Updated Oct 23, 2025 • ~12 min read
LINA’S POV
“Your mother arrives tomorrow,” I said, folding laundry on our bed. Our bed. When had I started thinking of it that way?
“I’m aware.” Seb was pacing. He’d been pacing for twenty minutes.
“And the home study is in three days.”
“Also aware.”
“And you still haven’t told her we’re married.”
He stopped pacing. “I was thinking I’d just… let her figure it out when she gets here?”
“Sebastian Santoro, are you seriously planning to ambush your mother with a surprise daughter-in-law?”
“When you say it like that, it sounds bad.”
“Because it IS bad!” I threw a shirt at him. “What if she hates me? What if she can tell this whole thing is fake? What if she—”
“She won’t hate you.” He caught the shirt, set it down, pulled me to my feet. “It’s impossible to hate you.”
“You don’t know that.”
“I do. Because I tried.” His hands settled on my hips. “When we first met, I tried to keep you at a distance. Tried to remember this was just business. And I failed spectacularly.”
“Seb—”
“My mother will love you. I promise.” He kissed my forehead. “And if she doesn’t, I’ll just have to love you enough for both of us.”
My breath caught. He said it so casually now. Love you. Like it was the simplest truth in the world.
“I need to call my mom,” I said suddenly.
“What?”
“My mom. I haven’t told her either. About the marriage or the pregnancy or any of this.” Guilt twisted in my stomach. “She’s going to be so hurt.”
“Call her now.”
“Now?”
“Why not? We’re already in crisis mode. Might as well go all in.”
SEB’S POV
Lina’s hands shook as she dialed.
I sat next to her on the bed, close enough to touch but giving her space. The phone rang three times before a warm voice answered.
“Mija! Finally! I was beginning to think you forgot about your poor mother.”
“Hi, Mama.” Lina’s voice cracked. “I’m sorry I haven’t called. I’ve been… busy.”
“Busy is good! Tell me, how’s the design work? Are you eating enough? You sound tired.”
“Mama, I need to tell you something.”
The warmth in her mother’s voice shifted to concern. “What’s wrong? Are you okay?”
“I’m fine. Better than fine. I just… I got married.”
Silence.
Then: “You WHAT?”
“I got married. Three months ago. His name is Sebastian and he’s wonderful and I’m so sorry I didn’t tell you sooner but everything happened so fast and—”
“Three months? Lina Maria Moreno, you’ve been married for THREE MONTHS and you’re just telling me now?”
I winced. Even I could feel the hurt in her voice.
“I know. I’m sorry. I was scared you’d think I was being reckless.”
“Were you?”
Lina looked at me. “Maybe. But I’m happy, Mama. Really happy.”
“Let me talk to him.”
“What?”
“Your husband. Let me talk to him. Right now.”
Lina’s eyes went wide with panic. I held out my hand for the phone.
“Mrs. Moreno,” I said. “It’s nice to finally speak with you.”
“Is it? Because from where I’m sitting, you married my daughter and didn’t even have the decency to introduce yourself.”
“You’re right. That was wrong of us.” I kept my voice respectful. “We should have called immediately. We should have given you the chance to be part of it. I’m sorry.”
A pause.
“You have an accent,” she said.
“Italian. I grew up in Milan.”
“And what do you do, Sebastian from Milan?”
“I’m a software engineer. I run a development team for a tech company here in the city.”
“Do you love my daughter?”
The question was direct. Unflinching.
“More than anything,” I said, and meant it.
Another pause. Longer this time.
“Lina says everything happened fast.”
“It did. But some things don’t need time. Some things you just know.”
“Hmm.” I couldn’t tell if that was approval or skepticism. “Put Lina back on.”
I handed back the phone. Lina looked terrified.
“Mama?”
“I want to meet him. Properly. Video call. This weekend.”
“We can do that.”
“And mija? Next time you do something this important, you tell me first. Okay?”
“Okay. I promise.” Lina’s voice was thick. “I love you, Mama.”
“I love you too, baby. Even when you give me heart attacks.”
After she hung up, Lina collapsed back on the bed.
