WHAT? I THOUGHT THAT WAS A COOL THING TO SAY?

It had been about four months since Liv and Dominik were paired up for their carefully crafted plan to get revenge on Rhea Ripley—the person who had hurt them both more than anyone else ever had. The idea was risky, but they’d decided that pretending to be lovers would give them the best chance to manipulate her. It was a game of deception and mind games, with every interaction carefully staged.

Finn, ever the skeptic, had voiced his doubts when they first pitched the plan. “This could end up being a bad decision," he’d warned, watching them with narrowed eyes. But even he couldn’t deny the undeniable spark between Liv and Dominik. Their chemistry was palpable—so much so that even the lines between reality and pretense had begun to blur.

In the beginning, Liv had told herself it was all part of the act. She practiced her smiles, her laughs, and the way she let Dominik's hand linger on her waist. But soon, she found herself unable to control the way her heart would flutter whenever he was near. It was like a restless bird trapped inside her chest, beating faster and faster whenever he leaned in too close, whispered something in her ear, or flashed that mischievous smile of his.

Dominik had a way of looking at her that made her feel seen, truly seen. His dark eyes, deep and thoughtful, seemed to reach right into her, making her forget that it was all just a façade. When they trained together in the gym, his laughter would echo against the walls, filling the empty space between them, making her feel lighter than she had in years. She couldn’t quite place the feeling—nervousness or joy, perhaps a tangled mix of both—but it left her breathless all the same.

She told herself it was the thrill of the plan, the rush of adrenaline as they plotted Rhea’s downfall together. But late at night, when she replayed the moments they’d shared, she couldn't ignore how Dominik made her feel. He was the first thought that crossed her mind when she woke up, and the reason she looked forward to going to work every morning. His presence had become like the sun in her life, a warmth that she craved without understanding why.

And she hated how easy it had become to care for him. It made everything feel messier, more real, and more dangerous. Yet, there was a part of her that didn’t mind the risk—that loved how she could be herself around him, without needing to pretend. Sometimes she wondered if he felt it too, in the way his gaze lingered a little too long when he thought she wasn’t looking, or in the way his touch seemed to soften when their eyes met.

But the plan was still the plan. It was a mission they couldn’t afford to fail, a game they couldn’t let slip through their fingers. They both knew it, and yet, somewhere along the way, they had become more than just co-conspirators. They had become something else, something unspoken. And in the quiet moments between plotting revenge and keeping up appearances, Liv found herself wishing, for just a second, that this was real.

But Liv always kept those feelings buried deep inside her, locking them away like a secret she didn't dare speak. Every time she caught herself lingering on the way Dominik's smile made her feel or the warmth of his touch, she quickly shoved those thoughts aside, afraid of what might happen if she let them show. After all, unrequited love had been a painful companion before—its sting still fresh in her memory. She couldn't bear to go through it again. So, she built walls around her heart, hoping that maybe, if she acted convincingly enough, no one would notice the cracks forming beneath the surface.

One afternoon, when the two of them had taken a break from their endless planning, Finn cornered her in the hallway, his expression unreadable. “Liv, you’ve been different lately. What’s going on with you and Dominik?” His voice was low, curious, and she felt her pulse quicken, panic threatening to bubble over.

She forced a smile, though it didn’t quite reach her eyes, and shrugged as casually as she could manage. “Nothing, Finn. We’re just doing what we planned—keeping up appearances, that’s all.” She hoped he couldn’t hear the tremor in her voice or see the way her fingers fidgeted nervously with the hem of her shirt. Finn studied her for a moment longer, his brow furrowed as if he might press further, but eventually, he let it drop, leaving Liv with a sinking feeling in her chest.

But as the weeks turned into months, hiding her feelings became an impossible task. The love she felt for Dominik seemed to swell with every passing day, growing like a relentless tide that refused to be contained. It washed over her in waves—when he laughed, when he looked at her like she was the only person in the room, when he held her close in those moments they pretended to be a couple. She told herself it was all an act, but each touch, each glance, made her wish it could be real. And she was drowning in it, pulled deeper into the currents of her own emotions.

She thought she could keep it hidden, but the more she tried to hold it back, the more obvious it seemed to become. Her cheeks would flush when he leaned in too close, her voice would waver when he teased her, and she found herself looking at him with a softness that she could no longer disguise. Even Finn had started to notice the way her eyes seemed to follow Dominik across the room, like a moth drawn helplessly to a flame.

