Jasper and I were the definition of a forced pair: all scorching chemistry and sheer, mutual hatred. Once the crisis that brought us together was over, I told him I wanted out. He wouldn't say yes, but he wouldn't say no, either. Instead, he went off on some ridiculous tangent, asking if I preferred cats or dogs. "Dogs," I said, frowning. "Why?" He dropped his head and gave a pathetic little yelp. "Woof." I glared. "Don't do that." He cleared his throat, a devilish smirk playing on his lips. "You misunderstand." "I just wanted to make sure you remembered," he drawled, his smile completely unapologetic. "You've already kissed a dog." My jaw dropped. 01 The day Christopher Morgan and I broke up, I cried a ridiculous, snotty, heaving mess of tears. It was devastating. I genuinely loved that man—the one who was always so gentle, so thoughtful, so frustratingly handsome. With a double dose of heartbreak weighing me down, I spent the entire afternoon crying all over Jasper. He tried everything. He argued, he negotiated, he exhausted his entire supply of soothing words. Finally, seeing that I knew every logical reason to stop crying but just couldn't, he told me the ancient joke about the old woman and her two sons. "So, what's your takeaway?" he asked, once he was done. "It means you have to look at the positive side of life, right?" I sniffled. "Christopher and I breaking up isn't just a sad thing, it's also a chance to—" He cut me off with a massive, exaggerated X sign. "Wrong! It means that if an old woman can manage to pop out two sons, the world is absolutely overflowing with men!" I was deep in my misery, but Jasper always knew the exact line to make me snort-laugh through my tears. Jasper and I have been on each other's nerves since kindergarten. We'd been in each other's orbit, fighting and arguing, for over two decades, but I'd always had a serious question mark over his sexuality. I’d at least dated Christopher. Jasper, on the other hand, hadn't even held a girl's hand since preschool. Objectively, he was gorgeous, charming, and a master conversationalist who could turn on the flattery like a faucet. He regularly left girls completely dazed. But no matter what type of girl—or how beautiful—sent him a love letter or a gift, he always turned them down flat. He never gave a reason. Over time, the rumor spread: Jasper Reid preferred men. Girls who knew we were close would sneak up and ask me about it. I'd shake my head in genuine confusion. "I honestly don't know, but he's never actually dated a guy, either." He was still single when we graduated college and started our careers. A sudden, brilliant idea—a desperate, stupid, childish idea—flashed through my mind. I stared at Jasper with wide-eyed intensity. After a long pause, I leaned in. "Jasper, let's pretend to be a couple." He frowned. "Are you finally going to use me as a rebound?" "No!" I threw myself forward, grabbing his sleeve tightly. "Just hear me out..." Jasper was initially confused. But as I kept talking, his expression slowly transformed. His eyes narrowed. His lips curled up. I could almost visualize a big, bushy fox tail unfurling behind him, swishing happily from left to right, right to left. When I finished, he kept his eyes narrowed. "Sounds great," he said. And just like that, I foolishly coerced Jasper into playing my fake boyfriend. 02 After seeing Jasper out, I lay spread-eagled on my bed. The reason I'd given him was that my parents, who were constantly abroad, would definitely start pressuring me to find someone after my breakup with Christopher. Fake-dating Jasper would get them off my back. But I'd lied. The real reason was pure, unadulterated spite. I wanted to make Christopher jealous. I wanted him to see that even after he let me go, I could immediately find someone better. It was a tantrum. I couldn't understand why our relationship felt so emotionally sterile. I wanted to introduce all my friends to Christopher, but he said a relationship was between two people, and we didn't need to "bind our social lives." I wanted him to check in with me throughout the day, but he told me I was being "too sensitive" and that "adults need their own rhythm." And just the other day, I was having a meltdown after a horrible day at work, and all I wanted was for him to tell me I was right. Instead, he coolly analyzed the situation, pointing out who was at fault and telling me the workplace required "rationality." Rationality my ass. I’d go talk to an AI if all I wanted was logic. What did I need him for? In a burst of anger, I broke up with him. He looked genuinely heartbroken, I'll admit—a flicker of that deep, familiar melancholy in his eyes. But in the end, he agreed, saying he respected my choice. I was stunned. Why was it so hard for him to just fight for me? The problem was, I truly loved him. His quiet strength, his formidable intellect, and his underlying warmth were incredibly appealing to me. Completely lost, I cried to Jasper for what felt like hours. Hearing his ridiculously crude joke about having plenty of men in the world, a spark had ignited. If Christopher truly loved me, could using Jasper be the push I needed? But what if I was making a terrible mistake? What if I was poisoning an already struggling relationship? Was it fair to Jasper? He didn't like me anyway, so a little cooperation couldn't hurt, could it? Besides, the words were already out. If I backed out now, I'd look insane. I was lying on my bed, clutching my head in misery, when Jasper texted. Jasper: I've been gone three hours. Not one text? Is this how you 'date'? Me: ? We agreed it was fake. Jasper: ... You're supposed to fawn over me. Me: Fuck off. I threw my phone down in a fresh wave of frustration. 