“That was terrifying,” she said.
“You did great.”
“She wants to video call this weekend.”
“I heard.”
“What if she sees through us?”
I lay down next to her, turning on my side to face her. “Then we’ll deal with it. Together.”
“You keep saying that.”
“Because I mean it.” I traced her jawline with my finger. “Lina, I know this started as a performance. But what I feel for you? That’s real. And I’m done pretending it’s not.”
She turned to face me fully. “When did you know?”
“Know what?”
“That this wasn’t fake anymore. That you…” She swallowed. “That you actually loved me.”
I thought about it. “The night you got sick. The first time. When I held your hair back and you were so embarrassed and I just thought… I want to do this for the rest of my life.”
“That’s very romantic. Me vomiting.”
“It was real. Unglamorous and messy and real.” I tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. “When did you know?”
“The courthouse. When you declared you loved me in front of the judge.” She smiled. “I knew you were performing. But the way you looked at me when you said it… I wanted it to be true so badly it scared me.”
“It was true. Even then.”
“How could it be? We barely knew each other.”
“Maybe that’s the point. Maybe we didn’t need to know everything about each other to know we fit.”
She kissed me then—slow and sweet and full of promise. When we pulled apart, she was crying.
“Hormones,” she said, laughing through tears. “Everything makes me cry now.”
“I don’t mind.”
“Seb, there’s something else I need to tell you. About the baby.”
My stomach tightened. “Okay.”
“I have my first ultrasound scheduled. Next week. After the home study.” She took my hand, placed it on her still-flat stomach. “I was wondering if… if you wanted to come with me.”
“Yes.”
“You didn’t even think about it.”
“I don’t need to think about it. Of course I want to be there.” I spread my fingers over her belly. “This baby might not be mine biologically. But Lina, I already love them. Because they’re part of you.”
She kissed me again, and this time it was different. Deeper. More urgent. Her hands tangled in my hair, her body pressing against mine.
“Lina,” I murmured against her lips. “We should stop.”
“Why?”
“Because if we don’t, I won’t be able to.”
She pulled back, her eyes dark with want. “Then don’t.”
🔥 BONUS CHAPTER OPPORTUNITY 🔥
LINA’S POV
The next morning, I woke up wrapped around Seb like a vine.
We’d fallen asleep tangled together after… after everything. My face heated remembering it. The way he’d touched me. The way I’d fallen apart in his arms. The way he’d whispered my name like a prayer.
“Good morning,” he murmured, his voice rough with sleep.
“Morning.” I traced patterns on his bare chest. “Your mom arrives in six hours.”
“Don’t remind me.”
“We should probably get up. Clean the apartment. Make it look like we’ve been happily married for months.”
“It already looks like that.”
I lifted my head to look at him. “Does it?”
“Look around, Lina. Your art supplies on the kitchen table. Your coffee mug next to mine in the sink. Your terrible taste in throw pillows all over the couch.” He smiled. “This place has been ours for a while now. We just finally caught up with reality.”
He was right. Somewhere between the custody battle and sharing a bed, we’d built a life together.
“What if she doesn’t approve?” I asked quietly.
“Of you? Impossible.”
“Of us. The timeline. How fast everything happened.”
“My mother eloped with my father after knowing him three weeks. She’s not exactly one to judge.” He kissed my forehead. “Besides, she’ll take one look at how I look at you and know it’s real.”
“How do you look at me?”
“Like you hung the moon.”
“That’s very poetic for a software engineer.”
“You bring it out in me.”
We stayed like that for another twenty minutes, stealing time before reality crashed back in. Then my phone buzzed.
A text from Stella: Emergency coffee date. Now. Don’t argue.
“Stella’s summoning me,” I said.
“She’s been patient. Three months without meeting me.” Seb sat up. “Maybe you should tell her the truth. About how this started.”
“What? No. She’ll think I’m insane.”
“She already thinks you’re insane. But she’s your best friend. She deserves to know.”
I thought about all the lies I’d told Stella. About the quick marriage and the whirlwind romance. About how I’d kept her at arm’s length because I was terrified she’d see through me.
