As the festival stretched into its final days, Linda found herself growing increasingly uneasy. What had started as a small, quiet deception-a fake engagement to appease her parents-had spiraled into something far beyond her control. Now, not only was her family deeply invested in the union, but the entire village seemed to have taken an interest as well. Everywhere she went, people congratulated her, offering blessings, advice, and unsolicited wedding plans.
Late one evening, Linda sat on the porch of her family home, the muffled sounds of the festival still audible in the distance. She rested her chin on her knees, staring out into the night, her thoughts a tangled mess. Chris found her there, his footsteps soft as he approached.
"Hey," he said, settling beside her. "You okay? You've been quiet all day."
Linda sighed, wrapping her arms around her legs. "Chris, I don't know how we let it get this far."
Chris frowned. "What do you mean?"
"This," she said, gesturing vaguely at the house, the village, the festival. "The fake engagement. It was supposed to be simple-just a little story to get my parents off my back for a while. But now... look at us. Your parents are here. My grandfather's giving you his blessing. The whole village is planning a wedding that's never going to happen."
Chris rubbed the back of his neck, clearly uncomfortable. "Yeah, it's... a lot."
"A lot?" Linda's voice rose slightly, the frustration she'd been holding back spilling out. "Chris, my dad has started talking about dowry negotiations. My mom's already picking out fabrics for the wedding party. Do you realize how impossible it's going to be to untangle all of this?"
Chris winced. "I didn't think it would get this intense. I thought your family would just... I don't know, celebrate for a bit and then move on."
"That's not how my family works," Linda said, shaking her head. "Once they commit to something, they see it through. They're all in. And now, we've dragged your parents into this mess, too."
Chris leaned back against the railing, his expression serious. "Okay. So, what do we do? Do we tell them the truth?"
Linda gave him a sharp look. "You want to tell my dad-the man who thinks you're the best thing to happen to this family-that we made all of this up?"
Chris grimaced. "When you put it like that..."
Linda buried her face in her hands. "This was supposed to make things easier, Chris. Instead, it's just made everything harder. I don't know how to fix it."
For a moment, the only sound was the distant drumming from the festival. Then Chris reached out, placing a hand on Linda's shoulder. "We'll figure it out. Together."
Linda lifted her head to look at him, her eyes searching his face for any hint of a plan. "How?"
Chris hesitated. "I don't know yet. But we can't let it keep spiraling. Maybe we ease them out of it slowly, give them time to adjust. Or... maybe we find a way to turn this into something positive."
Linda raised an eyebrow. "Positive? Chris, this isn't a rom-com. There's no happy ending where everyone magically forgives us for lying."
Chris shrugged. "You never know. Sometimes, people surprise you."
Linda sighed again, leaning back against the porch railing. "I just wish we'd been honest from the start."
Chris didn't reply immediately. When he finally spoke, his voice was soft. "Maybe. But if we had, we wouldn't have had this time together. And despite everything, I wouldn't trade that for anything."
Linda glanced at him, her heart softening despite her frustration. "You're annoyingly good at finding silver linings, you know that?"
Chris grinned. "It's a gift."
They sat in silence for a while, the weight of their situation pressing down on them. Linda knew they couldn't keep the charade going forever, but the thought of unraveling it-of breaking her family's hearts-felt just as unbearable.
"Whatever happens," Chris said eventually, "we'll handle it. Together."
Linda nodded, though her chest still felt tight with worry. "Together," she repeated, hoping the word would somehow make everything easier.
For now, it was the only thing she could cling to.