HIS BEST FRIEND IS MY BABY DADDY

Lisa’s POV The soft music playing was a cruel contrast to the noise raging in my damn mind. I held the fork too tightly, slicing the steak with more force than necessary, the cutlery clinking against the plate. Still, he didn’t look up. I sighed in frustration. His eyes were still buried in his phone, smiling and scrolling like I wasn’t sitting right in front of him. I grunted loudly. Instead of reacting, he chuckled. “Adrian, for God’s sake,” I complained. He finally looked up at me. “What is it?” he asked, like it was the most reasonable question in the world. “This is our night—” I started, but he cut me off. “You planned everything, and I’m here. What the f**k do you want again? My blood?” “You,” I said. “Not just your presence, your attention.” It sounded desperate. But I meant it. “Stop clowning.” He glanced around the restaurant. “Look around you. There are no paparazzi or cameras.” “You think I’m doing this for the media? Seriously?” “I don’t have time for this. Once you’re done eating, let’s go,” he hissed, already turning back to his phone. I could’ve sworn Adrian was chatting with a woman, or zooming in on nude photos sent by women who randomly threw themselves at him. You know the ridiculous part? I had gotten used to it. And, I kept trying. Wanting to tie up every loose end before we said our vows. This dinner was one of them. Funny. Another futile effort. “Oh my gosh! It’s Adrian and Lisa. OMG! OMG!” The shriek cut straight through my thoughts. I caught Adrian rolling his eyes, then, like we were programmed, we both smiled immediately. “Please, can we take pictures? I love you both so much,” one of them said excitedly. “I feel like I’m dreaming,” another added, practically bouncing. “Sure, we’d love that,” I said, glancing at Adrian. That’s when I noticed it. His eyes. Fixed on one of them. I knew that look. He was undressing her with his eyes, right in front of me. I clenched my fists, humiliation burning through me. Maybe I was overthinking it. But one thing was certain: I couldn’t remember the last time Adrian had looked at me that way. I swallowed and forced myself to stay calm. The pictures ended, and for a moment, I thought everything was back to normal. Even though I hated my normal. Then Adrian did something unexpected. He grabbed her. Not her hand. Her ass. My breath caught. Shock rooted me to my seat. She turned to face him, her cheeks flushed red—red with fluster. Adrian licked his bottom lip, never taking his eyes off her. “I don't forget faces like yours” he murmured, his hands still on her ass, rubbing and squeezing gently. “But I’d rather remember your number.” She took his phone and typed it in, smiling like she’d just won the lottery. I watched. Disgust crawling over my skin. She walked away glowing with happiness. “I’m sick and bored here. Let’s just—” I splashed the glass of wine straight into his face. I didn’t realize how done I was until that moment. “What the f**k, Lisa? Are you insane?” he shouted. “I was,” I said, standing up. “Until now.” He stared at me, shocked, like he genuinely didn’t understand what he’d just done. “What the hell, you f*****g b***h!” He jumped up, enraged. Before I could think, I threw my hand across his face. He fell back into his chair. Every head in the restaurant turned toward us. I didn’t care. “Sit down. People are watching,” he muttered. No. For too long, I’d been sitting quietly, letting people watch while they decided my worth for me. “I want them to watch,” I said calmly. I slid the engagement ring off my finger. It glinted under the lights as I threw it at him. “I’m done, you dirtbag. You’re free to grab as many asses as you please.” I picked up my bag. “Put the bill on his tab,” I told the waiter who had rushed over. My hands were trembling. My heart hammered loudly in my chest. But I held myself together, chin lifted, spine straight. It was about time, Lisa. You deserved a lot better than him. I texted my driver, and he pulled up in seconds. I scrambled into the backseat. I pressed my temples together, trying to keep my head from exploding. "Where to, ma’am?" he asked quietly. "Home," I breathed. As the car pulled away, my gaze landed on my hand. I raised my fingers, staring at the empty space where the diamond used to sit. It had been years since my hand looked this bare. I expected to feel free, happy. But I wasn't. When I touched my face, my skin was slick. I hadn't even realized I was crying. Why wouldn't I? He wasn't worth the salt in my tears, but I had loved him. Our relationship started as a PR stunt—a "ship" the fans craved and the agency demanded. I’d agreed without a second thought because Adrian had been my celebrity crush long before I was his peer. Every movie we filmed together made my heart flutter. It started fake, and just like a tired script, I thought it had blossomed into something real. *f**k it.* I blew my nose into a tissue, the bitterness rising in my throat. I dreaded what was coming next, but I didn't realize how bad it would be. When the car reached my parents' mansion, I stepped out into the cold air. The moment I pushed open the front door, a thundering slap greeted me. My head snapped to the side. I clutched my burning cheek, my eyes stinging with fresh shock. "Go back!" my father roared. "Dad..." I whispered, my voice breaking. "Don't call me that! How could you be so damn foolish?" "What have I done?" I asked, my hands shaking. "What did I do this time?" "What have you not done should be the damn question," he spat. "I suggest you check your phone," my mother added from the couch. I pulled it out. My screen was a graveyard of missed calls and notifications. I’d kept it on silent for the date—a date that was supposed to save us. I scrolled, my vision blurring as the truth hit me. The only video trending was of me. It showed me splashing the wine, me screaming, and me slapping the "golden boy." His hand on that girl’s ass? Not there. His insults? Silent. The world only saw a hysterical woman attacking their favorite star. "You’re trending, Lisa," my mother echoed. "For all the wrong reasons." I looked up at my father, my heart breaking. "You didn't even hear my side of the story." "I don't give a f**k about your story!" he growled, stepping closer. "What I give a f**k about is that I took you off the streets. I stopped you from taking c***s down your throat for crumbs. I made you Lisa Beckett. The star. I asked for one thing from you. One. And you ruined it." The air left my lungs. The "local slut" he’d saved. That was all I was to him. "That’s too harsh, Gerald. Enough," my mother said, finally standing. "Like I didn't save this ingrate," he muttered, throwing a look of disgust my way. "Let me handle it," she said, walking toward me. "You better do it right," he warned, his voice a low threat before he stormed off. My mother didn't hug me. She didn't ask if I was okay. She just looked at my red cheek and pointed toward the stairs. "Go to your room." I managed to climb the steps, my legs wobbling like a newborn’s. Every step felt like I was sinking deeper into a grave I hadn't even dug. I sat on the edge of my bed, staring at nothing. My head buried between my knees, my father's words resounding in my head. My phone vibrated. Once. I almost ignored it. Then it buzzed again. **Dave**. My manager. I exhaled. I answered slowly. “Hello?” “Lisa,” he said, his voice too professional. “We need to talk.” “About what?” I asked, though I already knew. “Everything,” he replied. “Come to the office. Now.” A pause. Then, almost as an afterthought— “Your father will be there.” The line went dead. I stared at the screen long after the call ended. For the first time that night, fear settled in my bones. Not of Adrian. Not of the public. But of what they were about to take from me next.