03 To my surprise, I ran into Christopher much sooner than expected. Jasper, who had taken over his family's business early, invited me to a gala a few days into our "relationship." He sent a driver to pick me up. I was dressed to the nines... and immediately started watching the drama with Jasper. "Seriously? That Mr. Thompson looks so respectable, and you're telling me he has four illegitimate kids?" "No way, Ms. Chen is that beautiful, and she's dating her driver?" I was sweeping the room, asking Jasper about every recognizable face, when I spotted a tall, distinguished figure in the distance. I gasped and jabbed Jasper in the ribs. "Oh my god, is that Christopher Morgan?" Jasper followed my gaze. Christopher was wearing a perfectly tailored gray suit. His hair was meticulously styled. He was holding a glass of scotch and exchanging pleasantries with an older CEO. I sighed internally: He's still the same. Elegant, formidable. A sleek, black Persian. "This is Noah Caldwell's event," Jasper said smoothly. "He's looking to reshuffle his legal team. Christopher's a high-profile lawyer, so it's not surprising he's here." I listened, my mind racing as I hatched my secret plan. Jasper noticed my excitement. "Why are you so worked up? We live in the same city, our circles intersect. Why the surprise? You still have feelings for him?" I kept silent. Jasper adjusted his tie in the reflection of a nearby floor-to-ceiling window. Then, he casually took my hand. "Come on. Time to show off." I tried to pull away. But with so many eyes in the room, I couldn't make a scene. "No, no, I don't want to," I hissed. Christopher noticed us. He knew Jasper and I were childhood friends. He excused himself from the CEO and walked over. Jasper gave him a mocking, overly-sincere smile. "Long time no see, Mr. Morgan. You're looking as pristine as ever." Christopher gave him a polite nod. Then he turned to me. "Kenna, it's good to see you." I managed a strained smile, looking down. "Y-you too." Christopher's eyes landed on my hand in Jasper's. I snatched my hand back as if burned. Jasper smoothly stepped between us, separating me from Christopher. "Mr. Morgan, I heard Mr. Zhang is looking to partner with you. We're going over there to discuss it—I can make the introduction for you. You owe me one, okay?" Jasper pointed toward the billiards table. Christopher smiled. "That would be appreciated." I don't play, so I stood by and watched them shoot pool, interjecting occasionally. But Jasper was completely insufferable. Every time I tried to talk to Christopher, he jumped in to interrupt. When it was Christopher's turn, I pulled Jasper aside. "What is your problem?" Jasper's brow was furrowed enough to kill a mosquito. "I want to punch him. That sanctimonious fake!" "He's a great guy! Don't ruin this. If you mess with him, you're dead to me." He argued, self-righteous: "You two broke up! Why can't I rough him up a little? He made you cry so much!" I yanked his arm. "No matter what, you will not do anything ridiculous. Do you hear me?" Christopher was looking over, waiting for Jasper. Under my fierce glare, Jasper sighed, grumbled "Fine," and reluctantly agreed. Then, he suddenly swooped in and kissed me, quick and possessive, right on the corner of my mouth. Before I could react, he turned and strolled off to Christopher, looking utterly triumphant. I was fuming. For the rest of the evening, I desperately tried to find a moment to explain things to Christopher, but Jasper kept me on a short leash. Finally, I clutched my stomach. "Ow, my stomach hurts." Jasper looked concerned. "What's wrong? Do you need to leave?" "No, I think I just got my cramps. I'm going to the ladies' room." Jasper nodded knowingly and released my arm. We’d been through school together. When I was younger, I was embarrassed about my period and would just sit there, pale and silent. Jasper was always the one who noticed, raised his hand, and claimed he had a stomachache so he could run out and buy me supplies. As I brushed past Christopher, I secretly poked his side and walked straight toward the restroom. He was waiting by the door a few minutes later. 04 He offered a polite smile. "Kenna, you're still as mischievous as ever." "Christopher, Jasper and I aren't actually—" I took a step forward, intending to grab his sleeve, but then I remembered my "role" and let my hand drop. Christopher's voice was gentle. "Kenna, this isn't good for you, for me, or for Jasper." "I know you're feeling resentful, but I've come to realize that our personalities simply aren't compatible." "You want me to regret things, to change everything and come back to you. I wish I could be the man you need, but I can't. You are a wonderful woman—beautiful, vibrant, confident, and fun. Being with you is easy." "But I cannot be the lover you envision. If you truly care for Jasper, I wish you both the best, and I’m genuinely happy for you. If you don't care for him, then you need to figure out what you truly want and find the right person." My eyes dropped. I couldn't look at him. My entire petty scheme felt transparent and embarrassing in the face of this mature, rational man. Before I could speak, Jasper's loud shout echoed down the hallway. "Kendall! What are