YEARS BACK
"Happy birthday to you, happy birthday to you, happy birthday, happy birthday, happy birthday to you."
Eight-year-old June beamed as she felt the warmth of her mother's hands cupping her cheeks. Their home was filled with guests—classmates, neighbors, and family. The air buzzed with laughter and chatter, and June couldn't be happier knowing that both her parents had planned this special day for her.
Her favorite princesses had come to life—actors dressed in stunning costumes, enchanting the little guests with their graceful performances. Her friends cheered, clapped, and twirled in excitement, but amidst all the joy, a shadow of uncertainty crept into June's heart.
Where's Dad?
She tugged at her mother's dress, her bright eyes searching for him.
"Mom, where's Dad?"
Her mother stiffened. It was a question she had dreaded answering.
"Mom, you said Dad was coming, but it's been hours. He hasn't come, and he hasn't called."
Her father was always the first to wish her a happy birthday. Every year, without fail. But this time, something was different.
Her mother crouched beside her, forcing a small smile. "Honey, I think your dad isn't going to make it. He's busy with work, so"
Before she could finish, June's attention snapped toward the entrance. Her small feet pattered across the floor, dodging guests, as she sprinted toward the man approaching.
"Dad!"
Her tiny arms wrapped tightly around his waist, relief washing over her.
"You're late! My party started hours ago. I should have cut the cake, but I refused to do it without you!" she pouted, expecting an apology.
But her father barely acknowledged her words.
"You know today is her special day. Why did you come late?" her mother's voice sharpened with frustration.
He barely reacted. Instead, his voice came low, urgent. "We need to talk."
Before June could protest, a woman stepped forward from behind him. She was clutching a small child in her arms—a little girl, no older than three.
June frowned as she watched her father's expression change. The moment his eyes fell on the child, concern replaced his usual indifference. Without hesitation, he reached out and took her from the woman's arms, cradling her gently, rocking her to silence.
June's mother stiffened. Her lips trembled before curling into a bitter smile. "You brought her here?"
June had never heard her mother's voice sound like that—sharp, cold, dangerous.
"You know what today is, yet you brought your mistress and your bastard child here? Wasn't it enough that you bought a house for her? You had to bring her to my house too?"
Her father exhaled, his face lined with guilt. "I wouldn't have come if it wasn't important. Your brother is a doctor, please, talk to him. Samantha is sick. She has a hole in her heart and…"
A slap cut through the air.
June flinched.
Her mother's hand was still in mid-air, trembling.
"Wow," her mother whispered, eyes burning with betrayal. "You really are something. First, you ruin my daughter's special day by bringing your bastard here, and now, you expect a favor from me?"
She took a step forward, her voice shaking with rage.
"Hear me loud and clear, Steve. I will never lift a finger to help you or your illegitimate child. She can die for all I care. Her death will be redemption for her parents' sins."
The words hit like a thunderclap. June watched as her father's face crumbled.
He sank to his knees, his head bowed low. "You've taken everything from me—every asset I owned. I'm begging you. Save my daughter, please."
Her mother scoffed. "And what about my daughter? Don't you feel any guilt toward her?"
June's breath caught as her father's eyes flickered toward her. For a fleeting moment, she thought she saw hesitation.
Then, he turned away.
Without a word, he walked toward the door, the woman trailing behind him, the child still in his arms.
And just like that, he was gone.
PRESENT DAY
"Are you alright?"
June jolted, snapping back to reality. She was curled in the corner of the elevator, her arms wrapped around her knees, her face buried in her hands.
Dave stood over her, concern etched into his features.
"Why is she back? Isn't it enough that she took my father? Now she has to take my job?" Her voice cracked as she lashed out, striking Dave's arm in frustration.
He didn't flinch.
"Why? Why is it always different for me? When people look at me, they see a tyrant—a mean, cold woman full of flaws. I'm not saying I'm perfect, but don't I deserve happiness too?"
Her voice dropped to a whisper.
"I only ever wanted his recognition. His apology. But no—his illegitimate daughter is here again, and she's taking what's mine."
Her head rested against the cool metal wall of the elevator, her body shaking with bottled-up emotions.
Dave crouched beside her.
"I don't know much about you," he admitted, "but from what I've seen, you're a fighter. You don't let things get you down so easily."
She lifted her head, eyes narrowing. "You're being honest?"
"Do you really need my assurance to get your fighting spirit back?"
His words caught her off guard. A warmth spread through her chest—alien, yet oddly comforting.
