Chapter 7 LINES CROSSED

Zara didn't sleep that night. She paced her apartment in an oversized hoodie, ignoring her buzzing phone. She'd turned off notifications after the third blog posted headlines like *"Fake Engagement or Real Romance? Tari Amadi and Fiancée Spotted Sharing a Moment."* Every time she saw the words *"real romance"*, her heart twisted. Because deep down, even if it started as fake... something about it was beginning to feel painfully real. The knock came at 2:11 AM. She knew it was him before she opened the door. Tari stood there in joggers and a fitted black shirt, his face unreadable.

"I knew you wouldn't pick up." "I didn't feel like talking." "Good," he said, stepping in, "then listen." Zara didn't stop him. She just crossed her arms and leaned against the counter. He spoke, quiet but direct. "The leak wasn't from me. I checked with my media team. It was someone at the hospital. A nurse saw us leave together." "So what now?" she asked. "You do damage control?" "No." He stepped closer. "I stop pretending." She blinked. "What are you saying?" "I'm saying... maybe I don't want this to be fake anymore." Zara's breath caught. He looked at her, eyes softer than she'd ever seen. "Maybe I want you for real." She laughed nervously. "Tari, we agreed-" "We also kissed. Twice. And stayed up in hospital lounges holding hands like we didn't know better. What are we doing?" Zara shook her head, emotions spilling. "I don't want to be another accessory to your reputation. I've fought to build myself. I don't want to get lost in your world." "You won't." "I already am." He reached for her, but she stepped back. "Don't make promises you're not ready to keep." "Zara-" "I need time." Tari paused, jaw tight. Then he nodded. And left. Zara sank to the floor as the door closed. Because no matter how much she wanted to guard her heart, part of her already knew- She was falling. And this time, there was no contract to protect her. Three days passed. No calls. No texts. Nothing from Tari. Zara thought she'd feel relieved. Instead, every hour of silence cut deeper. Her emotions were all over the place - part of her still angry about the leak, another part terrified of how quickly her feelings had shifted from fake to *something else entirely*. And then there was the small, aching part of her that missed him. Missed the way he said her name when no one was listening. Missed the softness he tried to hide. But she had work to focus on. Her atelier was buzzing. A new celebrity client. A custom wedding gown. Sketches everywhere. Still... her heart wasn't in it. "Zara," her assistant said gently, "your stitchwork's off today." "I know. Sorry. Mind's scattered." "Want to talk about it?" Zara just smiled tightly. "Not yet." *** Tari wasn't doing much better. He sat in his office, staring at the same contract for an hour. He hadn't called her because he didn't want to make it worse. Didn't want to push her away for good. But every part of him screamed to go back, say something, do anything. "You're distracted," Ayo, his best friend and CFO, said casually. Tari grunted. Ayo smirked. "Is it Zara?" Tari didn't respond. Ayo leaned against the desk. "You know... this fake engagement? You were never *this* bothered when it was fake." Tari gave him a long look. Ayo nodded. "Thought so." Tari ran a hand through his hair. "It's not fake anymore." "So tell her that. Again." "She asked for space." "Sure," Ayo shrugged, "but not *forever*. If you want her - really want her - you fight." Tari looked down at his phone. Still nothing from her. But Ayo's words echoed. *If you want her, you fight.* *** Later that night, Zara returned home to find a small white envelope tucked into her front door. No name. Just a red wax seal. Inside: a single note. *I'm not great with feelings. Or with waiting. But I'll be at the bridge. The one we passed after the dinner. 9PM. No pressure. Just... honesty. - T.* She looked at the clock. 8:33PM. Her heart raced. This could be a mistake. But *so was falling for him*, and she'd already done that. So she grabbed her keys and went. "You won't," he said gently. "I don't want someone who shrinks to fit me. I want someone who grows with me. And that's you." She stepped closer, heart hammering. "And what if it doesn't work?" Tari smiled faintly. "Then at least we tried the truth." And in that moment, under the city lights and the sound of water, Zara let herself fall. This time, into his arms. Not because of a contract. Not because of a lie. But because *real love* had finally taken root in the mess they made.