Updated Mar 13, 2026 • ~8 min read
Noah’s apartment smells like garlic bread.
I’m standing in the hallway outside his door, clutching a bottle of wine like it’s a life preserver, trying to calm my racing heart.
This is fine. I’ve had dinner at Noah’s place a thousand times. I can handle one more.
Except this time, I’m hiding the fact that I’m secretly married to his best friend.
His best friend who I’m now actually dating.
His best friend who is currently standing three feet behind me, looking way too calm for someone about to lie to his best friend’s face.
“You ready?” Holden asks quietly.
“No.”
“Me neither.”
“Then why do you look so relaxed?”
“Years of practice lying to clients about contract negotiations.” He pauses. “That came out wrong.”
“You think?”
The door opens before we can knock.
Noah stands there in jeans and a Henley, grinning. “There you are! I was about to send a search party. Get in here.”
He pulls me into a hug. Over his shoulder, I see Holden’s jaw tighten slightly.
Right. Jealousy. That’s new.
“Hey, bro.” Noah releases me and goes in for the bro-hug with Holden. “Long time no see. Where you been?”
“Busy week,” Holden says smoothly. “New client.”
“Yeah? Anyone I know?”
“Doubt it. Rookie linebacker. Just signed.”
They start talking shop. I use the opportunity to escape to the kitchen where Margot is pulling lasagna out of the oven.
“Tessa!” She sets down the dish and hugs me. “Thank God you’re here. I need your opinion on something.”
“Sure. What’s up?”
“Noah wants to get a dog.”
“Okay?”
“A GREAT DANE.”
I blink. “In this apartment?”
“EXACTLY.” Margot gestures around the modest two-bedroom. “Where would we even put a Great Dane?”
“You wouldn’t. It would just be a horse that lives inside.”
“Thank you! That’s what I said! But he saw one at the park last week and now he’s obsessed.”
We’re laughing when the guys walk in. Noah immediately wraps his arms around Margot from behind, kissing her temple.
“What are we laughing about?”
“Your terrible dog ideas,” Margot says.
“Great Danes are majestic.”
“Great Danes are massive.”
“So? We’ll get a bigger place.”
“Are you proposing we move just so you can get a giant dog?”
“I’m saying it’s an option.”
They bicker playfully while Margot stirs the salad. I watch them with a strange ache in my chest.
That’s what real couples look like. Easy. Natural. No lies or secrets or hidden marriages.
I glance at Holden. He’s leaning against the counter, watching me with an expression I can’t quite read.
When our eyes meet, something passes between us. A silent conversation.
We’ll get there. We’ll figure it out.
I hope so.
“Alright, food’s ready,” Margot announces. “Everyone grab something and let’s eat.”
We settle around Noah’s dining table. It’s small—we’re practically on top of each other—but that’s how Noah likes it. “Cozy,” he calls it.
Margot serves the lasagna. Noah pours wine. Holden is sitting directly across from me, his knee occasionally bumping mine under the table.
Each time it happens, my heart skips.
“So Tessa,” Noah says, cutting into his lasagna. “How was Vegas? Wild bachelorette party?”
I choke on my wine.
Holden’s knee presses against mine. Steady. Grounding.
“It was good,” I manage. “You know Wren. She planned everything.”
“I saw some photos on Instagram. Looked like you guys had fun.”
“Yeah. Lots of… fun.”
Getting accidentally married fun. But I can’t say that.
“And you?” I turn to Holden, desperate to redirect. “Bachelor party looked pretty tame from what Noah posted.”
“It was fine. Casino. Some drinks. Pretty standard.”
Our eyes meet across the table. I can see the same tension I feel reflected in his face.
“Although,” Noah says slowly, “you did disappear Saturday night. Where’d you go?”
My heart stops.
Holden doesn’t miss a beat. “Met a girl. You know how it is.”
The lie is smooth, practiced. But it hits me like a punch to the gut.
Because he didn’t meet a girl. He was with me. But he can’t say that.
So he’s pretending I don’t exist.
I know it’s necessary. I know we agreed to keep this secret. But it still hurts.
“Anyone serious?” Margot asks.
“Nah. Just a weekend thing.”
He’s looking at his plate. Not at me.
Noah laughs. “Classic Holden. Commitment-phobe to the end.”
“Maybe I just haven’t met the right person.”