She reached into her bag, dabbing her face with a tissue, then pulling out concealer to fix her smudged makeup.
Dave watched as she applied her red lipstick, transforming her lips into a full bloom of crimson.
He swallowed hard and looked away. He shouldn't be staring.
The second her gaze locked onto him, he knew she had caught him.
Her smirk was dangerous.
"Thanks for the motivational speech," she said, stepping out of the elevator as it reached its stop. "But get this straight—if I hear a word about this from anyone, you're dead. And this doesn't make us friends. Got it?"
She sauntered off, her heels clicking sharply against the floor.
Dave leaned back, exhaling slowly as the doors closed.
She's a time bomb.
The sudden ring of his phone barely stirred Dave from the rest his body was giving on the elevator. He sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose before glancing at the caller ID. James.
Reluctantly, he answered. "What?"
James' voice came through in a sing-song tone. "Code Five Hundred."
Dave groaned, already exhausted. "What the hell is Code Five Hundred?"
James chuckled. "You'd know if you actually read the short black book of codes I gave you."
Dave rolled his eyes. "James, you come up with a new code every other day. That stupid book is probably bigger than the Bible at this point. Just tell me what it means."
James sighed dramatically. "Fine. Your mom is at the hospital."
Dave shot up from his chair, panic creeping into his voice. "What? Is she okay?"
James paused for effect before continuing smugly, "Oh, she's more than fine. She's currently interviewing the nurses, asking if they're single and ready to mingle with you, her beloved son."
Dave nearly threw his phone. "James!"
A deep, amused chuckle came from the other end. "What? I thought you'd appreciate the heads-up. You're welcome, by the way."
Without another word, Dave hung up. Muttering a string of curses under his breath, he grabbed his keys and stormed out of his office. He already knew what his mother was up to, and that was exactly why he needed to get there, before she caused any more damage.
Dave was barely out of the parking lot when it happened.
The sickening sound of metal against metal jolted through the air as his car lurched backward into another.
He slammed on the brakes, cursing under his breath.
Then came the voice.
"You again?!"
Dave didn't even have to look to know who it was.
Stepping out of his car, he turned to face June, who stood in front of her dented vehicle, her arms raised in absolute horror.
Her voice climbed an octave. "My beautiful baby! What have you done?!"
Dave exhaled, already feeling a headache coming on. "Look, I'm really sorry, but can we—"
"You monster!" June stormed forward, inspecting the damage like a forensic investigator. Her hands hovered over the dent, her expression devastated. "She's hurt! My poor baby is hurt!"
Dave ran a hand down his face. "It's just a car."
Her eyes snapped up, blazing with fury. "Just a car?!"
He realized his mistake instantly.
June huffed, stepping in front of him as he tried to move toward his door. "Oh no, Mr. Wreck-It Ralph. You're not going anywhere."
Dave sighed. "June, I really don't have time for this. How about I just pay for the damages? Cash or transfer?"
Her lips curled into a knowing smirk. "Both."
His brows shot up. "Excuse me?"
"You heard me. Transfer the money for my car repairs, and hand me cash for the cupcakes you destroyed."
Dave blinked. "What cupcakes?"
"The one you refute to save that day, they cost me a lot"
An exhaustive sigh is heard in his breathe as he rolls his eyes at the woman in-front of him. There has to be great nerves in her to request pay for cupcakes he had nothing to do with, well he did but still, he was saving her.
She really is some piece of work and right now, all he wants is to get rid of her.
"Those. Premium. Cupcakes." Her hand stretched out as she talked her way around his tensed body that wanted out of where he was. "Give me the money and I'll be out of your sight"
Dave inhaled sharply, debating whether to argue, but one look at her smug expression and he knew she was ready for battle.
He slapped cash into her palm and pulled out his phone. "What's your account number?"
Her grin widened. "Good boy."
As soon as she was off his shoulders, Dave pushed open the hospital doors after a quick drive to the hospital. On first entrance, his gaze sweeping the waiting area until it landed on her.
His mother.
Seated like royalty, sipping tea, with three nurses in front of her, clearly victims of an ongoing interrogation.
Dave took a deep breath and walked up to them. "Mom."
She turned to him, her face lighting up with feigned innocence. "Oh, hello there, darling! Took you long enough."
Dave crossed his arms. "What are you doing here?"
She gestured gracefully to the nurses. "Making connections, of course. You know, back in my day, men would seek out beautiful, respectable women. But since my son refuses to lift a finger, I thought I'd help."
The nurses exchanged awkward glances.
