~Reid~
A few days had passed, and I still hadn’t heard a word from her. Part of me wondered if the terms in the contract had been too much for her to handle. Most women wanted the fairy tale —love, marriage, and the whole happily ever after package. A contract marriage? That was asking for too much, I suppose. I got it. But I wasn’t about to be tied down by any of that nonsense. The only reason I even agreed to this arrangement was because my father practically begged me to do it. And Fallon? I wasn’t about to fake any interest in her. I glanced at my watch —Friday night. Time to blow off some steam. I pulled out my phone and dialed Dave. “What’s up?” “You ready?” “On my way. I’ll meet you at the club,” I said, hanging up. Back at my condo, I took a quick shower before pulling on a pair of jeans and a leather jacket. Perfect for the night ahead. Running into Fallon at the club? That was not part of the plan. I froze when I spotted her through the crowd, feeling something weird twist in my chest. And then I noticed she wasn’t wearing her engagement ring. What the hell? If she wanted this arrangement to work, she could at least respect it enough to wear the damn ring. My jaw clenched, but I kept my expression neutral. She saw me. I knew she did. But instead of acknowledging me, she looked away like I didn’t exist. Seriously? A flash of anger burned in my chest. I wasn’t the kind of guy to make a scene, but Fallon had this infuriating way of getting under my skin. And then it got worse. Some guy swaggered up to her, trying to grind against her on the dance floor. Not on my watch. Contract marriage or not, she was mine. No other man was going to put his hands on her. I moved through the crowd, cutting a path straight to her. In one swift motion, I grabbed her arm and pulled her away from the guy, ignoring his annoyed grunt. Fallon’s eyes widened in surprise as I led her outside. To my surprise, she didn’t resist. The cool night air hit us as we stepped out onto the street. I released her arm but stayed close enough to block her from going back inside. “What the hell were you doing in there?” I snapped, the edge in my tone catching me off guard. I don’t usually lose my cool over women. Fallon crossed her arms, completely unfazed by my anger. “It’s a club, Reid. People dance in there,” she said dryly, her sarcasm only fueling my frustration. “We’re about to announce our engagement. You shouldn’t be doing stuff like that. Don’t embarrass me." I said, trying to control my tone to the best of my ability. “How was I supposed to know you’d be here tonight?” She retorted. “So if I wasn’t, you’d be frolicking with some random guy?” “No,” she shot back, her voice steady. “I’d be having fun and forgetting about my problems." Her words caught me off guard. There was something raw in her eyes that unsettled me for a second. “So I’m your problem?” I asked. She shrugged, and that was all the answer I needed. “Fine then. Have fun watching your father’s company crumble because you can’t hold up your end of the bargain." Yeah, that was a low blow, but she started it. Her face shifted —a mix of shock and fury. My words had landed right where I aimed. “Thanks for the reminder, asshole,” she spat, shoving past me. I watched her walk away, fighting the urge to go after her. No. We’d deal with this later —when emotions weren’t running this high. ~~~ I was seated in my office on Monday, only a few days after the squabble with Fallon, when I got a call from my secretary that I had an unexpected visitor. She walked into my office, the flowery scent of her perfume wafting into my nostrils as she made her presence known, exuding an overpowering feminine aura. Okay Reid, snap out of it. I smirked slightly as she walked over to my desk. "Hello Reid," "Hello Fallon. Have a seat." She sat down opposite me, her twinkling eyes settling on my face. "What do I owe this unexpected visit?" "I went through the contract. It's signed." She pushed the folder towards me. I picked it up and skimmed through it. She had indeed signed all the designated spots, including the attached prenup. "You didn't argue over the prenup?" I asked, slightly surprised. "I don't need your money, Reid. I just need you to save my father's company." She said without as much as a blink as she spoke. "Alright then. I'll sign these and immediately send them to my lawyer." I said, ignoring the underlying anger in her tone. I was not going to pick a fight with her today. She got on her feet just then. "Why don't we go out and celebrate?" I offered as a way to make up after our last encounter at the club. "No, thanks." She said and walked off before I could say anything else. I shrugged casually as the door shut. I did try to make peace. She was the one holding grudges.~One Year Later~ ~Fallon~ The rain had just stopped when I stepped onto the porch. The world looked rinsed clean—washed of everything heavy. The sky was still gray at the edges, but light had begun to filter through in soft streaks, like gold ink bleeding through vellum. The air smelled like lavender and wet grass. Somewhere down the hill, a wind chime danced gently in the breeze—delicate, hollow, musical. It sounded like a lullaby. Like grace. Like the beginning of something quiet and holy. In my arms was everything I didn’t know I’d been missing. My daughter. Wrapped in a blush knit blanket, warm and impossibly small, her tiny cheek pressed against my collarbone. Her breath was soft and even, rising and falling like she had all the time in the world. As if she already understood something the rest of us hadn’t quite figured out—how to simply be here. I couldn’t stop looking at her. She had Reid’s lashes—absurdly long and unfair for someone so new to the planet. My nose. Ful
