Fake Love Built on Daily CheckIns

1 A TikTok street interview went viral; the host asked Ryan how he maintains a long relationship.

Smiling to the camera, Ryan shared they never skip daily routines even midfights: goodnight texts, meal photos and constant updates.

The quote shot him to top trends, netizens praising him as the ideal boyfriend.

Among warm comments stood one bitter reply from his ex Natalie, claiming Ryan used to have a violent temper. My smile faded.

Their breakup was brutal, so I rushed to defend him online.

I wrote he calms his rage by assembling furniture at our future house and sends blurry work photos to signal he needs comfort. Users went crazy over his thoughtfulness.

My training ended early, so I rebooked a flight to surprise and comfort him in person. The door of our new house hung ajar when I arrived.

Ryan pinned a woman against our wedding portrait, her messy handprints smearing my face in the photo. My hand shook on the doorknob. His daily reminder chimed.

He snapped a blurry photo of curtains and tossed his phone aside. The woman sneered that his sweet girlfriend would collapse if she learned the truth behind those photos.

Ryan stayed cold and unyielding, telling her to hush and calling me a far better girl than her.In my pocket, my phone vibrated.

The blurry, dark picture of the curtains popped up on my screen. With a slight shudder of my hand, the door swung open. Our eyes locked.

Ryan froze for a brief moment, then slowly, calmly, he began buttoning his shirt. He walked over and took the suitcase from my hand. "Maybe it is better you saw this.

Keeping it from you was getting exhausting." He pointed at the woman. "This is Natalie. My ex." Natalie arched an eyebrow.

She walked past me to the cabinet, pulling out a bath towel with practiced ease. She looked me up and down, then tilted her head toward Ryan. "You have decent taste.

No wonder you like her. The sweet girl looks even better in person than she does on social media." Ryan's expression darkened. He grabbed her wrist. "Social media?

She is different from you. Stay away from her." Natalie slapped his hand away, stuck her tongue out, and strolled into the bathroom.

The sound of running water started almost immediately.

Ryan turned back to me, pulling me toward the sofa. "If you were coming back early, why didn't you ask me to pick you up?" He sighed, trying to smooth things over. "Even when we fight, I am still your boyfriend." It took me a long time to find my voice. "Not anymore," I whispered.

Ryan's brow furrowed.

With a sudden sweep of his hand, the orangescented candle I had brought back as a gift was knocked off the coffee table, shattering on the floor. "Jane, I can never bring myself to take my anger out on you.

What is so wrong with me finding an outlet?" He glared at me. "I update you on every single detail of my day.

Is that still not enough for you?" In an instant, his words tore open a buried memory. Years ago, my parents had a silent fight, and my father walked out, vanishing for a week.

My mother had gone out into a raging blizzard, crying as she tried to reach the police station, only to receive the news of my father's fatal car crash.

She collapsed in the snow, breaking her leg. At the funeral, Ryan held my trembling hand and whispered over and over, "Don't be afraid, Jane. I will always tell you where I am.

I will update you on everything so you never have to worry." Now, the sharp scent of the orange candle mixed with the musk of sex in the room, making my eyes burn with tears.

Ryan's warm fingertips touched my cheek, his tone softening. "The house is finished. Let's get married.

We can move your mother in with us." He pulled a ring box from his pocket. "I even designed the place with her in mind." I looked around the apartment.

There were no thresholds at the entrance, the hallways were wide enough for a wheelchair to turn smoothly, and all the sharp corners of the furniture were wrapped in soft padding.

My chest tightened. The doctor had told me my mother's health was failing rapidly, and her greatest wish was to see me walk down the aisle. The bathroom door clicked open.

Natalie stepped out, wrapping the towel loosely around herself. "So?

Does she like the ring?" She smiled, looking at us. "Since we fell for the same man, our tastes must be identical." She patted Ryan on the shoulder, the towel slipping down a fraction more. "Just deduct my consulting fee from my wedding registry gift." I could not take it anymore.

I grabbed the ring and hurled it straight at her face. "Why are you always here? Do you not have your own home?

Why do you have to ruin everything?" A heavy silence fell over the room. Natalie's eyes welled with tears, and she let out a bitter, selfdeprecating laugh. "Actually, I don't.