Liv knew it was only a matter of time before Dominik realized too. The thought sent a chill of fear through her—a fear that he might look at her with pity, that he might pull away, leaving her heart exposed and aching. But even that fear couldn’t quiet the way her chest fluttered every time he touched her arm or gave her one of those smiles that seemed meant just for her.

She tried to avoid being alone with him, knowing that the closer they got, the more her resolve would crumble. But their plan kept pulling them back together, and each moment they spent alone became another crack in the armor she had tried so hard to maintain. Every word, every touch, was an unspoken promise that she longed to believe in.

Yet, every night when she was alone with her thoughts, she couldn’t help but imagine what it would be like to let herself fall completely—to tell Dominik everything, to risk her heart again. It was a dream she didn’t dare chase, but it haunted her nonetheless, creeping into her thoughts until it was all she could see when she closed her eyes.

And in those quiet moments, she knew that she couldn’t keep this secret forever. One day, it would spill out, whether she wanted it to or not. The truth, like her feelings, had grown too big to stay hidden. And when that day came, she would have to face whatever came next—whether it was heartbreak or something she never dared to hope for.

One night, after wrapping up a segment with Rhea, Liv and Dominik finally had a moment to breathe. The whole thing had gone off without a hitch—Rhea’s expression during their act was priceless, her jealousy and frustration almost palpable. It was clear that she had no idea they were faking it. She still had feelings for Dominik, and seeing him with Liv had gotten under her skin in exactly the way they’d hoped.

Exhausted but pleased, the two of them found themselves sprawled on the couch in The Judgment Day's locker room. Liv’s head rested against Dominik’s shoulder, while his arm draped lazily around her. They both let out tired laughs, their bodies warm from the adrenaline of the successful segment.

“That was so much fun,” Dominik said, a tired grin spreading across his face.

Liv couldn’t help but smile as she nodded, her eyes sparkling with amusement. “The look on her face was amazing,” she replied, recalling Rhea's reaction with a laugh that bubbled up despite her exhaustion.

Dominik chuckled softly, shaking his head. “Can’t believe our acting is this good.”

But something about that word—Acting—landed heavily in Liv’s chest. The sound of it echoed in her mind, bouncing off the walls she’d tried so hard to build. Acting. It hit her like a splash of cold water, pulling her back to the reality she had been trying so hard to ignore. It was all pretend. Everything—the lingering touches, the closeness, the way he’d look at her—was just part of the game. And in that moment, she felt the ache she’d been hiding come rushing to the surface, sharp and undeniable.

Her smile faltered, and before she could stop herself, she shifted her head from his shoulder. The warmth of his body that had been so comforting just a moment ago now felt like a painful reminder of how close he was, yet how far away. Silence settled between them like a thick fog, her heart feeling heavier with each passing second.

Dominik noticed the shift immediately, turning his head to look at her with a puzzled expression. “What’s up? You went quiet all of a sudden,” he asked, his brows furrowed with genuine concern.

Liv’s chest tightened, and she swallowed hard, knowing that what she was about to say would change everything between them. She could hear her own heartbeat, loud and frantic in her ears, and she knew she should laugh it off, brush away the question that was on the tip of her tongue. But the weight of the unspoken truth was too much, and she couldn’t hold it back any longer. Her lips parted, and the words came out before she could think twice. “Just acting, right?” she asked, her voice barely above a whisper, but the vulnerability in it was impossible to miss.

Dominik’s eyebrows furrowed deeper, confusion flashing across his face as he studied her. For a moment, he looked as if he might say something lighthearted, a joke to keep the mood easy, but he caught the serious look in her eyes. He turned fully toward her, his arm slipping from around her shoulders. “Yeah, what else would it be, Liv?” he asked, his voice a bit softer now, but there was a tension there, as if he was trying to figure out what she was really asking. His eyes searched her face, trying to read the emotions she couldn’t quite hide.

Liv felt a painful twist in her chest at his words, and she forced herself to meet his gaze even though it hurt. She could see the confusion in his eyes, the way he was trying to understand what she meant, but she knew that to him, it was simple. It was all part of the plan, a role they played to get under Rhea’s skin. But for her, it had become so much more, and now she was stuck between the fear of losing what little she had with him and the unbearable ache of pretending she felt nothing at all.

