Shortly after my online relationship transitioned into the real world, I stumbled upon a thread on Reddit. “If you could go back in time with all your current memories, what is the one thing you would change?” People in the comments talked about wanting to change their marriages or their careers. Some wished they could have saved a loved one they had lost. But one comment stood out, completely out of place. “I would have personally asked for his number myself.” “That way, my friend wouldn’t have handed me the wrong guy’s contact info, and I wouldn’t have spent six months falling in love with a stranger over text.” “Now we’ve met in real life, and I’m stuck trying to make things work out of sheer obligation.” I was about to leave a sarcastic reply and swipe away, but then I caught sight of the user’s profile picture and handle. Even the short, poetic quote in her bio was identical to my new girlfriend’s. Natalie. Suddenly, the pieces clicked. I finally understood why she had always avoided FaceTime, and why, when we finally met today, her smile felt so forced, like a mask slipping at the edges. The love she had been giving me… It was never meant for me in the first place. … I looked up. Across the crowded bistro, I saw Natalie sitting at our table, talking furiously on her phone. She was likely ripping her friend a new one for giving her the wrong contact info six months ago. “You’re back?” Natalie hung up just as I approached, sliding the menu toward me with a gentle smile. “I ordered a few of your favorites. Take a look and see if you want anything else.” She had always been incredibly attentive. Even before we met in person, she never missed a holiday or a birthday, sending thoughtful gifts right to my door. She knew how easily I lost track of time when work got chaotic, so she would order dinner for me every week, ensuring it arrived at my office right on time. My quirks, my food allergies, the precise schedule of my chronic stomach flare-ups—she memorized them better than I did. My friends and coworkers used to tease me, saying I had won the lottery. Who finds a gorgeous, deeply devoted partner online? But none of it belonged to me. I was living in a stolen house. She waved a hand in front of my face, letting out a soft, teasing laugh. “What? Staring at your girlfriend already?” she joked. “You have all the time in the world for that. Let’s eat first. If you skip meals, you’ll be complaining about your stomach hurting later.” My hands tightened into fists under the table, the fabric of my jeans rough against my palms. I forced myself to look at her. “You know, you don’t have to force yourself to settle,” I said, my voice quiet but steady. “If you realized you made a mistake, you could have just told me.” The playful curve of her lips vanished. “How did you find out?” My gaze drifted, unable to hold her eyes. “The day your friend asked for my contact info, my coworker was standing right next to me. I think she got us confused.” I pulled out my phone, pulled up his contact card, and slid it across the table. “This is Connor. He’s the guy you were actually looking for.” I swallowed the lump in my throat. “If you want, I can introduce you. But as for us… let’s just call it off.” Natalie’s fingers tightened around the edge of the menu, her expression a mix of guilt and confusion. “Jack, you really don’t have to do this. I wasn’t planning on—” “But I do,” I interrupted gently. I didn’t want to be anyone’s “good enough” option. I didn’t want to be the consolation prize, and I certainly didn’t want the truth to blow up later, making me look like the guy who stole someone else’s life. “I won’t say anything to anyone,” I added. “You don’t have to worry about him finding out we were together.” Natalie remained silent for a long moment, staring at the screen. Finally, she looked up, her expression incredibly solemn. “To make it up to you, I’ll grant you one favor. Absolutely anything, whenever you need it.” Her eyes were so earnest, almost desperate, as if she feared that if I didn’t agree, I would use this leverage to cling to her. I didn’t want anything from her. But to put her mind at ease, I simply nodded. Only then did she seem to breathe a sigh of relief. “Let’s eat first, then. My treat.” I grabbed my bag and stood up. “No, it’s fine. I need to get back to the office.” When I walked back into my cubicle, Brad, my usual lunch partner, stared at me in absolute shock. “I thought you took the whole day off to meet your mystery girl? Why are you back in the trenches?” I had spent hours getting dressed up for this lunch. I had used a full day of my hard-earned PTO just to see her. But now that it had turned out to be a massive misunderstanding, there was no point in wasting the rest of my afternoon. “Just had some things to take care of,” I muttered. Seeing my exhaustion, Brad patted my shoulder sympathetically. “Ah. The classic online-dating bait-and-switch. Reality rarely matches the profile picture, huh?” I let out a dry, humorless laugh. If only it were that simple. A few days later, Brad leaned over the partition, lowering his voice to a whisper. “Hey, have you heard? Connor’s dating some filthy rich heiress. She’s been showing up in a different luxury car every evening to pick him up from