Tara and Cain stepped out of the car, the quiet air of City A wrapping around them as they took in the neighborhood. Rows of elegant villas stretched neatly along the street, each one perfectly aligned, exuding a calm, understated luxury.
"Wow, Cain… this place is beautiful. Is this our home?" Tara asked, her voice bright with excitement.
"Of course it is," Cain replied, watching her reaction closely.
"Which one is ours?" she asked eagerly.
"This way." He took her hand and led her forward.
They walked for a few minutes before stopping in front of a villa that stood modest yet striking. Cain opened the gate, and they made their way along the path toward the front door.
"Wow… it's big, but in a simple way," Tara said, her eyes scanning everything. "Look, it even has a small garden!" Her enthusiasm was infectious, and Cain couldn't help but smile.
He guided her inside. The moment Tara stepped in, she gasped.
"What's wrong? You don't like it?" Cain asked, a hint of worry in his voice.
"I don't like it…" she repeated, her expression unreadable for a split second—before she suddenly broke into a wide smile. "I love it! Cain, I love it so much—and I love you for making our home this beautiful!"
She threw her arms around him. Cain chuckled, slightly startled, but returned the embrace.
Pulling away, Tara began exploring. The living room was warm and inviting, spacious enough for multiple plush couches arranged around a sleek, modern coffee table. Everything felt carefully chosen, stylish without being overwhelming.
She was just about to head toward the kitchen when Cain gently pulled her back.
"Cain, where are you taking me? I'm not even done looking around," she complained.
"You have all the time in the world to explore later. Right now, you need to rest. You just got off a flight—and you were discharged only a few hours ago," he said firmly.
"But babe, I'm not even tired—"
Cain stopped.
"What did you just say?" he asked, turning to her.
"I said I'm not tired," Tara replied innocently.
"No… after that."
She blinked, confused. "What's wrong with you?"
Cain studied her for a moment, suspicion flickering in his eyes, but said nothing and continued leading her upstairs.
Behind him, Tara stifled a laugh.
"By the way," she added, "why don't I see any pictures of us in the house?"
Cain paused. "We never really took any. But if you want, we can take some when you're better—and hang them up."
"Mmm… I'd love that," she said happily.
After what felt like an endless climb to Tara, they reached the second floor. Cain opened a door near the stairs.
"This is your room."
"My room?" Tara frowned. "What do you mean my room?"
"You're still recovering. I don't want to disturb you, so for now… we'll sleep in separate rooms."
"Oh," she said, stepping closer and lightly brushing her hand against his waist, looking up at him with a teasing smile. "Seems like you can read my mind."
"Am I? Or is it just obvious?" he replied calmly.
Before she could answer, her stomach growled loudly.
"Babe… I'm hungry," she said, pouting.
Cain raised an eyebrow. "I knew I wasn't imagining things when I heard you say that."
Tara giggled. "What, do you have a problem with me calling you that?"
"Mmm… let me think," he said, glancing at her. "No. But how about we deal with that beast first?" He nodded toward her stomach.
She laughed and hurried out of the room, already energized again. "What are we eating?" she called over her shoulder.
"Anything you want," Cain replied.
She skipped downstairs, then turned back suddenly. "Bring your phone! I want to order food!"
"Coming," he said, following at a steady pace.
"You're taking too long!" Tara complained the moment he reached her. She grabbed his phone and immediately started tapping away.
Cain watched her, shaking his head with quiet amusement.
"Do you want anything?" she asked, glancing up briefly.
"Anything you want," he replied, sitting beside her.
As she continued scrolling, she leaned into him without thinking. Cain wrapped an arm around her from behind, letting her settle comfortably against him.
"What did you order?" he asked.
"I'm not sure," she said absently, completely absorbed in the screen.
He chuckled. "Let me see."
They both looked at the phone together.
"Have you decided?" he asked.
"How about McDonald's?"
"No."
"Chick-fil-A?"
"No."
"Pizza?"
"No."
Tara groaned and dropped the phone onto her lap, turning to face him. "Then what do you want me to eat?"
"You can eat anything," Cain said, "as long as it's healthy."
She stared at him like he had just committed a crime. "Babe, please… I want fast food."
He sighed. "Fine."
Her face lit up instantly. "Thank you!" She hugged him tightly before settling back against him, happily returning to her order.
Once she finished, she leaned closer, her voice softer.
"I don't know if we did this before," she said, "but I really love this… the comfort of having you around me. These moments."
Cain didn't respond.
He simply held her there, knowing better than anyone that everything between them was an act. He could play along. He could enjoy the illusion.
But he couldn't afford to forget that it was one.