud of what he's accomplished. And he wants me to carry that forward."
"And your stepmother?"
Sophia's jaw tightened. "Marissa is... calculating. Everything she does has a purpose. She doesn't approve of me running the hospital. She wants it for Ethan."
"Even though you're the one qualified?"
"Especially because I'm qualified." Sophia's voice was quiet, but there was an edge to it. "She sees me as an obstacle. And now that she thinks I'm... distracted... she'll use it."
Jane frowned. "Use it how?"
"To prove I'm not focused. That I'm not serious about the hospital. That I'm choosing personal life over professional responsibility."
"But that's not true."
Sophia looked at her, something soft and grateful in her eyes. "No. It's not."
They sat in silence for a moment.
Then Jane said quietly, "I'll do my best. To make it convincing."
"I know you will."
Another beat.
Then Sophia's gaze dropped, noticing Jane's outfit for the first time—really noticing it.
The jeans. The simple sweater. The sneakers.
She hesitated, then spoke carefully. "Jane... the dinner is going to be formal. My father's house. Marissa will be dressed impeccably. Ethan will probably be in a suit."
Jane's expression shifted, understanding dawning. "Oh."
"I don't mean—" Sophia stopped herself. "You look fine. You always look—" She caught herself again. "I just mean... you might need something a bit more formal. For the occasion."
Jane looked down at herself, her cheeks flushing slightly. "I don't really have anything like that."
"I know. That's why—" Sophia paused, then met her eyes. "Let me take you shopping."
Jane blinked. "What?"
"Let me buy you something for the dinner. It's the least I can do. I'm the one dragging you into this."
"Sophia, I can't—"
"You can. Please." Sophia's voice was gentle but insistent. "I know this is... a lot. And I know I'm asking you to pretend to be something you're not. The least I can do is make sure you feel comfortable."
Jane hesitated, pride warring with practicality.
Then, quietly: "Are you sure?"
"I'm sure."
Jane exhaled slowly. "Okay."
Sophia's expression softened, relief flickering across her features. "Tomorrow? After your classes?"
"I finish at two."
"Perfect. I'll pick you up."
Jane nodded, her heart doing that thing again—that flutter she couldn't control.
They sat there for a moment longer, the park humming softly around them.
Then Jane stood. "I should go. I have homework."
Sophia stood as well. "Of course."
They faced each other, the space between them feeling both too far and too close.
"Thank you," Sophia said quietly. "For all of this."
Jane's lips curved into a small, genuine smile. "You keep thanking me."
"Because I mean it."
Jane held her gaze for a beat longer than necessary.
Then turned and walked away.
Sophia watched her go, her heart still beating just a little too fast.
Tomorrow.
Shopping.
Another meeting.
Another chance to blur the lines even further.
She sat back down on the bench, staring at the fountain.
And for the first time in a long time, she wasn't sure if she was making a mistake—or the best decision she'd made in years.