When I arrived at the café, Victor was already there, sitting at a corner table with a smug look on his face. I forced a smile as I joined him, suppressing the guilt gnawing at my insides. We ordered drinks, and as we chatted, I kept glancing at the door, anxiously awaiting Melissa’s arrival.

Fifteen minutes in, my phone buzzed with a message from Melissa: “Running late, be there in 10.” My heart pounded. Everything was in place. I just needed to keep up the charade a little longer.

As Victor leaned in, recounting some mundane story about a recent trip, I noticed how easily he could weave lies to suit his narrative. It made me realize that my plan, although well-intentioned, was built on shaky ground. What if this blew up in my face?