Clara Vale has everything money can buy—except peace. On the night she’s ready to give it all up and leap from a bridge, a stranger catches her at the edge. Not with strength, but with desperation.
Theo Finch is meek, underdressed, and completely out of place in her world. A small-town dreamer with worn shoes and bigger worries—he came to New York to chase a job, not to become a fake boyfriend to a wealthy, emotionally volatile woman with a vendetta against her family.
But after Clara’s impulsive lie to her domineering father—“I do have a boyfriend. His name is Theo Finch.”—their lives are thrown together in a messy, slow-burning storm of suit fittings, etiquette lessons, and family dinners where secrets simmer just under the surface.
She teaches him how to walk in high society.
He teaches her what it means to be seen.
And just as the lines between pretending and feeling begin to blur, Clara’s pain spills out in a drunken confession: “You know why I was on that bridge? It was my fucking birthday.”
Two people from opposite worlds.
One accidental bond.
No plan for love.
And yet—something real begins to form between the lies and the loneliness.