Dave sighed. "Mom, you should've just called if you needed something."
His mother's expression turned unimpressed. "Oh? Call? You mean those calls you never pick up?"
Dave hesitated. "I've been busy."
She scoffed. "Busy avoiding me, you mean."
One of the nurses quickly excused herself, clearly sensing the tension. The others followed, leaving Dave alone with his mother.
He motioned for her to follow him into his office. "Come on, let's talk in private."
Once inside, his mother took a seat, smoothing her dress as she studied him. Then, with a sigh, she said, "David, I'm worried about you."
Dave leaned against his desk. "Mom, I'm fine."
She shook her head. "No, you're not. You work too much, you barely sleep, and worst of all, you're alone."
Dave exhaled, already knowing where this was going.
"Mom"
"I let you choose your own path." Her voice softened. "When you turned down the family business, I supported you, even though it broke my heart. I thought, 'He's smart. He's capable. He'll find his own happiness.' But here we are, and I don't see that happiness, Dave. I see a man drowning in work with no one to share his life with."
Dave looked away.
She reached for his hand, squeezing it gently. "I won't be here forever. I just want to know you'll have someone by your side when I'm gone."
The words hit harder than he expected.
For years, his mother had been relentless about marriage and grandchildren, but now, sitting across from her, he saw something deeper—loneliness.
She had him, yes, but what else? His father had passed, and she had no husband, no siblings, no close friends.
He rubbed his temple. "Mom… it's not that easy."
She gave him a knowing smile. "It's never easy, son. But love is worth the trouble."
Dave sighed. "Can we not do this today?"
She patted his cheek, standing up. "Fine. But don't think I'm giving up. Because, my dear son, your wife-hunting season has officially begun."
Dave groaned.
….
The evening air was thick with tension as June sat before the camera, her heart hammering in her chest. The ring light bathed her face in a soft glow, but no amount of good lighting could mask the weight pressing down on her. She had one shot at this.
The live counter ticked up—thousands tuning in, waiting, some with sympathy, others armed with judgment. She inhaled deeply, then forced a smile, despite the lump in her throat.
"I've wronged you all."
The words felt heavier than she expected.
Her gaze dropped for a second before she looked straight into the camera, willing herself to keep composed. "I should have been honest from the start. The truth is… when it comes to my own relationships, I lack experience."
A sharp sting burned behind her eyes, and before she could stop it, a single tear slipped down her cheek. She wiped it away quickly, determined not to look weak.
"I'm not perfect. Just like you, I get mad. I say things I don't mean. I act stupid, messy, reckless. That video you saw, where I said I don't believe in love?" She paused, pressing her lips together. "Maybe that's true."
The chat exploded with messages.
"Here we go again."
"At least she's admitting it."
"So she really doesn't believe in love??"
"And yet she runs a love show?!"
June swallowed the knot in her throat, pushing forward.
"I might not believe in love… but I want to." Her voice softened, almost pleading. "I want to learn. I want to understand love. I want to experience it."
She let out a quiet, shaky laugh. "It wasn't fair of me to call people who believe in love stupid. I was hurt. I was angry after my breakup, and I lashed out. But that doesn't excuse my actions."
Her fingers gripped the table edge as she leaned slightly forward. "You—my audience—my dearest family. Your trust is what keeps me going. Without it, I have nothing."
For a second, the chat was silent. Then the floodgates opened.
"I think she's acting again."
"Well… she's not wrong, we all say dumb stuff when we're hurt."
"She should've just told the truth from the beginning."
"Maybe we should give her another chance?"
"Second chance to lie to us again?"
"How can she run a matchmaking show when she doesn't even believe in love?"
June exhaled slowly, reading through the comments. Some were forgiving. Some were still furious. She knew winning them over wouldn't be easy, but she had hope—until she saw one comment that made her stomach drop.
"I'll forgive her… if she finds true love."
June blinked. What?
Then another comment.
"Yeah! If she really wants to learn about love, she should fall in love for real."
"Majority vote: June finds a real relationship, THEN we trust her again."
Her entire body froze.
What the hell?!
She had planned for anger. She had planned for criticism. But this? This wasn't part of the deal!
Her mind raced. Where the hell was she supposed to find a man? That too, true love?
Her fingers twitched near the keyboard, tempted to shut off the stream, but that would be even worse. She needed a way out, a loophole-something.
But the chat had decided.
Her career. Her reputation. Her entire show now depended on one thing.
June had to fall in love.
Or at least… make them believe she did.