"The final couples' activity is at ten," she said, towel-drying her hair. "Another trust exercise."
"Great," I muttered, not even trying to hide my lack of enthusiasm.
She paused, looking me in the eye for the first time since yesterday. "We still need to keep up appearances until we check out."
I nodded, hating the distance in her voice. This wasn't my Liv. This was someone else, someone I'd created with my own fear. "I know. I can handle it."
Something flickered across her face, disappointment maybe, before she turned away. "Good."
Breakfast was another exercise in awkward silence, broken only by necessary conversation to maintain our cover. Olivia picked at her food, her fingers occasionally finding the hair tie on her wrist, the nervous habit she thought no one noticed.
I noticed everything about her. Always had.
The last activity was held in a bright room with floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking the lake. Couples sat scattered around the space on comfortable cushions, partners positioned back-to-back.
"Today we're exploring emotional vulnerability and safety," Serena said. "You'll sit with your backs touching, unable to see each other's faces. This creates a safe space for honesty. I'll ask a question, and you'll each answer honestly, without interruption from your partner."
Olivia and I settled onto our cushions, her back warm against mine. Even this minimal contact sent electricity skittering down my spine. I closed my eyes, savoring it even though I didn’t deserve it.
"First question," Serena called out. "What makes you feel most vulnerable in your relationship?"
Silence fell as couples considered their answers. Then, one by one, people began to speak. Soft murmurs filled the room, confessions and fears shared in the safety of this strange arrangement.
When it was our turn, Olivia spoke first, her voice so quiet I had to strain to hear her.
"I hate feeling invisible," she said, the words landing like a heavy weight in the bottom of my gut. "Like what I want, what I feel, doesn't matter enough to even be acknowledged."
I swallowed hard. She wasn't talking about our fake relationship anymore.
"Your turn," Serena prompted when I remained silent.
I took a deep breath. "I need... I need to be seen," I admitted. "Even when I can't say the words. Especially then."
I felt Olivia's slight intake of breath, the way her spine stiffened against mine. But she didn't speak, and the moment passed as Serena moved on to the next couple.
"Question two: What makes you feel safest with your partner?"
This time I spoke first, the words coming easier now. "When she doesn't let me get away with my bullshit. When she calls me on it, pushes back. Makes me better."
Behind me, Olivia's breath hitched. When she spoke, her voice was thick with emotion. "When he sees me, really sees me, even when I think I'm hiding."
The questions continued, each one digging deeper. With every answer, the pretense slipped away, leaving only raw truth between us. We weren't talking about our fake relationship anymore. We were talking about us—the real us, the friendship that had defined most of my life, the bond that ran deeper than I'd ever admitted.
"Final question," Serena announced. "What are you most afraid to tell your partner right now?"
The room fell silent again, the weight of the question settling over everyone. This time, neither one of us spoke right away. I could feel the tension in her back, the slight tremble that ran through her.
"I'm afraid," she finally whispered. "That I've been fooling myself. That what I thought was real was... convenient. Temporary." Her voice broke on the last word.
I closed my eyes, my heart hammering against my ribs. This was it… my moment to be brave, to tell her everything.
And I fucking choked.
"I'm afraid of losing what we have," I said instead. "Of changing something that works and ruining everything."
It wasn't a lie, but it wasn't the whole truth either. I wasn't only afraid of losing what we had. I was terrified of not being enough for her, of her realizing she could do better. I always had been.
As the activity concluded, couples turned to face each other, many of them with tear-streaked faces and loving smiles. Reconnecting, reaffirming.