My dad abandoned us, and my mom died of a heart attack." She bent down, picked up the ring, and placed it on the coffee table. As she pulled on her coat, she mumbled, "I'll leave.

If you need a discount on wedding catering, let me know. I can get you a deal." Ryan grabbed her by the wrist to stop her.

He turned his gaze to me, the anger in his eyes no longer hidden. "Jane, didn't you just say we were broken up?" My mouth opened, but no sound came out.

He let out a cold laugh, grabbed my suitcase, and pushed me out into the hallway. The door slammed shut in my face.

Through the thin wood, I heard his voice, sharp and clear. "Then who said this house was yours?" At three in the morning, the wind off the river was freezing, bringing down a sudden torrent of rain.

Standing by the curb in nothing but thin clothes and slippers, the rain poured down my collar and ran down my back. I shivered to the bone.

I hailed a cab back to the research institute's staff apartments. The driver was an older woman.

She glanced at me in the rearview mirror and spoke gently. "Sweetheart, there is nothing in this life you can't get over. The past is just scenery.

You have to keep moving forward." She paused, handing me a tissue. "My daughter is about your age. Don't cry.

Your mother would be heartbroken to see you like this." I reached up to touch my face, only to realize I was completely drenched in tears. She was right. I had to look forward.

I took a deep breath and sent a message to my director. "I will take the lead on the joint research project in Boston." Within seconds, my phone rang.

The old director's voice was filled with excitement. "You'll take it? That changes everything. Our success rate just doubled.

I thought you backed out because you were getting married.

I'll book your flight right away." When I unlocked the door to my apartment, I was shocked to find Ryan sitting on the sofa.

Hearing the door, he stood up, wrapping his arms around me and burying his face in my neck. "Jane, I am so sorry.

You have no idea how worried I was about you." I pushed him away, looking straight into his eyes.

I held out my hand. "Give me back my keys." Ryan gripped my shoulders, his tone patronizing, as if he were dealing with a throwing a tantrum. "Stop being childish, Jane.

Tomorrow I will help you pack, we will move your things to our new place, and then we will head to City Hall to register our marriage." He hesitated before adding, "But Natalie has no one else in this world.

We should set aside the guest room for her, okay?" My phone buzzed in my pocket. It was the confirmation for my flight to Boston, departing in three days. I gave a dull nod.

Ryan stared at me, visibly caught off guard by how quickly I had surrendered.

A relieved smile spread across his face. "I missed you so much while you were gone." He leaned in to kiss me, but a wave of nausea washed over me. I pushed him away and gagged.

He reached out to pat my back, but I took a sharp step away from him. His fingers hovered in the air before he slowly pulled his hand back.

The next second, his phone began to ring. "Ryan, Natalie just had a massive asthma attack at the mixology competition!" Ryan hung up the phone.

When he looked at me, his eyes were filled with profound disappointment. "Jane, don't do things like this again." I stared at him, confused.

He rubbed his temples, looking exhausted. "You saw on her social media that she has asthma, so you deliberately brought that orangescented candle into the house to trigger her." "Stop these pathetic little games." "Get some sleep.

I will come by to help you move tomorrow." The door clicked shut behind him. Outside, the headlights of his car swept across the window before fading into the rainy night.

My phone screen lit up with endless notifications from the institute's group chat. "Jane, let's celebrate your promotion and the Boston trip.

We are out tonight, come join us!" I looked at the bar location they shared. It looked familiar.

Perhaps driven by the final, stubborn ember of resentment in my chest, I replied, "On my way." The bar was a blur of flashing lights and loud music.

My colleague Lily immediately pulled me into a booth and handed me a glass of juice. "You finally made it!

This place is famous for its live mixology tournaments." She pointed toward the stage.

In the center of the spotlight, Natalie was flipping bottles, the liquor carving elegant arcs through the air. I let out a bitter laugh. Of course it was this bar.

Lily leaned in closer, whispering the local gossip. "You missed the drama earlier. The bartender coughed a few times, and this incredibly handsome guy rushed in from outside.

I heard he is her ex. Apparently, they had a horrible breakup years ago, but true love always finds a way, right?" I followed her gaze.