you two doing here?! Stomach all better, is it?" I winced, a feeling of deep mortification washing over me. Jasper swaggered over, muttering a stream of passive-aggressive remarks. "Jasper has no ill will toward you," I quickly explained. Christopher's smile only broadened. "I know." Jasper was getting closer. "What are you two chatting about? Speak up, I can't hear you!" I leaned toward Christopher. "My birthday is in a few days. Will... will you still wish me happy birthday?" "Of course," he said warmly. I smiled, nodded, and quickly ran toward Jasper. "Why are you yelling? There are so many people here! It's humiliating to be with you!" I grabbed him and pulled him back toward the billiards table, terrified he'd start a brawl with Christopher. "Why am I yelling? I want to see what that hypocrite is going to do to you next!" He was scowling fiercely. Then he reached into his pocket and pulled out a fresh, sealed sanitary pad. "Are you on? Was there one in the bathroom?" "Where did you get that?" A flush of awkward redness spread across his face. "Never mind that. If you're on, go use it." I giggled. "Nope. False alarm. I just ate too much cold food." On the ride home, Christopher's words kept echoing in my mind. I glanced over at Jasper. He'd had a few drinks. He was leaning against the car door, the window cracked open. The wind rustled his hair, sweeping a few strands across his perfect nose. He caught my eye, his own eyes slightly red at the corners from the alcohol. He looked vulnerable, but he was still trying to look menacing. He bared his teeth. "What? Thinking of yelling at me again? Let me guess, you're mad I kissed you? I just wanted to show that fake that plenty of people want you!" The things I wanted to say got stuck in my throat. I sank into my seat and picked at my fingernails. He leaned closer, playful. "Seriously, are you mad?" I shook my head. "I just... I don't know what I want anymore." "I do," he said decisively. "What you need right now is a stable relationship and a successful career." "Not that phony, fake gentleman Christopher Morgan!" 05 Nothing happened after that night. I kept meaning to tell Jasper we should stop the charade. But then I saw how excited he was about it, and I couldn't bring myself to say the words. On my birthday, I was slumped over my desk at work, feeling miserable. My mom had texted: Kenna, your dad and I are swamped with work, so we can't be there. We ordered a massive cake for you, sweetie. Don't forget to pick it up. She followed up with a massive transfer. I flipped my phone face down in frustration. My parents had barely been there for my birthday growing up. This year, though, I really wished they would come home. Christopher and I were done, which made me sad. Playing house with Jasper felt wrong and confusing. A knot of tangled, messy emotions tightened in my chest, making it hard to breathe. And lately, work had been one crisis after another. All I wanted was to have a carefree birthday with my parents. Why was it so difficult? The sunset cast long shadows across the huge office. My colleagues were slowly trickling out. Someone asked why I wasn't leaving. I told her I was tired and needed a minute to rest. "Kenna, don't let it get to you," she said softly. "Briana messed up the numbers and passed the buck to you. You'll get yelled at, but who hasn't dealt with that? Just learn your lesson for next time." I turned my head to watch her go, the sunlight blinding me. I was new to the corporate world. I made mistakes and was easily manipulated. The world felt predatory. I just wanted to go home and have my mom hug me. A loud ring broke the silence. I grabbed my phone. It was Jasper. His bright, clear voice came through the speaker. "Happy birthday, Kenna! You haven't left work yet, have you?" "How did you know?" I muttered listlessly. "I drove past your place and the lights were off. Get down here! I'm outside your building. I'm taking you to a great dinner." I didn't answer right away. My parents' apartment was inside a gated community. He clearly went out of his way to check on me. "Do you know how hard it is to get a table at that fine dinning place? I pushed off a massive meeting just to spend your birthday with you." He rattled on, urging me to hurry. I stood up, shoving my things into my tote bag. Stepping out of the elevator, I saw Jasper waiting in the lobby. Long legs propped against his car, one hand in his pocket. He had a lollipop sticking out of his mouth, his brow slightly furrowed in concentration. Always trying to look cool. I walked toward him. The moment he saw me, his face lit up. But when he saw my downcast expression, he bent down, turned his head, and looked straight into my eyes. "What's wrong, Birthday Girl?" "You're unhappy?" "Yes! Unhappy!" I’d been waiting all day. Waiting for my parents to surprise me by flying back from France. Waiting for Christopher to keep his promise. Nothing. And then I got humiliated by a colleague. In the car, Jasper drove and spoke casually. "Christopher didn't send you a birthday message, did he? That's what's got you down." "How did you know?" "Ugh, classic fake-gentleman move. Tell you what, I'll go buy him some rat poison to verify his species." I turned to him, confused. "If he takes the rat poison and dies," Jasper explained with mock gravity, "he's a rat. If he takes it and doesn't die... he's a demon rat who needs a stake through the heart."
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