work.” My fingers froze over the keyboard. After that lunch with Natalie, I had gone to see Connor. He had been skeptical at first, but he accepted her request on Instagram, saying he didn’t believe in online dating but was open to meeting up. Clearly, their meeting had gone exceptionally well. “Earth to Jack,” Brad said, nudging my arm. I looked up to find Connor standing right beside my desk, a sleek gift bag in his hand. “Hey, Jack. I really appreciate you setting me up with Natalie. We’re doing great, and we wanted to give you this as a thank you.” He also handed Brad a thermal bag. “My girlfriend ordered too much food for lunch. Here, you can have the extra.” Brad’s eyes lit up as he grabbed the bag. “Oh, man, Connor! You are a lifesaver!” But as Brad peeked inside, he paused, looking confused. “Wait, isn’t this from that French place downtown? I thought they didn’t do delivery. Did they finally get on DoorDash?” Connor’s smile faltered slightly. “Oh, really?” Connor asked, his tone shifting, becoming suddenly sharp and inquisitive. “Actually, Jack, I’ve been meaning to ask… how do you even know Natalie?” The scrutiny in his eyes made me feel incredibly uncomfortable. “I don’t really,” I lied smoothly. “I just know her friend, Roxy. When Roxy found out Connor and I worked at the same place, she asked for your contact info. You’re a good-looking guy, Connor. It’s not hard to see why she wanted to get in touch.” It was technically the truth, just heavily sugarcoated. “Oh, come on,” Connor said, blushing slightly, his suspicion melting away. Once Connor walked off, Brad practically exploded with excitement. “Man, your luck is unreal! First you find yourself a sweet girl online, and then you somehow play matchmaker for Connor and a literal heiress? When are you going to set me up?” I forced a smile. “Connor’s a catch on his own. If I actually had that kind of matchmaking magic, my own date wouldn’t have gone down in flames.” “Anyway,” I added, trying to redirect his energy, “you might want to focus on how we’re going to handle that nightmare client tomorrow morning.” Brad groaned, his excitement instantly evaporating. That evening, the clear skies suddenly ruptured into a massive downpour. As I stood under the awning of our office building, waiting for the rain to let up, Connor walked out and patted my shoulder. “Hey, it’s pouring. Don’t bother waiting for the bus. We can give you a ride.” I was about to decline when Natalie’s car pulled up. She rolled down the window and spoke with quiet authority. “Get in. This rain isn’t stopping anytime soon.” With both of them insisting, turning them down would have made me look suspicious. But as I went to open the back door, Natalie reached over and popped open the front passenger door. “Don’t you get carsick? Sit up front.” My hand froze on the rear door handle. I could feel Connor’s intense, burning gaze from behind me, practically drilling holes into my skull. I didn’t actually get carsick. A few months ago, when our office was going through a chaotic merger, I had worked several sleepless nights in a row before heading out on a business trip. Having not eaten breakfast, I spent the entire drive to the airport throwing up my guts, unable to reply to her texts. When she asked about it later, I briefly mentioned that the ride had made me feel sick. I never expected her to remember it. Much less misinterpret it as chronic carsickness. I forced a smile. “You must have me confused with someone else. I don’t get carsick.” Natalie’s face remained entirely expressionless. “No, you misunderstand. I was talking to Connor.” The sting of humiliation was immediately swallowed by a cold wave of fear. For the entire drive, Connor watched me through the rearview mirror. He repeatedly tried to steer the conversation toward the “devoted online girlfriend” I used to talk about. “Yeah, online dating is just a phase,” I muttered, sweating under my collar as I tried to deflect his questions. “Just a way to pass the time.” I couldn’t wait to get out of that car. By the time the car finally pulled up to my apartment complex, I didn’t even wait for them to say goodbye. “I need to get upstairs—I left my dog locked up all day and need to take him out. Thanks for the ride!” I practically bolted before they could even reply. Later that night, after a hot shower, my phone buzzed on the nightstand. It was a text from Natalie. “Keep your distance from Connor at work. He’s smart. He’ll put the pieces together.” A bitter ache bloomed in my chest. Just a week ago, she was the girl sending me sweet morning texts and caring for me. Now, she was warning me to act like a stranger to protect her new relationship. “I know,” I replied. “Actually, to keep things simple, we should probably delete each other’s contacts.” Without waiting for her reply, I blocked her number. It was a petty, impulsive move, but it felt like the only way to claw back some dignity. The next morning, I walked into the office with swollen, heavy eyes. Brad slid an ice pack across my desk. “Don’t tell me you were crying over your ex last night?” “Of course not,” I lied, pressing the cold pack to my eyes. “Just drank too much water before bed.” I didn’t notice Connor walking past my cubicle. On our way to meet