This time he does look at me. Just for a second. But it’s enough.
“What about you, Tessa?” Margot asks. “Any prospects?”
“Oh, um. Not really.”
“Come on, you’re gorgeous and successful. The guys must be lining up.”
“I’m just… focused on work right now.”
“That’s what she always says,” Noah mutters. “I keep telling her to get out there. Date. Have fun. But she’s married to her job.”
Holden’s fork clatters against his plate.
“You okay, man?” Noah asks.
“Fine. Just dropped my fork.”
“You sure? You’ve been acting weird all night.”
“I’m fine.”
But he’s not fine. I can see the tension in his shoulders. The way his jaw is clenched.
This is torture for both of us.
“Actually,” I say suddenly, “I should probably go. Early morning tomorrow.”
“What? But we haven’t even had dessert. Margot made tiramisu.”
“I know, I’m sorry. I just—work stuff. You know how it is.”
I’m already standing. Grabbing my purse. Trying to escape before I accidentally blurt out the truth.
“I’ll walk you out,” Holden says.
“You don’t have to—”
“I should go too. Early client meeting.”
Noah frowns. “Both of you? Seriously?”
“Sorry, bro. Rain check on dessert?”
We practically flee to the elevator. The doors close behind us.
Silence.
“That was a disaster,” I say.
“Complete disaster.”
“‘Met a girl.’ Really?”
“What was I supposed to say? ‘Actually, I married your sister in Vegas’?”
“You could have just not answered.”
“That would have been more suspicious!”
The elevator reaches the ground floor. We step out into the lobby.
It’s empty. Quiet. Just us and the echo of our footsteps.
“I hate this,” I say quietly. “I hate lying to him.”
“Me too.”
“We have to tell him. Soon.”
“I know.” Holden stops walking. Turns to face me. “But can we just… have a little more time? Figure out what this is before we drop a bomb on his life?”
He’s right. Of course he’s right.
But I still feel guilty.
“Come on,” Holden says. “Let me drive you home.”
“We live in the same place.”
“Exactly. So let me drive us home.”
The word “home” does something to my chest.
We walk to his car in silence. Once we’re inside, doors closed, the tension eases slightly.
“That was awful,” I say.
“The worst.”
“And we have to do it again next week?”
“Probably.”
“I don’t know how long I can keep this up.”
Holden reaches across the console and takes my hand. “Hey. Look at me.”
I do.
“We’ll figure it out. Together. Okay?”
“Okay.”
He drives us home—there’s that word again—with our hands linked across the console. It’s a small thing. A simple gesture.
But it makes everything feel more bearable.
When we get back to the apartment, I head straight for my room. I need space. Need to process the weirdness of tonight.
But Holden catches my hand before I can disappear.
“Wait.”
I turn.
He looks at me for a long moment. “I’m sorry. About what I said. The ‘met a girl’ thing.”
“You had to say something.”
“I know. But I still hated saying it. Like I was erasing you.”
“We agreed to keep it secret.”
“Doesn’t make it easier.”
He steps closer. His thumb traces circles on the back of my hand.
“For what it’s worth,” he says quietly, “I didn’t meet a girl in Vegas. I mean, technically I did. But she’s the only girl I’ve been thinking about for the past eleven years. And sitting across from her tonight, pretending like she’s just my best friend’s sister and not my wife, was the hardest thing I’ve ever done.”
My breath catches.
“Holden—”
“I’m not good at this. The secret thing. I want to tell people you’re mine. I want to hold your hand at dinner and kiss you goodbye and not have to pretend like we’re just tolerating each other.”
“We’ll get there.”
“Promise?”
“Promise.”
He kisses me then. Soft and sweet and full of all the things we couldn’t say at dinner.
When he pulls back, I’m breathless.
“Get some sleep,” he murmurs. “Tomorrow’s a new day.”
“Tomorrow we still have to lie to everyone.”
“True. But at least we’ll be lying together.”
I laugh despite myself. “That’s a terrible silver lining.”
“Best I’ve got.”
I kiss him one more time and disappear into my room.
But as I lie in bed, staring at the ceiling, all I can think about is Noah’s face. The trust in his eyes.
The trust I’m betraying with every second I don’t tell him the truth.
This can’t last forever.
Something has to give.
And when it does, I just hope Noah doesn’t hate us both.
END OF CHAPTER 7
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