~One Month Later~~Fallon~The first rays of morning sun spilled through the floor-to-ceiling windows, casting warm gold across the hardwood floors of the master suite. Outside, Los Angeles was still stretching, still yawning awake—just like the man asleep in our bed.I stood barefoot on the balcony, wrapped in the oversized white shirt I’d stolen from him—again. His scent still clung to the fabric, and my fingers curled around the coffee mug as if it were anchoring me in this moment.The city looked different now. Not because it had changed. But because I had.This time last year, I was heartbroken. Untethered. Unsure if I’d ever trust myself—or love—again.Now, I was someone’s wife. Again. But not in the way I used to be.This time, I had chosen it with open eyes. With healing behind me. With love that had been tried and tested and still said yes.The wedding had been everything people said it would be—stunning, sacred, a media frenzy. But the moment I kept replaying wasn’t the kiss
~Fallon~ The sun rose like it had been waiting for us. Soft gold spilled across the white curtains of the bridal suite, painting the walls in honey and warmth. I was already awake. Not from nerves—but from stillness. Anticipation. The weight of knowing this wasn’t just a wedding. It was a return. Today, I became Fallon Callahan again. Only this time… I was choosing it. The room buzzed around me—stylists fussing with palettes and pins, Mia barking orders like a Hollywood director, soft music threading through the air—but it all felt like background noise. Like the world had faded into soft focus, and all I could see was the path ahead. The life ahead. Mia peeked through the curtains and gasped dramatically. “Okay. The paparazzi have officially formed a human wall at the gate. It’s giving royal wedding meets Vogue editorial.” I laughed, curling my legs under me on the sofa, silk robe falling around my knees. “They’ve been waiting for this since the first breakup. I’m surprised t
~Reid~I stood on the edge of the balcony at my father’s estate—the same one I used to loathe visiting when I was younger.Nothing had changed.The garden below was still painfully perfect. Trimmed hedges in uniform rows. Stone pathways that curved with clinical precision. Not a petal out of place. It was beautiful in that sterile, expensive way—his way.Too controlled. Too silent. Like everything in his world.But I wasn’t here to judge his landscaping. I was here because he asked.That alone made it strange.We didn’t “talk,” not like normal families. Ours was a home of polite efficiency. Quiet discipline. Appearances over intimacy. Every conversation had an unspoken deadline, and emotion was considered a tactical error.So when he called that morning and simply said, “Come over. Let’s talk,” I’d paused. No tone. No warmth. No motive I could read.But I’d come anyway. Because we were getting married soon. Because I had changed. Because it was time.I heard the soft click of the slid
~Fallon~“Do we want an orchestra or a live band?”Reid was sitting cross-legged on the couch, flipping through a high-end wedding planner binder his assistant had couriered over that morning. His reading glasses—yes, he wore those now when he wasn’t trying to prove a point—slid dangerously low on his nose. He looked so serious, like we were negotiating a hostile merger.One leg was propped on the coffee table. His hair was slightly damp from a shower, his sleeves rolled, and for a second I just watched him. This man I had loved, lost, and found again—now buried in calligraphy options like it was the fate of the nation.I looked up from my Pinterest board, amused. “You own half of California, and you’re asking me about bands?”He didn’t look up. “I figured I’d try being a collaborative fiancé.”I tilted my head, mock-suspicious. “Since when?”“Since Mia threatened to lock me out of my own wedding.”“She will,” Mia called from across the room, where she was sitting cross-legged on the
~Fallon~The curtains were still drawn.Pale morning light painted soft streaks on the walls, the kind of quiet blue-gray that felt more like a sigh than a sunrise. Outside, the city was starting to stir, but in here, time had no shape.It didn’t feel like morning.It didn’t feel like anything I could define.Just warmth. Stillness. That low hum of peace that only comes after you’ve survived the wreckage and found your way back to shore.Reid’s arm was wrapped around my waist, loose and sure. His body curved into mine like we’d been sculpted that way. The sheets were tangled around our legs, our skin pressed together in all the places that mattered. I could feel his breath against the back of my neck—slow, even, steady.Like safety. Like home.I didn’t move. Didn’t speak.Not because I was afraid to break the moment, but because I didn’t have to.The room was quiet except for the sound of his breathing and the occasional creak of the old wood beneath the bed. The air smelled faintly o