She could already feel the regret pooling in her stomach, knowing that she had opened a door she couldn’t close. Her heart was racing, and she struggled to keep her voice steady, even as she forced a small, wavering smile onto her face. “Yeah,” she replied, but the word came out broken, barely more than a breath. Her gaze dropped to the space between them, where her hand rested inches from his, wishing for a moment that she could take it all back.

But the truth was out there now, hanging in the air between them like a thread waiting to snap, and all she could do was brace herself for whatever came next.

Dominik could sense that something wasn’t right. There was a tension in the air, the kind that made his chest feel tight, and he could see the way Liv was shrinking into herself, her shoulders tense. He was about to ask her what was wrong, to press her on the sudden shift in her mood, but before he could even get a word out, she spoke. Her voice was small, barely more than a whisper, and it made his breath catch.

Liv’s eyes were fixed downward, staring at her shoes—those matching sneakers he’d gotten for both of them as a joke, a little reminder of their act. But now, they felt like something more, a symbol of all the time they had spent together. The lump in her throat grew, and she could feel the burn of regret spreading through her chest, making it hard to breathe. She knew she was about to cross a line, one she couldn’t uncross, but the question tumbled out of her mouth before she could stop it.

“You’ve never felt anything for me during these months?” Her voice trembled as she spoke, the vulnerability bleeding into every word.

Dominik’s eyes widened, her question catching him completely off guard. Was she really asking what he thought she was? His heart skipped a beat, and for a moment, he couldn’t find the words. He ran a hand through his hair, letting out a soft sigh, his mind racing. He needed to be careful here, to understand exactly what she meant before he answered. He couldn’t afford to misread this moment.

“In what way, Liv?” he asked, his voice low and careful, almost afraid of the answer. He studied her face, trying to find the truth hidden in her downcast eyes. He wanted her to say it—wanted to hear the words clear and direct—so that there would be no room for misunderstanding.

Liv’s teeth dug into her bottom lip, holding back the emotions that threatened to spill over. She could feel her hands trembling in her lap, and every instinct in her screamed at her to take it all back, to laugh it off and pretend she hadn’t meant a thing. But her heart was speaking for her now, louder than the voice in her head that urged her to keep quiet. And so, she let the words slip past her lips, hating how vulnerable they made her feel.

“Romantically,” she whispered, the word feeling fragile in the space between them. “Have you ever liked me? Or felt any genuine spark between us, Dominik?”

The question hung in the air, raw and unguarded. She could feel the weight of it pressing down on her, could feel the tears she was fighting back stinging at the corners of her eyes. She didn’t want to ask it—didn’t want to put herself out there like this—but it was too late. The words were out, and now all she could do was brace herself for whatever answer might come.

This was a confusing situation for Dominik. He opened his mouth to respond but found that he couldn’t quite form the words. There was a lump in his throat, a tightness in his chest, and a dozen thoughts swirling through his mind. He wanted to tell Liv something that wouldn’t hurt her, something that would ease the vulnerability in her voice and the pain in her eyes. But no matter what words he thought of, none of them felt right.

He looked at her, really looked at her—at the way her eyes were glistening with unshed tears, the way her shoulders seemed to slump as if she was bracing herself for a blow. He hated that he was the one putting that look on her face. He hated that this moment, one she had clearly hoped for, was turning into something that hurt her. But he also knew he couldn’t lie to her, couldn’t make promises he wasn’t sure he could keep.

“I’m sorry, Liv,” he finally said, his voice barely more than a breath. It was the only thing he could muster, the only words that felt like they wouldn’t break him or her any more than they already were.

The silence that followed was sharp, slicing through the air between them like a knife. It was the kind of silence that held a weight to it, that pressed down on them both until it was almost suffocating. Liv’s world seemed to come crashing down all at once, those three words echoing in her mind like a bell tolling the end of something she had only just begun to hope for.

She felt her nails dig into the soft flesh of her palms, trying to ground herself against the overwhelming ache that spread through her chest. Her breath came in short, uneven gasps, as if her lungs had forgotten how to work. Her heart pounded in her chest, each beat like a sharp pain that made her feel like she might shatter into pieces right there in front of him. It felt like someone had taken a glass vase and thrown it to the ground, shattering it into a million pieces—and she was the one trying desperately to gather them all back together.

Her mind screamed at her to take it back, to laugh and say it was just a joke, just part of their little game. But the words wouldn’t come, her throat too tight, her emotions too raw. All she could do was sit there, the reality of his apology sinking into her like a cold weight.

