part 16 : fake love confession

The rooftop glowed in warm shades of gold, the sunset casting dreamy light over the picturesque Santorini skyline. It was the kind of setting people paid thousands for just to propose or break up dramatically—and Fiona was here for both.

She sipped her mocktail like it was tea and leaned back, watching Damien and Dominic still frozen at the entrance, blinking like they'd just walked into a Greek telenovela. Their brooding mafia-boy energy had nothing on the sheer audacity of what had just unfolded.

Fiona adjusted her sunglasses with a sweet smile and said, just a bit too loudly, "Alright! Let's clear things up, shall we?"

Adam, her best friend and unwilling co-star in this production, looked like he was about to crawl under the table. "Fiona, please don't—"

She ignored him. Of course.

"I've been keeping a secret," she continued, theatrically pausing as if the restaurant had a live studio audience. "A big one. But I guess it's time to be honest."

Adam's face drained of color. "Wait, what secret?!"

Fiona dramatically turned to him, eyes sparkling with mischief. "I've been in love with him."

She pointed straight at Adam with the flourish of someone throwing a dagger in a Shakespeare play.

The table went silent.

The world, probably, too.

Adam looked like he'd been slapped by air. "WHAT?!"

His girlfriend, already halfway into a rage spiral, gasped like a soap opera character. "WHAT?!"

Fiona turned to the girlfriend like a confessional queen. "It's true. I've always been in love with him. Ever since that time he let me have the last mozzarella stick. That's when I knew."

Adam choked on his own breath. "WHAT ARE YOU EVEN—FIONA—NO—"

"And today," she added, resting her hand over her heart dramatically, "when I tripped over that rock and he caught me, it just… confirmed everything. I think I fell harder for him than I've ever fallen for anyone."

Damien was covering his mouth with his hand, shoulders shaking with suppressed laughter. Dominic looked personally victimized by the absurdity.

"Fiona, please," Adam hissed, leaning toward her. "You are going to get me killed."

But it was too late. The girlfriend, red-faced and trembling with betrayal, shot up like she was about to flip the whole table. "This is what's been happening?! I knew something was off! Feeding strawberries, sunset flirting—THIS?! You've been in love with her?!"

"No, no—babe—it's not true, she's joking!" Adam stammered, standing up like he might actually chase her across Santorini.

Fiona sipped calmly. "Oh, I'm totally joking. But wow, that was some spicy energy. She might set something on fire."

The girlfriend let out a noise between a growl and a scream and stormed off, heels clacking like thunder. One waiter ducked for cover behind a potted plant.

Damien whistled low. "She's gonna need a bucket of ice for that burn."

Dominic shook his head in disbelief. "You actually enjoyed that, didn't you?"

Fiona grinned, unbothered. "With every fiber of my being."

Adam dropped back into his seat, looking like a man who had just survived a shark attack. "This is why people think we're secretly dating. This exact reason."

"You're welcome," Fiona said sweetly. "I keep life interesting."

"I need to go talk to her before she books a one-way ticket back to Athens out of spite," Adam muttered, already pulling out his phone. "I mean, she knows this isn't like that… I think."

"You go fix that," Fiona said, waving him off. "I'll be right here. With popcorn."

Dominic squinted. "Where did you get popcorn?"

Fiona popped a kernel in her mouth with a satisfied crunch. "I carry it for moments like this."

Damien stared at her in awe. "You are terrifying."

"And fabulous," she added, crossing her legs and smiling like the world was her stage and Santorini her dressing room