the client, Brad was visibly shaking. “You look like you’re going to a firing squad,” I teased. “You don’t understand,” Brad whispered. “This client is brutal. Last month, she made Lucy from accounting cry in the middle of a meeting.” His warning had me on edge, but when we stepped into the conference room, my jaw dropped. Roxy was sitting at the head of the table. She gave me a bright, mischievous grin and held out her hand. “Jack. Fancy meeting you here.” A few months ago, Roxy had tagged along with her mother to negotiate a contract with our firm. Connor and I, as the new interns, were brought along to observe. That was the day Roxy had asked for my contact information—and accidentally set off this entire chain of events. Brad’s eyes darted between us, and he nudged me with his elbow. “You two know each other? Oh, we’ve got this in the bag.” I kept my voice low. “We’re not close. We met briefly during a project review a while back.” Roxy, sensing my awkwardness, didn’t push it further during the meeting. Once we wrapped up, Brad slipped out to use the restroom, leaving the two of us alone. Roxy immediately stepped closer, an apologetic look on her face. “Look, I’m really sorry about the mix-up,” she said. “Natalie just told me to get the number of ‘the cute intern,’ so I naturally assumed she meant you. How was I supposed to know she wanted Connor?” It was hard to stay mad at her when she put it like that. “It’s fine,” I said quietly. “I should have insisted on a video call sooner. It’s on me, too.” Roxy crossed her arms, looking indignant. “Honestly, Natalie handled this so poorly. As her best friend, I feel like I owe you some kind of compensation.” “No one needs to compensate him.” I turned around. Natalie was standing a few feet away, her face dark with anger. “Mind your own business, Roxy,” Natalie snapped. I felt a sudden chill run down my spine. “Thanks for the offer, Roxy, but I’m really okay,” I said quickly. Just then, Connor stepped out of a private dining room nearby. He glanced at Roxy, then turned to me with a smug smile. “Oh, is this your online girlfriend? She’s beautiful, Jack.” “She’s a client,” I corrected immediately. Roxy smiled, her teeth flashing. “For now.” Natalie shot her an icy glare. “If she’s a client, she’s a client. Why say ‘for now’?” Connor looked slightly embarrassed, his grip tightening on Natalie’s arm. “Right. Well, we should get going. Let’s not disturb them.” Natalie let out a cold hum and let Connor lead her away. Watching them walk off, I couldn’t help but ask Roxy, “Aren’t you and Natalie supposed to be best friends? You two seem… tense.” Roxy smirked. “Let’s just say we have history.” Fortunately, Brad returned from the restroom, saving me from further awkwardness. When our cab pulled up back at the office, a sleek black sedan parked in the corner honked its horn. It was Natalie’s car. The one she had driven on the day we met. I ignored it and kept walking toward the entrance, but the horn honked louder, sharper. “Go ahead up, Brad. I need to take care of something,” I said. I waited until Brad was out of sight before walking over to the car. The window rolled down, revealing Natalie’s freezing expression. “Stay away from Roxy,” she said. “She’s not the kind of girl you want to get mixed up with.” A surge of anger, boiling over from days of suppressed humiliation, finally broke through. “Who are you to tell me what to do?” I snapped. “We’re done, Natalie. Stop checking in on me. I don’t want Connor seeing us and getting the wrong idea.” I turned to leave, but she threw the door open and grabbed my wrist. “I’m not joking, Jack,” she said, her voice tight. “And unblock my number.” I took a deep breath, forcing my voice to remain steady. “You said it yourself—Connor is smart. My number in your phone is a ticking bomb. It’s better this way.” She stared at me, then nodded slowly. “Fine. If you won’t unblock me, I’ll just wait for you outside your office every day. It’s easier that way anyway.” “Are you insane?” I ripped my hand away. “You agreed to put this behind us. You went out and got with Connor. What is the point of this?” She paused, her grip loosening. “Roxy is a serial heartbreaker. I just don’t want to see you get hurt. That’s all. Besides, I promised I’d do you a favor. I don’t want that favor to be cleaning up your mess after she ruins your life.” “My life is none of your concern,” I said coldly. “The best thing you can do for me is to leave me alone.” The drama had drained me completely. I ended up taking the rest of Friday afternoon off. But when I returned to work on Monday, the atmosphere in the office was suffocating. People were whispering, throwing disdainful looks in my direction. Even Brad, who usually couldn’t wait to dump the weekend gossip on me, was staring silently at his screen. I rolled my chair over to him. “What’s going on? Did the boss rip everyone a new one over the weekend?” He looked at me with a complicated expression. “Jack, I honestly admire your nerve. I had no idea you were capable of this. And you’re still acting like nothing happened.” I blinked, confused. Before I could ask what he meant, Connor walked up to my desk and slapped me hard across the face.
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