"You are Impossible, June."
"How the hell are you planning to find true love in such a short time?" Dora nearly screamed, waving her hands in frustration. But June didn't even flinch. Instead, she tapped her fingers against the counter, lost in thought, her lips curling into a small smile.
Dora narrowed her eyes. "Oh no… What now? Have you cooked up another one of your dramas?"
"Not quite," June replied, tilting her head. "Knowing myself, I'd say it's impossible to find true love."
Dora exhaled in relief only for that relief to be snatched away by the plain smile and the telltale twitch in June's eye.
"June…"
"In my defense," June continued, completely ignoring the warning in Dora's voice, "I can't find true love. But I can find a fake true love."
Dora groaned, rubbing her temples. "You are impossible. You just got caught in one lie, and now you're going to start another?"
"It's show business. These things happen," June said, snapping her fingers like she had just solved the world's problems.
Before Dora could launch into a lecture, the door swung open. "I'm home," Jane announced as she slipped off her shoes and flopped onto the sofa, resting her head on June's lap.
"I hated work without you there," Jane sighed, stretching her back. "Linda's tantrums have gone to max Z."
That earned a knowing look from June. She already knew Linda had been on edge—ever since her daughter left. But what had shattered Linda wasn't just the departure; it was the fact that her ex-husband's new girlfriend had somehow won over her daughter's heart. A heart Linda had spent years trying to hold onto.
"So, what were you two talking about?" Jane asked, glancing between them.
Dora shot June a pointed look before answering, "Your girl here is planning something ridiculous again."
"I'm not," June huffed, crossing her arms.
"June." Jane's stare was hard, almost scolding.
"Don't give me those eyes! I haven't even done anything yet," June rushed to defend herself, throwing her hands up.
Jane just sighed. "Anyway, Linda had the HR team investigate the video leak. We'll know soon who was behind it." She disappeared into her room, too exhausted to stay up for June's inevitable antics.
Dora stood, slinging her bag over her shoulder. "Don't you dare do anything stupid," she warned, pointing an accusatory finger at June.
"Me?" June gasped, placing a hand on her chest like she was offended.
"I mean it."
"I don't know what you're talking about," June sang, waving her off.
Dora glared but gave up, adjusting the book in her hand. "I'm off to the bookstore."
June grinned, her eyes twinkling with mischief. "Right. The bookstore."
Dora groaned. "Shut up."
"Say hi to Edward for me!"
Dora's fingers tightened around the book. She could have gotten mad, but she knew June was just teasing. Still, it wasn't like she could deny it—her visits to the bookstore had become suspiciously frequent. And Edward? Well, she didn't say much about him, but he got her. He understood her love for books, for stories, for dreams.
"He might not be a business tycoon like my parents want," Dora muttered under her breath, exhaling as she stepped outside, "but he's the tycoon of my heart."
June watched her go, shaking her head with a knowing smirk. "Yeah, yeah. 'There's nothing going on between us,'" she mocked in Dora's voice, then leaned back on the couch. "I know love when I see it."
….
At another end of the city, Dave ilea's was stuck in a blind date situation his mother set.
"You're on your third date already?" James stifled a laugh as Dave sighed, adjusting his sleeves.
"If I had known my mother set up this many, I would've broken her heart again and refused," Dave muttered.
James clapped him on the back. "Well, at least you're keeping your word."
Barely.
Each date had been worse than the last. Most of the women were only interested in his family wealth. Some had absurd conditions for marriage. One demanded a new luxury phone after every date. Another wanted a seven-year child-free marriage, and after that, she would consider having kids.
He was starting to lose his patience.
"Hello, Dr. Deen, right?"
Dave looked up to see a woman standing before him, her long dark hair tied back neatly.
"I'm Violet. Your next-in-line blind date," she joked with a small smirk.
For the first time that day, Dave actually chuckled. He gestured for her to sit.
"Is this your first time blind dating?" she asked, raising a brow.