Right across from the stage, Ryan was leaning back in a leather chair, a drink in his hand, his eyes locked onto Natalie. When his eyes shifted and caught mine, he froze.

He stood up abruptly, cutting through the crowded dance floor, and grabbed my wrist with a tight grip. "Jane, are you stalking me?" He hissed. "Do you really trust me that little?" Lily leaned over, confused. "Jane, is this the devoted guy from online?

Are you guys friends?" Only then did Ryan notice my colleague sitting next to me.

I took a slow sip of my juice and smiled faintly. "No, we aren't close." In our three years together, he had never once attended a single gathering with my coworkers.

I had always assumed he had social anxiety. It turned out he simply reserved his presence for a different circle. Natalie noticed the commotion and walked over from behind the bar.

She looked at me, a smirk playing on her lips as she lightly shook a metallic shaker. "You wouldn't snub my signature drink, would you?" I frowned, but before I could speak, Lily blocked the glass. "Sorry, my friend doesn't drink.

Find someone else." Natalie's eyes turned red instantly.

She looked around at the gathering crowd, letting out a soft sigh. "I guess my mixology skills aren't refined enough to impress this lady." Without warning, Ryan snatched the juice from my hand and forced Natalie's cocktail glass into my palm. "Just one glass, Jane.

Give it a try." I stared up at him, my voice barely a whisper through my gritted teeth. "Ryan, you know I have a lifethreatening alcohol allergy." He leaned in close to my ear, his voice low. "Today is Natalie's big championship.

I know about your allergy." "But if someone with an allergy drinks it and loves it, doesn't that prove how incredible her skills are?" A mocking smile touched my lips.

The logic was entirely absurd. He paused, then added, "If you help her win this trophy tonight, I can finally marry you with a clear conscience.

Jane, just consider this a favor to help me fulfill her dream." Lily's voice was filled with shock. "You are Jane's boyfriend?" I clenched my fists so hard my nails dug into my palms. "Why?" I locked eyes with him. "Why should I have to pay the price for your lingering attachment to your ex?" Embarrassment flashed across Ryan's face, and he coughed nervously.

Natalie chose that moment to tug gently on his sleeve. "It is fine, Ryan.

If I don't win tonight, I can always try again in three years." Ryan squeezed her hand, then glared back at me. "Jane, your mother's physical therapy bills still have two unpaid cycles." My vision blurred, and a loud ringing filled my ears. "Fine, Ryan.

I will drink this." My hand shook as I raised the glass. "And we are officially done." He smiled, dismissive of my words. "Sure.

We can stop being boyfriend and girlfriend, and go straight to being husband and wife." I downed the liquid in one throatburning gulp.

By the time the empty glass hit the table, my vision was already spinning. I tried to stand, stumbling blindly toward the exit as my airways began to constrict.

Suddenly, my jaw was forced open.

Ryan pulled a small amber bottle from his pocket, popped two pills, and forced them down my throat, tilting my head back to make me swallow. "You are fine, Jane.

I always keep your allergy meds on me. I wouldn't have pushed you if I didn't have a safety net." He began rubbing my back to help me catch my breath.

But my breathing did not improve. My chest felt as though it were being wrapped tighter and tighter in plastic wrap.

Bright red hives began spreading rapidly from my wrists up my arms. Ryan's brow furrowed. "What is going on?

Why isn't the medicine working?" Natalie let out a sharp gasp, covering her mouth in mock horror. "Oh no... when I was at your place the other day, I think I mixed up my asthma inhaler pills with the allergy meds in your coat pocket..." Lily jumped up, frantically dialing 911.

Ryan's face turned icy cold. He shoved Natalie's hand away. "How could you be so stupid?

You can't do anything right." But in the next heartbeat, he grabbed Natalie's arm, pulling her toward the exit. "I am taking her to get a new inhaler before she gets blamed for this." As he passed me, he cast a brief, detached glance downward. "Jane, your friend already called the ambulance.

You are smart, you can handle yourself." I collapsed onto the floor, my phone slipping from my hand and ringing loudly. Lily answered it for me.

Just before darkness claimed my consciousness, a voice drifted from the speaker. "Miss Jane, your mother... she jumped from the building during her physical therapy session."