1 For a limited-time in-game event, my fiancé and his childhood rival, Isabelle, decided to pretend to be a couple. They agreed to “break up” after a week, but Isabelle kept pushing the boundaries. “Come on, Nathan, don’t tell me you’re getting soft. How about a real bet?” she taunted. “A lifetime pact. The first one to back out is a coward!” Just when everyone, including me, thought Nathan would quit the game for my sake, he gritted his teeth and refused to back down. He even raised the stakes, escalating their fake relationship from a couple to a married couple. For the next five years, Nathan spent every Christmas with Isabelle and her family. This year was no different. I looked at the latest text from my father. [Can you bring Nathan home this year? I’m afraid I might not be around to see next Christmas.] I clutched my phone, looking up just as Nathan walked in, arms full of holiday gifts. He held up a few different shirts against himself. “What kind of shirt do you think Mr. Hayes would like?” When I didn’t answer, he mumbled to himself, “Forget it. Asking you is useless. I’ll just ask Isabelle.” Watching his back as he happily sorted through the items, I opened a chat window I hadn’t touched in a long time. I typed and deleted the words several times before finally hitting send. [Do you still mean what you said? Come home with me for the holidays this year.] … The moment the message sent, a series of question marks popped up in response. [You’ve made up your mind? I’ll be there. Wait for me!] The screen went dark. I managed a weak smile and called my dad. “Dad, I’m bringing my boyfriend home for Christmas this year.” My voice was quiet, but Nathan, trying on clothes, overheard. He snatched the phone from my hand, hung up, and snapped, “We already agreed I’m spending the holidays at Isabelle’s. What are you telling your dad now?” I calmly took my phone back, my face impassive. “Nothing.” He seemed to sense my mood, his complaining tone softening as his gaze settled on me. “I know what you’re thinking, but spending Christmas at Isabelle’s was part of the deal from the beginning.” He puffed out his chest, a look of pride in his eyes I’d never seen before. “If I win, Isabelle has to sign over her entire company to me.” I stared at him for a long moment, then spoke. “Nathan, you don’t need the money, do you?” He stiffened, his brow furrowing. “What’s gotten into you today? You’re usually not this talkative.” Before I could reply, his phone, sitting on the table, rang. I glanced at the screen and saw the caller ID: [My Dearest Wife]. Nathan quickly silenced the call, a flicker of discomfort on his face. “Isabelle was just messing with my phone.” My fingers curled into my palm. A bitter taste filled my throat. The silence in the room was heavy. Nathan ran a hand through his hair in frustration, then pointed to the bags on the floor. “These are for your dad, so you can’t say I don’t care,” he said. “I’m going to marry you eventually. The holidays are just a formality. Don’t make such a big deal out of it.” With that, he disappeared into the bedroom to return the call. I looked at the “gifts.” Stale crackers, raw peanuts still covered in dirt. All cheap, thoughtless items you could buy for a few dollars at a corner store. My dad’s health had been failing for years; he couldn’t eat any of this. A sourness welled up in my eyes. I remembered the first time I brought Nathan home years ago. My father was so happy. The frail old man seemed to come alive that day. He even gave Nathan the family heirloom, a vintage watch passed down through generations. All my father wanted was for us to visit him in his small mountain town every year, to see us get married before he passed. But even that simple wish was too much to ask. I took a deep breath and faced the bedroom door. “Nathan, let’s break up…” My words were cut off by the sound of a key in the lock. The front door swung open, and Isabelle walked in as if she owned the place. She had a key to my home. She saw me and her brow tightened slightly. “Serena? I’m here to pick up Nathan to go gift shopping.” My face hardened. I stared at the key in her hand. “Why do you have a key to my apartment?” Nathan came out of the bedroom at the sound of her voice. “I had one made for her,” he said casually. “Sometimes you’re working late and not home, so Isabelle stays over in the guest room.” The anger inside me burned hotter. “This is my home, Nathan!” I hissed. “Did you even bother to ask me?” He didn’t explain. He just picked up his keys from the sofa, grabbed a box of expensive, rare ginseng from the cabinet, and handed it to Isabelle right in front of me. I shot out a hand to stop him, my teeth clenched. “That’s from my company. It’s for my dad, for his health.” Nathan impatiently shook my hand off. “Your dad’s health is already bad; this won’t save him. It’s better to give it to Isabelle’s father.” He added dismissively, “I’ll get you something better next time.” Isabelle accepted the ginseng with a sweet smile, turning to me. “Don’t be so dramatic, Serena. Once Nathan concedes the game, I’ll be sure to reimburse you for all your expenses over the years.” Nathan chuckled at that, playfully flicking a strand of Isabelle’s hair. “Who’s going to concede? I’m in this for life.” They slammed the door behind them, and the gust of wind that swept through the apartment chilled me to the bone. 2 Nathan and I had been together for nearly a decade. But in everyone else’s eyes, Isabelle was the one who truly deserved him. Five years ago, on Nathan’s birthday, I had a custom-made ring in my pocket, ready to propose. Isabelle was there, of course. The moment they saw each other, the bickering began, starting with truth or dare and escalating to drinking games. Nathan had eyes for no one but her. Then, Isabelle slammed her hand on the table, pulled out her phone, and opened an official event page for an online game. Couples who entered together could win limited-edition character skins. “Nathan, you in? Don’t tell me you’re scared!” The crowd roared, caught up in the excitement. My friend nudged me with her elbow. “Serena, you’re not going to say anything? You’re just going to let this happen?” Someone overheard and laughed. “Come on, Nathan would never agree. He and Serena have been together forever. They’re practically engaged.” Everyone thought so. So did I. But in the next second, Nathan slid his own phone across the table to face Isabelle. “Game on.” The smile on my face froze. I grabbed his arm. “Nathan, what do you think you’re doing?” He finally seemed to notice I was there. He opened his mouth to speak, a flash of regret in his eyes, but Isabelle just laughed and threw her hands up. “Relax, Serena. It’s just a game. The pairing automatically dissolves in a week,” she said smoothly. “You two are getting married, right? Don’t you trust him even a little?” Her words seemed to fuel Nathan’s impatience. He pushed me away. “It’s my birthday. Don’t ruin the mood.” His words plunged me into an icy abyss. The people around us exchanged awkward glances, the atmosphere turning frigid. I fought to keep my voice from trembling. “What game? Tell me. We’re the real couple. I can…” Nathan waved his hand dismissively. “You can’t. You don’t even know how to play. All you ever do is bury yourself in your boring design drafts.” My hand in my pocket clenched tighter, the engagement ring digging a sharp pain into my palm. “You’re really going to do this? You have a girlfriend, but you’re going to be a ‘couple’ with someone else?” At that, his face turned ugly. “What’s that supposed to mean, Serena!” he yelled, and then he smashed the cake I’d carefully prepared right in my face. “You just wanted to ruin my birthday, didn’t you? Fine, then we won’t celebrate!” That night ended in disaster. I drank until morning, but I couldn’t bring myself to break up with him. I couldn’t just throw away years of history. Even my dad told me to let it go, saying all couples have their little fights. But it wasn’t little. From a fake couple, they became a fake married couple. And every year, Nathan used that game as an excuse to spend Christmas with Isabelle. This year marked the fifth year of their game. Five years of them chipping away at every last bit of my love for him. I never gave him the ring. My phone screen lit up. It was another text from my dad. [Sweetheart, you and Nathan have been together for a decade now, haven't you?] [Will Dad get to see you two get married?] Tears blurred my vision, dripping onto the screen. [Dad, I will get married. Just not to him.]
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