"With a mother like mine? Impossible," he replied dryly.
She laughed. "Not my first either. My mom's been pressuring me to start a family, so I finally gave in."
She was nice. Calm. Unlike the others, she didn't seem desperate or demanding.
"What do you look for in a woman?" she asked, sipping her tea.
"Decent. Not rude. Doesn't have a temper. Honest. Respects my privacy." He listed them off without much thought, until his mind flickered to June.
He frowned.
She was none of those things.
And yet…
"What about you?" he asked, shaking off the thought.
"I don't ask for much," Violet said with a small smile. "He just has to love me."
Her eyes flicked to his gloves and the way he wiped the cup before drinking.
"You allergic to dirt?" she asked curiously.
He hesitated before lying, "Just a habit."
It was their first meeting. He didn't want her to run off just yet.
"Well, this date went well," she said, pulling a card from her bag. "My friends are having a party tonight. Be my date?"
He really should have said no.
But before he could, James smirked from the other table and just like that he was set for a date and party he had no plans on showing up to.
….
June had spent the entire morning convincing herself that she could do this. She had fixed problems before this time wouldn't be any different.
Pushing through Linda's office doors, she barely waited for an invitation before speaking.
"I know you insist on me taking a break but I've got the perfect plan on getting the show back on air" June throw her words in seconds.
"Not again please," Linda fingers halted on the keyboards as she sighed her exhaustion out.
"Hear me out, I've got it all decided"
"Right, and how is that exactly?" Linda dryly asked as she resumed her eyes at the screen.
"Have me find a new love"
"Meaning?" A blank stare is given to June
"Didn't you watch my live stream?"
"Do you think a busy person like me has time to watch your livestream?" Linda asked, barely looking up from the screen.
June leaned against the desk, unfazed. " well had you watched it you would know I have a greater chance of saving the show by finding a boyfriend and proof I can love as well"
"Do you really think that's going to work?" Linda eyes looked at June's unfazed face for a moment and right there, she knew she met business but wasn't certain her will was enough to bring the dead show back to live.
"You know me, Linda. When I set my mind on something, I go all out. I'm not giving up on my show—I worked my ass off to get it where it is."
Linda finally looked up, unimpressed. "And you also set it on fire."
"Yes, but I'm fixing it." June met Linda's sharp gaze head-on. "I'm owning up to my mistakes."
Linda exhaled, her expression unreadable. "Samantha is young and talented. Trust me, you'll get along just fine."
June's body tensed at the name.
Get along? With her?
Sharing the show was already out of the question, but working with Samantha? Seeing her face every day? Everything about her—the way she smiled, the way she carried herself—was a cruel copy of the woman who had haunted June for years.
A copy that stole everything from her.
"I don't need her to run my show. I can do just fine without her so-called young talent," June protested, her voice firm.
Linda leaned back, studying her. "How about this—meet her once. Just one conversation. If you still find it hard to work with her, we'll find you a new show to run."
"And let her take over mine?" June's nails dug into her palm. "No."
She held Linda's stare, her voice unwavering. "If anyone leaves, it'll be her. Bring Love to Life is my show."
For a moment, Linda said nothing. But there was something in her eyes—respect.
Not many people knew what it took for Linda to reach the top. She had clawed her way up, starting as a low-ranking reporter, enduring years of setbacks, swallowing her pride. And she had made mistakes—ones she wished she could erase from history.
She saw that same fire in June now.
"Fine," Linda finally said. "You have a week. Boost the show's rankings, and it's yours again."
Relief rushed through June's chest, but she didn't let it show. Not yet.
Linda turned back to her desk. "Until then, can I have my office to myself?"
The silver lining was thin, barely there, but June took it.
Stepping out, she let out a slow breath. The show was still hers, well, at least for a week.
She ruffled the hem of her dress, already running through ideas in her head, when her feet suddenly halted.
Her gaze locked on the man standing just outside the doors.
Her breath caught.
Dad.
