Chapter 1

My online boyfriend, Aidan Hudson, had always been a little strange.

He had this habit of saying things in the most dramatic way.

When he went to the bathroom, he'd say he was "handling some business at the company".

When he headed home to take care of the farm, he'd say he had "some big family business to take over".

After a while, I started copying him.

When I left for work, I'd say, "Time to carry on my family's grand mission."

I always thought we were joking around the same way.

Then one night at a party, a bunch of big shots, including my boss, walked up to him and respectfully called him "Mr. Hudson".

That was when it hit me.

He wasn't being dramatic. He actually meant every word.

*****

The glow from my phone screen felt a little too harsh in the dark.

I stared at the new message, kind of frozen for a second.

My Weird Bae: [Just survived a war at the board meeting. Totally drained, heading to the office to handle something and chill for a bit.]

Office? Chill? My mind immediately went somewhere it probably shouldn't, and I shut that thought down real fast.

Whatever. I'd known him for three months. I should have gotten used to his weird way of talking by now.

The only reason he caught my attention in the first place was that he was outrageously dramatic.

There was this one game where he carried the whole team, and everyone was hyping him up. Then he spoke on the mic, and honestly, his voice sounded really good. It was low, kind of laid-back.

He said, "Nothing special. I used to practice under strict supervision back home. No room to mess around."

I cracked up right there. This dude was so extra, spinning some dramatic backstory in the middle of a match.

Honestly, he was insanely good at the game, and I liked his voice, so I didn't bust him. I said, "Nice. My family makes killer homemade pies. I'll cook for you sometime. It will impress you."

He replied with surprising seriousness. "Then you'd better have the right sauce to go with it."

That was how it started, bits and pieces of casual chatter, until we weren't only teammates anymore. Maybe online friends? Did that count as dating?

We never spelled it out, but the clingy, constant contact made it obvious enough.

All I really knew was that his name was Aidan Hudson, he was twenty-six, male, and had a great voice.

He dominated games, specialized in absurd nonsense, and was probably some burned-out office guy with a very unusual way of thinking.

He once claimed he was "inspecting the front lines", then sent a picture of some random patch of dirt in the suburbs with a few sad-looking plants.

He bragged about "managing overseas assets", and it turned out he was ranting because his roommate grabbed the Steam game he wanted first.

He once said he was "on an international video call", but the photo showed him crammed in with four other guys at a gaming room, his good-looking face glowing in the screen light while people shouted "Go get them" in the background.

Therefore, whenever he said he was "heading to the office to take care of something", what I heard was that he was definitely on the toilet.

I smirked and texted back: [Mr. Hudson, you're such a workaholic. Want me to bring you some toilet paper... I mean, classified files?]

He texted back right away, like he had nothing better to do. [Nah. The clearance level is too high. You don't have access.]

I collapsed onto my bed, laughing so hard that I rolled across the mattress, but when the laughter faded, a hollow feeling settled in.

What kind of dating was this supposed to be? We hadn't even met face to face. It was all texting and guesswork.

My best friend Rosalia had already chewed me out before. "Mabel, are you serious? Online dating? You don't even know who that guy really is. This 'Mr. Hudson' could be some random dude messing with you."

What was I really in this for? Probably the easy kind of fun that didn't take any effort to think about.

I was nothing special in real life. I just graduated, working as an admin at some small company, filing receipts, fixing expense reports, listening to my boss talk big and coworkers argue, basically moving through the day like a robot.

Only when I was with Aidan could I ramble about whatever, keep up with all his weird jokes, forget about work and office politics, and laugh without thinking.

And honestly, behind all his random nonsense, it sometimes felt like there was something deeper there, like he was actually tired.

It was not the kind of tired we got from staying up gaming, but something deeper. The kind of tired only grown-ups really got, even though he always hid it behind jokes.

I rolled onto my side and texted back: [Got it, Mr. Hudson. I've got my own family duty to handle.]

Sure enough, he asked: [What duty?]

I grinned and typed: [Going downstairs to Sable Kitchen to take over my family's famous sauce recipe. They just got fresh ingredients in, and duty calls.]

Sable Kitchen was the restaurant downstairs. I went there all the time, knew the owner pretty well, and sometimes helped out for a few extra bucks. I joked that it was my family business.

Aidan sent a head-pat emoji. [Approved. Stay safe, and don't burn your mouth.]

See? He always caught on.

I texted back: [Okay.]

I closed the chat, and a reminder popped up on my phone. [Tomorrow, 7 p.m., company annual party, Crown Hotel. Formal attire required.]

I sighed. Reality hit again.

Those parties meant stuffing myself into a dress that felt way too tight, wearing heels that killed my feet, fake-smiling at coworkers I didn't know and bosses who didn't remember my name, and maybe getting pulled into some super awkward games.

Meanwhile, my online boyfriend was at his "office", handling whatever "top-secret business" he claimed to have.

Life was honestly kind of ridiculous.

*****

I arrived at the Crown Hotel the next evening on time. The lights were dazzling, and the air carried a mix of champagne, perfume, and the rich aroma of expensive food.

I shrank into the corner, doing my best to blend into the background. The black dress I rented was so tight that it was hard to breathe.

My coworkers gathered in little clusters, bragging to each other.

Someone from marketing was once again showing off about landing a major account, while a woman from finance casually flaunted her new necklace like it was no big deal.

I clutched my orange juice, mentally counting down to when I could slip out unnoticed.

My boss, Michael Berger, was always talking about vision and big moves. Right now, he was at the door, practically bowing to a group of people who looked important, grinning.

Suddenly, things got quiet by the entrance.

It wasn't like the room went silent, but that kind of hush where everyone automatically quieted down and looked in the same direction.

Even the people huddled around Michael all turned at once, eyes locked on the doorway.