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Chapter 40: The First Crack

ผู้เขียน: Lola Quinn
last update ปรับปรุงล่าสุด: 2026-01-15 17:51:55

Lake

I woke to the soft, golden light of late morning spilling across the cabin. The beams of the old pine ceiling glowed like they were lit from inside, highlighting the grains of wood, the dust motes floating lazily through the air. The faint smell of pine mixed with coffee lingered in the corners, comforting in its way, yet paired with a subtle prickling tension in my chest I couldn’t shake.

I turned on my side and looked at Ivy. She was still curled under the duvet, her hair a chaotic halo
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  • Fake To Fall    Chapter 40: The First Crack

    LakeI woke to the soft, golden light of late morning spilling across the cabin. The beams of the old pine ceiling glowed like they were lit from inside, highlighting the grains of wood, the dust motes floating lazily through the air. The faint smell of pine mixed with coffee lingered in the corners, comforting in its way, yet paired with a subtle prickling tension in my chest I couldn’t shake.I turned on my side and looked at Ivy. She was still curled under the duvet, her hair a chaotic halo across the pillow. Even in sleep, she had this impossible presence—delicate, fragile, yet somehow untouchable. Her lips parted slightly, murmuring words I couldn’t hear, and I felt a swell of something deep and unnameable: protectiveness, affection, and something dangerously closer to love.We were married. I repeated the word in my head like a mantra, but it didn’t settle my thoughts. Married. Ivy. Us. Words that should have felt secure, final, comforting. And yet, there was a tension lurking b

  • Fake To Fall    Chapter 39: Breakfast with Secrets

    IvyThe morning air had a crisp bite that hinted winter was not far behind. I was in the kitchen, still in my wedding dress-sweatshirt hybrid—Ivy Monroe Hart, newly married, with satin still clinging to parts of me like a second skin. Lake had already disappeared downstairs, murmuring something about making breakfast, and I lingered at the top of the stairs, hesitating.Hesitating wasn’t my usual MO. I plan, I organize, I control. But mornings like this, mornings after vows and whispered promises and an almost too-perfect night, mornings where the world still felt fragile, I couldn’t summon control. Not over him, not over the cabin, not over… everything else.I took the stairs quietly, trying to gauge the mood. The kitchen smelled of coffee and something sizzling—the comforting, familiar smell that made my stomach clench for reasons that weren’t entirely hunger.Lake stood at the stove, sleeves rolled up, the dark navy suit jacket from yesterday draped over a chair. His shirt was rump

  • Fake To Fall    Chapter 38: Lake’s Unsent Message

    IvyThe morning sunlight slipped through the cabin blinds in thin, golden streaks, casting lazy shadows across the wooden floors. I had woken before Lake, as usual, and now crouched on the edge of the bed, trying to sneak a quiet moment for myself before the outside world came knocking—or before Lake decided that "morning chaos" was code for “I’m awake and I have something to say.”He wasn’t in the room yet, but his phone lay face-up on the bedside table, buzzing faintly. Notifications: emails, texts, unread messages stacked like a tiny tower of obligations he would eventually ignore. I was about to reach over and grab mine when a glimpse of his screen caught my eye.A message, half-written, still open. Sent to someone I didn’t know.Lake Hart. My husband. Typing something that wasn’t for me.My stomach knotted. I shouldn’t have looked. I really shouldn’t. But curiosity is a dangerous companion, and I’d been sneaky long enough to know exactly how it feels when someone’s heart—or at le

  • Fake To Fall    Chapter 37: The Call She Delays

    IvyThe coffee was lukewarm, the mug heavy in my hands, and the autumn light spilling through the cabin window felt almost hostile in its brightness. Not that I blamed the sun—it had no idea what kind of chaos it was illuminating.I stared at my phone on the counter.Her name flashed: Mom.I swallowed hard, fingers hovering over the green button. It buzzed again, insistent, demanding. I had known it would come. I had known that somewhere beneath the bliss of last night, beneath the warmth of Lake’s skin and the quiet hum of the forest, reality was waiting, leaning in, and ready to lecture me.Ivy Monroe Hart. Married. Newly minted. And apparently, still a child in her mother’s eyes.I exhaled slowly and picked the phone up. No. Not yet. I didn’t want to hear her voice, not today. Not when everything else felt so fragile. I set it back down.The phone buzzed again.Lake’s arm slid around my waist from behind, warm and grounding, and I leaned into him despite the anxiety clawing at my r

  • Fake To Fall    Chapter 36: Morning After Forever

    IvyThe first thing I noticed when I woke up was the quiet.Not the empty kind—the kind that presses against your ears and reminds you you’re alone—but the full, settled quiet. Like the world had exhaled and decided to stay that way for a moment. The kind of quiet that feels earned.The second thing I noticed was warmth.Solid. Human. Familiar in a way that made my chest tighten before my brain caught up.Lake.My husband.That word landed late. Like a delayed echo.Husband.I lay still, my face half-buried in the pillow, my hair a mess, my cheek warm where it rested against his bare shoulder. His arm was draped around my waist, loose but certain, like even in sleep he’d decided this was where I belonged. His breathing was slow and even, the rise and fall of his chest steady beneath my palm.I stared at the wooden ceiling of the cabin, the beams catching the early morning light, and let the word repeat itself in my head.Husband. Husband. Husband.It didn’t feel fake. That was the pr

  • Fake To Fall    Chapter 35: Married in Fall

    Ivy & LakeThe trees around the retreat had turned into a brilliant masterpiece of oranges, reds, and golds, as if nature itself had decided to show off for their big day. Ivy stood outside the same cabin where it all started—where fake kisses turned real and where awkwardness turned into aching affection. But today, there was no pretense. No fake titles. Just love, stripped down to its most authentic self.Maple leaves crunched under her shoes as she stepped out of the small dressing room, her dress simple but stunning—ivory satin that hugged her curves, with sleeves made of sheer lace that danced in the wind. She had no bridesmaids, no entourage. Just her.And Lake.He waited near the fire pit, their makeshift altar, dressed in a dark navy suit, his hair messy in that signature Lake Hart kind of way. A crooked smile curved his lips the moment he saw her. No one else existed in his gaze. Just Ivy. His bride.Their guest list was short. The couples from the retreat who’d stayed in tou

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