A whisper escaped her lips, barely audible.
It had been years, yet his face was the same—only now, a white beard framed his chin and jawline. His eyes still held that calmness she remembered, the same gentle presence that had once been her world.
Was he here to fix things? To tell her he missed her? That he regretted everything and wanted her back?
Her heart pounded in her ears.
She took a shaky step forward.
Her mind flooded with old memories, his warm hands ruffling her hair when she was little, his soothing voice whenever she cried. Would he hold her now, like he used to?
He was walking toward her.
She moved faster, arms reaching…,
Only for him to walk right past her.
Straight to the girl behind her.
June's feet froze.
She turned, slow, her stomach twisting into knots.
And then she saw it.
His arms wrapping around her.
Samantha.
His voice softened, full of warmth. "My beautiful darling daughter."
Samantha laughed, beaming up at him. "Dad!"
June stood there, her arms dropping uselessly by her sides, watching the scene unfold.
He pulled at Samantha's nose playfully. "I wanted to surprise you."
June felt something crack inside her.
Her father, her father, stood inches away. Yet he hadn't even seen her. Hadn't recognized her. Hadn't so much as glanced in her direction.
And once again, he had chosen Samantha.
Her hand trembled as she wiped the first tear before it could fall.
She had imagined this moment for years. Hoped that, when they met again, he would look at her like he used to. That he would pull her into his arms and tell her he was sorry.
But this?
This was worse than being abandoned.
This was being invisible.
She forced her feet to move, her legs stiff as she pushed toward her car.
Shutting the door behind her, she let out a shaky breath and dropped her head against the steering wheel.
Tears fell freely now, no longer held back.
"Why?" Her voice cracked, barely above a whisper. "Why did you have to hurt me again?"
Her body trembled.
"You couldn't even recognize me."
Her fingers gripped the steering wheel tight, trying to stop the sob from escaping.
"Again, you chose her over me."
The pain settled deep, heavy, suffocating.
She had lost to Samantha once.
She wouldn't lose again.
….
And just like that, night was upon them and Dave was at the doors of the venue set to have the friendly party.
"You look good."
Lizzy's voice held a trace of admiration as she adjusted the sleeve of Dave's suit, her fingers lingering just a second too long on his wrist. The tailored fabric aligned perfectly with her own elegant dress, making them look effortlessly coordinated.
Dave, however, only shifted under her touch, clearly uncomfortable.
"Thank you for coming," she added, offering a charming smile, though she knew full well who to thank, James. He had practically forced Dave into this, going as far as preparing the suit himself after shutting down every excuse Dave had thrown his way.
"Shall we?" Lizzy asked, linking arms with him as they stepped into the grand ballroom.
The atmosphere was far from what Dave had expected. Lizzy had mentioned a casual gathering, yet the room dripped with elegance, gowns that shimmered under the soft glow of chandeliers, masks concealing half-smiles, wine glasses clicking together in whispered conversations, and couples twirling across the dance floor.
"Hi! Wow! Your date?" A voice interrupted their entrance.
A woman approached, fingers toying with the stem of her wine glass, her eyes gliding over Dave with open interest.
"He's hot," she remarked before taking a sip, savoring the wine's sharpness before gulping it down. Her gaze didn't waver from Dave, locked onto him as though she had already claimed him in her mind.
"Dave, meet Terrisa." Lizzy gestured between them. "Dr. Dave Deen, a psychiatrist."
Terrisa extended a hand for a handshake, only to freeze mid-air when Dave didn't acknowledge it.
An awkward beat followed.
"My apologies," Lizzy interjected smoothly. "He's not much for contact."
Terrisa withdrew her hand with a tight smile. "He has a… unique style, that's for sure."
The tension should have faded, but it only thickened when a low, husky voice broke through the chatter.
"I see you brought my replacement."
The words sent a ripple of discomfort through the group.
A tall man with a glass of wine in hand approached, his smirk laced with concealed hostility.
