opps. I have a boyfriend

I stopped crying because I felt embarrassed for tearing up in front of someone over problems that didn’t concern him. So I told him, “Oh, I’m sorry,” then quickly gathered my things and left in a hurry—before he could see how smudged my makeup had become. I didn’t even give him a chance to speak.

I rushed into the bathroom and looked up at the mirror. I thought I saw a ghost.

I looked terrifying—almost unrecognizable.

I cleaned myself up, made sure I didn’t look like a mess, then walked out.

I had barely taken a step out of the bathroom when the person I was trying to avoid appeared right in front of me. He looked at me and said hello, and for a second, I wondered if he even remembered me.

I said, “Hi, how are you?”—my voice light, my smile effortless.

At least I hoped it looked that way.

He went on about his amazing life. His fiancée, Christine. Their happiness. Their future.

I smiled like I cared, while thinking, Seriously? I asked how you were, not for a wedding announcement.

Then he smiled and said, “By the way, Christine loves your fashion brand. She follows everything you do.”

I managed a polite smile, nodding. “Tell her thanks for the support. It means a lot.”

And just when I thought the conversation had reached its peak awkwardness, he looked at me—dead serious—and said,

“I was wondering if you would design her wedding dress? It would mean the world to her.”

For a second, I couldn’t hear anything else around me. Just that one request echoing in my head—the last thing I ever imagined he’d ask.

The last thing I ever wanted to be part of.

I smiled and said, “Of course. I’d be honoured to design her dress.”

My voice didn’t even shake. I sounded calm—maybe even sincere.

But in the back of my mind, I was screaming.

I didn’t want to do it.

I didn’t want to be part of their story.

I wanted to say no.

Then, almost like an afterthought, he finally turned the question back to me.

“How are you? How’s life?”

I smiled and held my head high. “It’s amazing. I’m happy where I am.”

A rehearsed answer—smooth and safe.

Then came the question I really didn’t want him to ask.

“Are you seeing anyone?”

My heart skipped. I paused—but not for too long.

“Yeah,” I said, too quickly.

A lie.

A big, shiny, protective lie.

The truth was, I wasn’t seeing anyone.

The last guy I liked didn’t feel the same—which was him—but I wasn’t about to let him know that.

He raised an eyebrow. “Do I know him?”

And before I could stop myself, I blurted, “Probably not. His name’s... Derek.”

Derek? Who the hell is Derek?

Why did I say Derek?

Now I had a boyfriend.

Apparently.

A fictional one I didn’t even know.

He smiled at me—warm and easy.

“I’m really happy for you.”

I smiled back.

Then he said, “Hey, after we meet to talk about Christine’s dress, we should go on a double date. You, me, Christine... and Derek.”

And just like that, the air vanished from the room.

My brain froze. Internally screaming:

Why? Why are you doing this to me?

I couldn’t even think fast enough to come up with an excuse.

All I knew was—there was no Derek.

Not even close.

And now, I needed to conjure one. Quickly.

But I’d already come this far with the lie.

So I nodded and said, “Yes. He’d love that. He’d be so happy to meet you both.”

And as the words left my mouth, I thought,

Cool. Now I get to go find a boyfriend who doesn’t exist. Fantastic.

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