Felicity's POV.
Yesterday I was a mess. But today? I woke up feeling better—until my phone buzzed like an angry hornet against the nightstand. I groaned, fumbling blindly until my palm smacked the screen and accidentally answered.
MOM.
"Hello...?" I mumbled, voice still tangled in sleep.
I sat up, spine snapping straight as dread coiled in my chest like a tightening rope.
"Felicity," Mom said, soft and shaken. Her voice was fragile—so unlike her, it scared me.
"It's your father. He's in the hospital. In Scotland. And... it's serious. They say he might not make it through the week."
My heart didn't break. It froze. Paused. Hung mid-beat. My body sat upright, but my soul fell like an anchor.
"What happened?"
"It's... complicated. His condition's worse than we thought. He asked to see you."
"I thought he never wanted to see either of us again," I said, harsher than I meant to.
Mom hesitated. "He asked for you, Ninu. He's still your father. It's been eight years. Maybe... it's time to forgive."
I stared at the ceiling.
Wyatt Paddington.
The man who vanished from my life like a magician pulling a final disappearing act. He walked out, left a father-shaped hole in me, and now he wanted to see me?
"You're joking, right? Now he remembers he has a daughter?"
Silence. Then Mom whispered, "You don't have to forgive him. But you deserve answers. And there are things he needs to tell you."
Click.
I stared at the phone. Another buzz: a text.
> Flight confirmed. I'll be in England tomorrow. Just think about it, okay? Your choice, sweetheart. He may not get another tomorrow.
Love, Mom.
Maybe I did want answers. Closure. Or at least something to fill the silence he left behind.
But I wasn't walking into that hospital room empty-handed. I needed armor. A story. A perfectly curated illusion.
And I knew exactly where to find it.
Despite everything between us... I called Chris.
He picked up on the first ring.
"Felicity? Everything okay?"
"Not even close," I exhaled. "I need you to pretend to be my boyfriend. Full performance. Hand-holding. Forehead kisses. The works."
A pause. Then:
"I'm on my way. Ten minutes."
He arrived in eight, looking like a storm in a suit—hair tousled, shirt half-buttoned, eyes on fire. Disheveled. Devastating.
"What's going on?" he asked, voice tight.
"My dad's dying," I said bluntly. "I want him to think I'm happy. That I turned out fine without him. You're my fake boyfriend now. And we're going to sell it."
Over lukewarm tea and toast I'd burned in my emotional haze, I told him everything—about Wyatt, the trip, the plan.
Chris didn't blink. He just nodded. Reached for my hand. And said,
"I'm in. I'd pretend to be your anything.
But, Felicity? I've never pretended when it comes to loving you."
Oh.And just like that—I forgot how to breathe again.
The Next Morning.
The clouds looked like they were mourning too.
Chris and I picked up Mom from the airport. She wore red lipstick and sunglasses, hiding exhaustion behind elegance.
"It's good to see you, Mom," I said, hugging her.
"You too, Ninu. And Chris?" She blinked at him. "What are you doing here?"
Chris wrapped an arm around me smoothly. "Supporting Felicity."
Mom narrowed her eyes. "What is going on, Ninu?"
"We're pretending," I said. "He's my fake boyfriend."
"Excuse me?"
"Long story. I'll explain on the plane."
Scotland, Later That Day.
The hospital smelled like antiseptic and tension.
Room 314 was colder than the air outside.
There he was.
Wyatt Paddington.
Once the roaring lion of noble Scotland. Now frail, pale, a body built from tubes and regrets.
He looked up. "You came."
"I almost didn't," I said softly.
Chris squeezed my hand. And then? Life said plot twist. They arrived.Mia. Her parents. The Harrisons. And my jaw was already preparing to hit the floor.
**********
Christopher's POV.
A few days ago, I had peace. Then Felicity called. Then I was flying to Scotland with her and her mother, pretending to be her boyfriend.
Wyatt Paddington was pale and dying—but still somehow regal, even under a dozen machines. Felicity froze in the doorway. I held her hand. Then the hospital suite turned into a royal summit.My father arrived. The Harrisons. Mia. Charlotte Harrison—Mia's mom.
And suddenly it was less "dying father reunion" and more "Shakespearean showdown."
"Father?" I said. "What are you doing here?"
"I'm here for the Harrisons," Grayson replied. "You? What are you doing here"
"I'm here for Felicity. My girlfriend."
He blinked. "Tell me you're joking."
"I'm not."
"We'll discuss this later. For now, the best doctor in Scotland is with Wyatt. Focus."
Felicity, ever the tactful one, greeted him: "Good afternoon, Your Majesty."
Then she turned to Mia.
"What's she doing here?"
Mia smirked. "Family matters."
"Family? Wait—what?"
The truth exploded like fireworks behind a locked door. And I caught every word. Charlotte turned to Joy, voice low. Then the nuclear bomb dropped.
"Wyatt Paddington is my brother," Charlotte said. "Which makes me Mia's mother—and Wyatt, Mia's uncle."
I choked.
"Wait—so… Felicity's dad is Mia's uncle?"
"Yes," Joy said.
"Which makes Felicity and Mia…" I blinked. "Cousins?"
Mia looked like someone handed her a frog. "I'm related to her?"
Felicity raised a brow. "You're beneath a lot of things, Mia. Dignity being one."
Mia grinned. "Maybe you should treat me like family."
Felicity: "If we're family, I officially request a divorce."
Even Wyatt chuckled at that—weakly, but enough to silence the room.
His eyes found Felicity. "Still sharp," he rasped.
She stepped closer. "It's me, Dad. Why now? Why talk to me?"
He blinked, his voice paper-thin. "Because I thought I had more time. I owe you the truth."
Then his eyes flicked to me. "And you… You're with him?"
Felicity held my hand tighter. "Yes."
He smiled faintly, soft, but real and nodded.
"Good. He looks like he'd fight a dragon for you.You turned out alright, Felicity."
And just like that, the chaos stopped.
Even Mia shut up.But Felicity wasn't okay. I knew it in the way she stood—too still, too quiet.
And that's the thing about pretending to be someone's boyfriend. Sometimes you forget you're pretending.
And sometimes, you realize... you never were.
"All of you," Felicity said, voice sharp. "Step outside. I need to talk to my dad."