Lizzy stiffened. "What do you want?"
"Nothing much. Just wanted to see who you're using to fill my shoes." The man, Sheriff, tilted his glass lazily. "Not bad, but those glasses make him look old and out of style."
Dave remained expressionless, but his gaze flicked over the man's shifting stance.
"Your legs keep moving," Dave observed casually, making Sheriff freeze.
"What?"
"It's a habit, isn't it?" Dave continued, voice calm but cutting. "Constantly shifting, unable to stand still—it screams insecurity. You think taunting me makes you appear intimidating, but in reality, you're just trying to cover up your own lack of confidence."
Sheriff's jaw clenched, his fingers curling around his glass. "Who the hell do you think you are?"
"Dr. Dave Deen," Dave replied with the same level tone. "A psychiatrist. And a specialist in anger management."
Sheriff's posture stiffened instantly, his knuckles whitening around the stem of his glass.
Smirking, Dave tilted his head. "It's working, isn't it?"
"What?"
"The jealousy act."
Sheriff's lips parted, but no words came out.
"You're clearly affected." Dave gestured to his tensed shoulders. "The way your hands are shaking? The way your breathing changed? You don't just want her back, you need to prove something to yourself. And that," he added, stepping forward slightly, "is why you already lost."
Before Sheriff could retort, the sharp ring of Dave's phone cut through the tension.
He didn't spare another glance at anyone.
"Yeah?" he answered, then, without hesitation, turned on his heel and walked out.
"Drowning Sorrows in Whiskey and Words"
"Give me another."
The slam of June's hand against the bar made the glasses tremble.
"Ma'am, I really can't," The bartender hesitated, looking at the half-empty bottle in front of her.
For the past hour, he had endured her slurred complaints about her awful father, mixed with demands for stronger drinks. While he sympathized with her pain, he really just wanted someone, anyone, to come get her.
"I said another glass!" June's voice sharpened as she grabbed the bartender by his collar.
"Miss June."
A familiar voice cut through the chaos.
She blinked, her grip loosening.
Turning, her hazy vision settled on a figure standing at the bar's entrance.
"Are you her boyfriend?" the bartender asked hesitantly.
Dave's expression darkened.
"It doesn't matter." The bartender sighed, relieved to have an out. "You'll have to cover the damages." He slid a long receipt across the counter.
June squinted.
Then her drunken lips formed a small, disappointed pout.
"It's you…"
Dave ignored her sulking, grabbing her arm and pulling her off the barstool. Before she could protest, he snatched the empty glass from her hand.
He still wasn't sure why he had come.
The bar owner had called using June's phone, claiming she needed someone to pick her up. And for some reason, Dave hadn't even hesitated before heading straight there.
"Miss June, you're drunk. Stay still."
"I'm not drunk. You're drunk, mad man."
She pinched his cheek, giggling.
Dave stilled.
Her laughter, soft, unguarded, sent an unfamiliar warmth through him.
"You look cute this way," she murmured, fingers playing with his face.
Dave exhaled. "Let's get you home."
"I don't wanna go home," she mumbled, crossing her arms. "Home makes me sad. I'm the bad egg. No one wants me."
His chest tightened at the vulnerability in her voice.
"You're not a bad egg, June," he said, his voice softer than intended. "Out there, someone will love you for exactly who you are."
Her gaze flicked up to meet his.
For a moment, neither moved.
Then, before he could react, her hands gripped his collar, yanking him down.
Their eyes locked.
Her breath brushed his lips, heavy with whiskey and longing.
Then she leaned in.
Her lips caught his lower lip between her teeth, teasing a sharp groan from his throat.
His fingers clenched against his sides.
She shifted, capturing his upper lip this time, her breath mingling with his, warm and unsteady.
And just like that..,
She gave him the space to take control.
A slow burn, an invitation—one he didn't resist.
Dave tilted his head, his hands finding her waist as he deepened the kiss, ruling the pace now.
And for the first time that night, June let herself be held.