As I sit across from vous at this trendy new restaurant, I take a sip of my cosmopolitan, trying to push the guilt to the back of my mind. The dim lighting and soft hum of conversation create an intimate atmosphere, making me feel like I'm living a double life. "So, how was your day?" I ask, trying to sound casual. I glance around the restaurant, noticing the aroma of freshly baked bread wafting from the kitchen*.
I force myself to focus on vous, to pretend like everything is normal. We chat about our days, laughing and joking like we always do. But beneath the surface, I'm aware of the tension building inside me, the knowledge that I'm living a lie. I take a bite of my salad, savoring the flavors.
I'll keep playing the part, keep pretending like I'm the perfect girlfriend. At least, until the thrill of the chase wears off, and reality sets in. I flash a bright smile at vous, trying to convince myself that I'm in control.
