Marta stood by the restaurant’s door, her fingers twisting the hem of her velvet dress. Nathan stood beside her, looking calm and collected, but his gaze betrayed a flicker of anxiety. Tonight was the night his parents were finally going to meet his fiancée. And he needed it to be perfect.
“Relax,” he whispered, adjusting the collar of his suit. “You’re doing fine. Just remember, it’s all just a show.”
Marta nodded but couldn’t shake the feeling of unease. Her life had been a string of painful struggles, but this? This felt like something altogether different. The thought of walking into a room full of rich, influential people made her feel small, but she had no choice. Nathan had promised her more money than she could ever imagine, just for one night. One night to play the role of a fiancée, to pretend to be the woman that Nathan’s parents wanted to meet. And for some reason, it felt like it was her chance to escape, to breathe in a life she could never afford.
She took a deep breath and entered the restaurant. The heavy door swung open, and she was immediately enveloped in the warm glow of chandeliers and the sound of soft chatter. The waiters, dressed in black and white, moved silently through the room, serving perfectly plated dishes to the well-dressed guests.
Nathan led her to a table where his parents were already seated. His father, a tall, dignified man, gave her a polite smile but said nothing. His mother, on the other hand, stared at her with a sharpness that made Marta want to shrink into the floor.
“So, how did you meet my son?” His mother’s voice was sharp, like the edge of a knife. Marta’s heart pounded in her chest.
She glanced at Nathan, who nodded encouragingly.
“Well,” she began, her voice rough but steady. “I met Nathan by chance, on the street. I was playing my guitar, just trying to get by. And he stopped. He didn’t look away like everyone else.”
Nathan’s mother raised an eyebrow. “You’re… a street musician?”
Marta nodded. “Yes. That’s how I survive.”
The silence that followed was heavy. Marta could feel the tension thickening in the air. Nathan’s father, who had been quietly observing, finally spoke.
“And what makes you think you’re… suitable for my son?” he asked, his tone almost condescending.
Marta’s gaze flicked to Nathan. His eyes were locked on hers, a silent promise in his look. She couldn’t back down now.
“I don’t think I’m suitable,” she said, her voice steady now. “But I know that I’m real. And I know how to fight for what I have. I may not have the money or the elegance, but I have something that can’t be bought.”
Nathan’s mother’s eyes narrowed. She leaned forward, studying Marta closely. “Is that so? And what exactly is it that you think you have?”
Marta didn’t flinch. She had nothing to lose now.
“Survival,” she said. “And the ability to love without expectations. What more could anyone need?”
For a moment, the room fell silent. Nathan’s mother stared at her, as if trying to decipher a puzzle. Then, unexpectedly, she leaned back in her chair and let out a soft laugh.
“Well,” she said, looking at her husband, “it seems Nathan has finally found someone who’s as stubborn as he is.”
Nathan’s father chuckled, and Marta felt a small sense of victory.
As the evening went on, the conversation shifted to lighter topics, but Marta couldn’t shake the feeling that something had changed. She was no longer just a street musician pretending to be someone she wasn’t. For the first time in a long while, she felt seen, truly seen.
By the time they left the restaurant, Marta realized that Nathan had given her more than just money for the evening. He had given her a chance — a chance to redefine herself, to step into a world she never thought she could belong to.
But as she walked beside him through the quiet streets, a thought lingered in her mind: What if this game was more real than either of them expected?
And in that moment, she realized that the real performance had only just begun.