My Fake Date Brought a Translator

How it begins

Mira had given Jonas three facts about their imaginary relationship. Her aunt asked a fourth question before he finished taking off his coat.

He answered in French.

Mira's aunt answered in French.

Mira, who did not speak French, watched both of them smile.

This was how a simple plan became an international incident.

Jonas took his place beside her at the reception table. He had remembered the blue tie, the harmless story about meeting on a walking tour and the agreement that neither would announce anything permanent.

“What did you tell her?” Mira whispered.

“That I was pleased to meet her.”

“And the rest?”

“That the food smelled good.”

“There was quite a lot of rest.”

He looked toward her aunt.

“Apparently the onions require a family explanation.”

Across the room, Mira's cousin signed a greeting. Mira answered, then introduced Jonas properly. No invented history, no elaborate proof. Just his name, his work and the fact that he had agreed to keep her company through dinner.

The simplicity felt unexpectedly pleasant.

For years, every family event had included a gentle inquiry into whether she was happy. The question usually arrived carrying a proposed solution. A neighbor's son. A colleague's nephew. A person described as very reliable, as though she needed a washing machine.

Jonas asked where she wanted to sit.

Not where the family had placed her. Where she wanted to sit.

She pointed toward the window.

They moved two chairs with the organizer's permission and found a place with a clear view of the speeches. Jonas checked that the flowers did not block her cousin's sightline.

Mira looked at him.

He shrugged.

“You showed me.”

At the microphone, the best man began an announcement about the happy couples in the room.

Mira's aunt turned toward them.

For the first time, Mira was less worried about what Jonas might invent than how much she wanted him to stay after the invention ended.