The Best We Could Do

Maria Walker has spent her entire life under the weight of expectations in a world where reputation trumps happiness. As the daughter of the respected Walker family, every choice—including her relationship with kind, loyal Noah Bennett—is judged by high society, who see him as far beneath her standing. Daniel Rothfield faces a different pressure. The powerful, emotionally guarded CEO of Rothfield Holdings has avoided relationships since a devastating breakup left him unwilling to risk love again. Yet his parents and business partners insist a man of his status needs to project stability—and a serious relationship is the perfect image. When Maria and Daniel unexpectedly arrive together at a prestigious charity auction, a fleeting moment ignites rampant speculation. Within hours, social media explodes with rumors that the billionaire CEO and the Walker heiress are secretly dating. Rather than deny it, Daniel proposes a solution: pretend the rumors are true. A fake relationship solves both dilemmas. Maria’s parents would stop pressuring her about Noah, while Daniel’s family and associates would see him finally settling down. It’s meant to be simple, temporary, and strictly controlled. Rules are set: No real feelings. No crossing boundaries. No forgetting it’s just an act. But pretending to be in love proves far more complicated than planned. As they appear together at events, family gatherings, and public functions, undeniable chemistry emerges—shifting from performance to something dangerously authentic. Meanwhile, Noah grapples with quiet jealousy fueled by headlines and photos, Daniel’s past resurfaces to threaten the facade, and their carefully built lie begins to crumble. In a society that measures love by status and appearances, Maria and Daniel face an undeniable truth: the relationship they pretended to have may be the most real thing either of them has ever felt.

I was adopted. They were so good to me that every night before I fell asleep, I prayed to grow up healthy and happy in this home. Then Mom got pregnant. I hid under my covers and cried all night, quietly packing the little suitcase I had arrived with. But they didn't send me away. They loved me even more. The day my brother was born, Mom took my hand and gently stroked my head. "Having an older sister," she said, "is why we have a younger brother." Dad lifted me above his head and spun me around laughing. "Lily is our family's lucky star — our most beloved baby!" I finally stopped dreading every single day. I thought I had truly become part of this family. Then my brother snapped my favorite Barbie in half. I pushed him. He stumbled, sat on the floor, stared for two seconds, and burst into tears. Mom panicked, shoved me aside, and pulled him into her arms, asking over and over if he was hurt. Dad came running. He grabbed my shoulders and slammed me against the wall, eyes blazing. "Is this what I raised you all these years for — to bully your brother? Believe me when I say I will send you straight back to—"

Mom had one rule, and she never let it go: one good deed a day. When I was little, I saved my allowance for an entire year to buy a doll. Then some girl beside me whispered that she wanted one too, and Mom ripped it out of my arms. "Do one good deed a day. Give her the doll." Later, I barely made it into the best high school in the county. I didn't even get to be happy before Mom told me she'd already signed me up for trade school. "Do one good deed a day. The girl who just missed the cutoff is poor. Give her your spot." Later, at trade school, my roommates stole every cent I had for food and rent. I called Mom, sobbing. "Do one good deed every day. Giving them your money still counts as doing something good." Later, I got a part-time job and ended up sold as a bride to some family way out in the sticks. I texted Mom, begging her to save me. Her reply popped up a second later. [Marriage means sticking it out. Give them a healthy baby boy, and that should cover ten years of good deeds.]

I’d been married to my husband James for three years. On Valentine’s Day, he gave his stepsister, Mia, one hundred and eighty thousand dollars, along with millions in jewelry. I, on the other hand, received a free bouquet of roses. When I didn’t look thrilled, he accused me of being a gold digger. “Mia never had anyone to care for her growing up. Why are you competing with her? Isn’t being Mrs. Smith enough to feed your vanity?” Furious, I stormed out of the house. When a car lost control and came barreling toward me, he instinctively rushed to protect Mia, who was standing a full ten feet from the road. I was the one who ended up in the hospital. Lying in that bed, I finally gave up. I signed the divorce papers without hesitation. “Giving up the title of Mrs. Smith is the dumbest decision you’ll ever make,” he told me, looking down at me from above before walking away. Seven years later, we met again. He took one glance at my simple dress and laughed out loud. I didn’t bother to respond. I just held my daughter close and waited for her father—the richest man in the city—to arrive.

Five years ago, Samantha Manning was seven months pregnant when her husband Channing Lane's first love, Sydney Ingram, caused her to lose the baby. But what hurt most was what Channing said to her. "Syd didn't mean it. She can't go to prison." He signed a letter of forgiveness in Samantha's name regardless of her wishes. Five years later, Sydney returned from studying abroad. Harold Lane, the son Samantha had adopted, said to her, "You're a bad woman! You're always picking on Sydney!" Only then did Samantha finally understand that there had never been a place for her in that family. Furious, Samantha fought back. She took back everything she had lost and took back the love she had given Channing for eight years. As Channing and Sydney walked step by step toward their fitting end, Samantha turned around and married the powerful man who had always protected her. When Sydney's true nature was finally exposed, Channing begged and cried for Samantha to take him back. "Sam, it was all my fault! I didn't cherish you! Please forgive me and come back to me!" Samantha smiled faintly and stroked her slightly rounded belly. A new life was forming inside of her womb. The man who truly loved her had always been by her side.

I was born just one minute after Tiara, but the world treated that one minute as if it lasted a lifetime. She was the star. I was the shadow. She was flawless. I was the afterthought. She was loved. I was forgotten. Even by Reagan de Russo, heir to the wealthiest family in the country and the man I had secretly loved for the past ten years. But to him, there was only Tiara. And when he proposed to her, I knew my quiet little dream had finally died. Until that day came. The day Tiara left him at the altar. The day the world stopped turning for just a second. The day the man who had never even glanced my way, turned to me and asked me to take her place. I knew what I was. An escape. A damage control. A backup plan. And I... I was too tired of being strong. So I said yes. We married. Without love. Without a future. Just a one-year contract and a life of make-believe in front of flashing cameras and watching eyes. But the longer I stayed by his side, the harder it became to tell what was real and what was just part of the performance. Because for the first time... Reagan saw me. But can love truly grow from the ruins of lies, old wounds, and the shadow of a woman who’s always been his first choice? Or will I always be… only the second best?