Chapter Six: Public Lies, Private Truths
673 Words
The kiss changed everything.
Or maybe, it changed nothing at all—depending on which part of Maya’s mind she listened to. What she knew for certain was that when she woke up the next morning in her own room, alone, with her lips still tingling and heart still thundering, she couldn’t pretend things were the same.
Adrian didn’t mention it. Not over breakfast, not in the car ride to the charity event they were expected to attend, and not during the staged red carpet moment where the cameras captured every fake smile and perfect pose.
The world saw a flawless couple. Power and poise. Love, seemingly effortless.
But inside Maya’s chest, war raged.
She watched Adrian from across the ballroom. He wore his tuxedo like armor, laughing politely with sponsors and media execs, playing the role he’d perfected. Occasionally, his eyes flicked to her, unreadable. Maya sipped her champagne and smiled back, but her thoughts raced.
Last night had been real. She felt it in the way his hands shook slightly when he touched her, in the broken edges of his confession, in the fire of that kiss. Yet now, he acted like it never happened.
She was tired of pretending. Especially when the truth was so much heavier.
Maya excused herself and stepped out onto the balcony. The city skyline stretched wide, a canvas of flickering lights and shadows. Cool night air brushed her skin, and for the first time in hours, she could breathe without pretending.
She heard footsteps behind her.
“I was wondering how long you’d last in there,” Adrian said quietly.
Maya didn’t turn around. “You’re good at this. The act. The charm. The way you make everyone believe what they want to believe.”
He joined her by the railing. “It’s part of the job.”
“So last night was just another performance?” she asked, voice steady.
“No,” he said after a long pause. “It wasn’t.”
She finally turned to face him. “Then why are you acting like it didn’t happen?”
“Because I don’t know what to do with it.”
“Try not running from it,” she said, eyes locked on his.
Adrian exhaled, the weight of unspoken emotion tightening around them.
“I’m not used to someone seeing through me,” he admitted.
“Then stop hiding.”
He reached for her hand. “If I let this happen—whatever *this* is—I can’t promise I won’t mess it up.”
Maya gave a soft, almost sad smile. “I’m not asking for perfect. I’m asking for honest.”
The moment stretched, unspoken yet thunderous. Adrian squeezed her hand, then slowly brought it to his lips.
“I’ll try,” he whispered. “But I’m warning you—this won’t be easy.”
“It never is,” Maya replied. “But I’d rather walk through fire with honesty than sleepwalk through perfection.”
The sliding doors opened behind them. Tanya appeared, beaming with polite urgency. “They’re calling for you two—press interview in five.”
Adrian dropped Maya’s hand quickly, the public mask slipping back over his face like muscle memory.
Maya nodded to Tanya. “We’ll be right in.”
As the doors closed again, Maya looked back at Adrian. “See? You’re already running again.”
He sighed. “Not from you. From the world.”
“Then let’s stop running together,” she said.
Inside the ballroom, the crowd buzzed. The couple returned, picture-perfect under flashing cameras, but something was different. Their smiles held a quiet sincerity. Maya no longer felt like a puppet; she felt like a partner. Even Adrian’s arm around her waist no longer felt like a prop—but a choice.
After the interview, as the crowd thinned, an older woman in pearls approached Maya.
“You’ve changed him,” she said. “He smiles di
fferently now.”
Maya smiled back. “Maybe he’s just remembering how.”
- Writer
