The visit

Two days later, there was a knock on her apartment door."Tim?" Lucy blinked in surprise, still in sweatpants and a messy bun."Sorry, I should've texted," he said, holding up two paper bags. "I brought Thai. You mentioned once you liked curry."She hesitated, then stepped aside. "Come in. Just... don't judge the mess.""I grew up with three siblings. This is luxury," he joked, setting the food on the kitchen counter.They ate cross-legged on her floor, Thai food between them, her tiny lamp casting warm shadows on the walls.It was the first time they'd been together without cameras or contracts."So... this is real, right?" he asked suddenly.She paused mid-bite. "The curry?"Tim gave her a look. "You know what I mean."She lowered her fork. "I do. I just don't know what to say."He nodded slowly, then leaned back on his elbows. "I know this started as a PR stunt. But I like being around you. When we're not pretending, it feels easier... better."Lucy looked at him — not as the man on screen, but the one who showed up at her door with curry and no expectations."I like being around you too," she said quietly.Silence stretched between them. Not awkward. Not uncertain. Just full of possibility.Then, soft and tentative, he reached out and brushed his thumb along her wrist."I don't want to fake this anymore."Lucy's breath hitched. "Then don't."And just like that, the line between fake and real disappeared.