I Agreed to Be Her Fake Boyfriend for One Night and Now She’s My Wife

“I’d love to,” I said.

The woman finally released my shoulder and took my hand instead, interlacing our fingers like we’d done this a thousand times. Her hand was warm and slightly trembling.

We followed her parents out of the bar and onto the street. The moment we were a few steps behind them, she leaned close and whispered.

“Thank you. I’ll explain everything, I promise.”

“And I’m Sophia, by the way, Andrew. But you already know that because I just made it up in front of your parents.”

She let out a small, slightly hysterical laugh.

“I’m so sorry. I panicked. They showed up 3 days early and I wasn’t prepared, and they kept asking about my boyfriend and I didn’t know what to do.”

“So you grabbed a random stranger at a bar?”

“You were the closest person who looked reasonably datable. I didn’t have time to be picky.”

“Reasonably datable. I’ll put that on my dating profile.”

She squeezed my hand.

“I owe you everything. Dinner is on me, and after tonight, you never have to see me again.”

We arrived at an Italian restaurant three blocks away. The hostess seated us at a table near the window, and I found myself sitting across from Sophia’s parents while trying to remember every detail of the fake relationship we’d just invented.

3 months. Coffee shop. Spilled latte.

Her name was Sophia. My name was Andrew, which was actually my real name, so at least I wouldn’t forget that part.

The waiter came and took drink orders. Sophia’s father ordered scotch, her mother ordered white wine, and Sophia ordered red wine and looked like she wanted to drink the entire bottle.

I ordered another beer and tried to look relaxed.

“So, Andrew,” Sophia’s mother began once the waiter left, “tell us about yourself. Where did you grow up?”

“Illinois. Small town outside Chicago. Moved here for college and stayed for work.”

All true. I was accidentally being honest, which made the lying easier.

“And your family?”

“Parents are still in Illinois. One sister, younger. She’s a teacher.”

Also true. This was the easiest fake relationship I’d ever been in.

“Do you see them often?” Sophia’s father asked.

“Few times a year. Holidays, mostly. We video call regularly, though.”

Sophia was watching me with an expression I couldn’t read. Grateful, maybe, but also curious, like she was learning about the person she was supposedly dating.

“What about your intentions with our daughter?” her father asked bluntly.

Sophia choked on her water.

“Dad, we’ve been dating for 3 months. Can we not do the interrogation thing right now?”

“I think it’s a fair question,” her mother said. “You’ve been very secretive about this relationship. We’re just trying to understand what’s happening.”

I could feel Sophia tensing beside me. This was the moment where I could bail, make an excuse, and end this charade before it went any further.

Instead, I reached under the table and found her hand, the same way she’d grabbed mine outside the bar.

“My intentions are to make her happy,” I said. “That’s it. That’s all I’m focused on right now.”

Sophia’s hand tightened around mine. Her father studied me for a long moment, then nodded slightly.

“Good answer.”

The waiter returned with our drinks and took our dinner orders. The conversation shifted to safer topics.

Sophia’s mother talked about their flight in and their hotel. Her father asked about my job in more detail, and I explained web development in a way that made it sound more interesting than it actually was.

Sophia jumped in occasionally with comments that suggested she knew things about my work, my habits, my life. She was good at this, better than I was.

She referenced a fictional movie we’d seen together last week. She mentioned a restaurant we’d tried that had terrible service but amazing food.

She built an entire relationship out of nothing and I followed her lead, adding details that made sense, that felt real. By the time our entrée arrived, I almost believed we’d been dating for 3 months.

Her parents had relaxed considerably. Her mother even smiled when Sophia told a story about me supposedly trying to cook dinner for her and nearly setting off the smoke alarm.