“You’re right,” I said. “But I’m telling her alone. Without you there to be all charming and distracting.”
“I’m charming?”
“Devastatingly. It’s annoying.”
He grinned. “Go. Have coffee with Stella. Tell her everything. I’ll prep for my mother’s arrival.”
“You mean you’ll panic-clean?”
“Absolutely.”
Stella was already at the coffee shop when I arrived, two lattes waiting.
“Finally,” she said, pulling me into a hug. “I was starting to think your mystery husband had you locked in a tower somewhere.”
“Sorry. Things have been… complicated.”
“Complicated how?” She studied my face. “Wait. Lina, you’re glowing. Like, genuinely glowing. Are you—” Her eyes went wide. “Oh my God. You’re pregnant.”
I froze. “How did you—”
“You ordered decaf. You never order decaf. Plus the glow. And you keep touching your stomach.” She grabbed my hands. “Holy shit. You’re pregnant!”
“Stella—”
“How far along? When were you going to tell me? Does Sebastian know? Of course he knows, you live together. Oh my God, a baby!” She was practically vibrating with excitement.
“There’s more,” I said quietly.
Her smile faltered. “More?”
And then I told her everything. The green card marriage. The arrangement. Jasper. The custody battle. All of it.
By the time I finished, her coffee was cold and she was staring at me like I’d grown a second head.
“Let me get this straight,” she said slowly. “You married a stranger for money. Got pregnant with your ex-fling’s baby. Said stranger is now fighting for custody of a baby that isn’t his. And you’re telling me this NOW?”
“When you put it like that, it sounds insane.”
“Because it IS insane!” She ran her hands through her hair. “Lina, what the hell were you thinking?”
“I wasn’t. I was desperate and broke and stupid.”
“And now?”
I thought about Seb. About waking up in his arms. About the way he’d looked at me last night like I was everything.
“Now I’m in love with him,” I said. “For real. No performance. No arrangement. Just… love.”
Stella’s expression softened. “Oh, honey.”
“I know it’s crazy—”
“It’s not crazy. It’s actually kind of beautiful. In a completely deranged way.” She squeezed my hand. “Does he love you back?”
“He says he does.”
“And you believe him?”
“Yeah. I do.”
She sat back, processing. “Okay. Okay, so here’s what we’re going to do. You’re going to pass this home study. You’re going to prove your marriage is real—which it is now, apparently. And then you’re going to live happily ever after with your fake husband and your real baby.”
“It’s not that simple.”
“Why not?”
“Because what if the court doesn’t believe us? What if they take the baby? What if Seb’s mother shows up and realizes we’re frauds? What if—”
“What if you stop catastrophizing and just let yourself be happy?” Stella leaned forward. “Lina, you’ve spent your whole life playing it safe. Being responsible. Doing the right thing. And where did it get you? Broke and alone. Maybe this crazy, impulsive marriage is exactly what you needed.”
“You’re not mad I lied to you?”
“Oh, I’m furious. You’re buying coffee for the next year.” She smiled. “But I’m also happy for you. Because I’ve never seen you look like this. Like you’ve finally found where you belong.”
I hugged her, crying into her shoulder while she patted my back and called me an idiot in the most loving way possible.
When I got home, Seb had transformed the apartment. Fresh flowers on the table. Candles lit. Soft music playing.
“What’s all this?” I asked.
“Practice,” he said. “For tomorrow. When my mother arrives and judges everything about our life.”
I walked into his arms. “Stella knows.”
“How did she take it?”
“She called me insane. Then hugged me. Then made me promise to introduce you.”
“I’d like that.”
“Seb?” I looked up at him. “No matter what happens with your mom or the home study or any of it… I’m glad we’re doing this.”
“Me too.” He kissed me softly. “Now come on. Help me figure out where to hide all my bachelor nonsense before my mother decides I’m not mature enough to be married.”
We spent the evening making the apartment perfect, and somewhere between rearranging furniture and arguing about throw pillow placement, I realized something.
This wasn’t practice.
This was our life.
And I never wanted it to end.
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