Across from her, Dominik watched the heartbreak unfold on her face, and it cut through him like a knife. Deep down, he knew the truth: he did like her. He liked her in a way that made his chest ache when she wasn’t around, in a way that made him want to hold her a little longer when they hugged, in a way that made him feel alive when she laughed at something he said. He felt something for her that he couldn’t quite put into words—something that was warm and bright, something that made him want to believe in the possibility of a future that was more than just their game of make-believe.

But as he looked at her now, seeing the pain his answer had caused, all he could feel was the shadow of his past, dark and unyielding. The memory of his relationship with Rhea still lingered inside him like a ghost, haunting him with its bitterness and its failure. He remembered how that relationship had gone wrong, how he’d hurt and been hurt, how love had twisted into something that only left scars behind. It was a part of him he couldn’t seem to shake, no matter how much he wanted to.

He felt like he didn’t deserve Liv’s feelings, didn’t deserve the hope she’d placed in him. He felt like he would only end up hurting her, just like he’d hurt Rhea, just like he’d hurt himself. And that fear held him back, chained him to the silence between them. This confession should have made him happy—it should have been a chance for something real, something new—but instead, all he felt was the weight of his own doubts pressing down on him, keeping him from reaching out to her.

So, he stayed quiet, his hands clenching into fists at his sides, wishing he could find the courage to tell her everything he was feeling. But instead, he watched as her hope crumbled before him, and the silence between them grew colder, more painful. And as much as it tore at him, he couldn’t bring himself to break it.

Liv swallowed the lump in her throat, forcing a smile onto her lips. It was a fragile, broken thing—more a mask than a true expression. Her lips trembled as she held it in place, but it didn’t reach her eyes, which were red and glassy with the tears she refused to let fall in front of him. She slowly stood up from the couch, feeling unsteady on her feet, like the ground beneath her was shifting.

Her back was to him now, and she was grateful for that. She didn’t want him to see the tears that threatened to spill, didn’t want him to see how badly she was crumbling. She took a shaky breath, her chest tightening with every beat of her aching heart, and she forced herself to look over her shoulder, sparing him one last glance. She knew she should just leave without saying another word, but the truth—her truth—had already been spoken, and there was no taking it back now.

“I love you,” she said softly, the words breaking in the air between them like a delicate thing shattering on impact. She didn’t let herself linger on the way his expression changed—how his eyes widened, how a flash of pain crossed his face. Instead, she quickly added, “I’m sorry.” Her voice cracked, and she turned away again, before she could lose what little composure she had left.

She walked out of the locker room, her steps hurried and uneven, and as soon as she was out of sight, the tears began to flow freely, hot and unchecked down her cheeks. Her vision blurred, and she bit down on her lip to keep from sobbing, trying to quiet the noise of her heartbreak that seemed to echo in every step she took. It felt like her chest was being squeezed tight, like there wasn’t enough air in the world to fill her lungs. All she could do was keep walking, even though each step felt like she was dragging a weight behind her.

Back in the room, Dominik watched her go, her words hanging in the air like a ghost he couldn’t escape. He felt his heart twist painfully in his chest, a sharp pang of guilt cutting through him. He wanted to get up, wanted to run after her, to grab her arm and tell her not to go. He wanted to take back his silence, to tell her that maybe—just maybe—he could feel the same way if he could only let himself believe it.

But he stayed rooted in place, his hands clenched into fists, his nails digging into his palms. The guilt felt like a heavy chain wrapped around his limbs, keeping him from moving. He had already hurt her enough, and he was terrified that if he chased after her, he’d only end up breaking her heart even more. He watched the door she had left through, his throat tight and his heart aching like a wound that wouldn’t heal.

Who knew that one confession could leave two hearts broken? The words she had spoken played over and over in his mind—I love you, I’m sorry—and he could hear the pain in them, the same pain he felt deep inside. It should have been a moment of clarity, a chance to bridge the gap between them, but instead, it had left them both more shattered than before.

Dominik sat there in the silence, feeling the weight of his own regret settle around him like a cold fog, knowing that he had let something precious slip through his fingers. And even though he could feel his heart begging him to make it right, he couldn’t bring himself to move. He just sat there, letting the silence stretch on, while the ache of what he hadn’t said tore at him from the inside.