~Fallon~I shouldn’t have called him.The second I heard his voice — low and rough, like I’d woken him or maybe just caught him off guard — I knew it was a mistake.But I couldn’t help it.The house was too quiet. The walls were too big. And the distance between us was starting to feel impossible.I just… wanted to hear your voice.God, I hated myself for saying it.But the worst part?I meant it.When the call ended, the house felt even emptier than before.I stood there for a long time, my phone still warm in my hand, listening to the echo of his last words.Fallon. Don’t hang up.I should’ve stayed on the line. Should’ve told him the truth — that I missed him, that this house didn’t feel like home when he wasn’t here, that I didn’t know how to keep pretending this wasn’t getting too real.But instead, I said goodbye.And now the silence felt deafening.I wandered from room to room, my footsteps echoing against the sleek marble floors. The house was beautiful — perfect, even — but i
~Fallon~If one more person asked me where my husband was, I was going to scream.The award event was glamorous — all glittering lights, designer gowns, and the hum of excitement in the air. It should’ve been perfect. A night to celebrate, network, and remind the world why I was good at this.But all anyone wanted to talk about was Reid.“Fallon! Fallon, over here!”The photographers called out from the sidelines, their cameras flashing in quick bursts as I stepped onto the red carpet. I smiled — the one I’d perfected years ago, the one that said I’m fine even when I wasn’t — and posed, my dress flowing like liquid ink around me.But the questions started almost immediately.“Fallon! Looking stunning tonight! But we have to ask — where’s Reid?”The smile never wavered. But my fingers tightened around the clutch in my hand.“He’s traveling for work,” I said smoothly, the answer so well-rehearsed it came out like silk.But of course, they didn’t stop there.“Is everything okay between y
~Fallon~I wasn’t expecting him.Not that night. Not that way.The house had been so quiet for days — the kind of stillness that settles into your bones, making the space around you feel too big, too empty. I’d gotten used to it. Or maybe I just convinced myself I had.So when the front door creaked open — that familiar, heavy sound cutting through the silence — I didn’t think twice. It had to be one of the staff. Maybe the housekeeper coming back for something she’d forgotten. Or the groundskeeper checking in.But then I heard the footsteps.Heavy. Certain. Not rushed, not tentative — just… his.And my heart jumped into my throat.I barely had time to stand before he appeared in the doorway.Reid Callahan was home. Again.For a second, I forgot how to breathe.He looked… tired. The sharp edges of his suit were rumpled, his tie loosened and hanging unevenly around his neck. There was stubble darkening his jaw, and his hair — usually so perfectly styled — was slightly tousled, like h
~Fallon~ For weeks, we’d been living separate lives. We passed each other like strangers in this massive house — polite, distant, and pretending the kiss that changed everything never happened. He worked late. I buried myself in content creation. And the silence stretched so long, I almost started to believe this was how it was always going to be. There were moments — brief, fleeting — when the distance slipped. The brush of his hand when we reached for the same thing. The way his eyes would linger a second too long when he thought I wasn’t looking. The tension that built every time we were in the same room, thick and electric, even when we weren’t speaking. But neither of us crossed the line. And the space between us kept growing. Work kept me busy. Campaigns rolled in, brand deals lined up, and my schedule was packed with photo shoots, product launches, and back-to-back editing sessions. My days blurred into a steady rhythm of content and deadlines — and I was gratefu
~Fallon~I knew this trip was going to be a disaster the second my mom sent the itinerary.Not because of the early morning hikes or the “bonding activities” she’d planned.But because of the guest list.My older brother, Oliver, was flying in from Singapore with his wife — Elise — a woman I’d spoken to maybe three times since their wedding five years ago. Elise had the warmth of a marble statue and the personality to match, and the last time we’d been in the same room, she’d spent the entire dinner correcting my mom’s French.My half-sister, Bianca, was coming too. Of course she was. And she was bringing her husband, because why not make things as awkward as possible?Neither of them had come to my wedding.But sure. Let’s play happy families on a weekend getaway.I paced the bedroom while Reid packed, the sound of the zipper sliding shut making my nerves spike.“You know they didn’t even call?” I said, arms crossed tight. “Not a single message when we got married. But suddenly, they
~Fallon~I knew the dinner was doomed before the first course even hit the table.The air was thick — too many forced smiles, too much wine poured too fast. My mom was already on edge, flitting around the dining room like her life depended on keeping everything light. The crystal gleamed, the candles flickered, and the estate’s chef served courses that looked like art.But none of it mattered.Not with the people seated around the table.Bianca, with her too-sweet smile and sharper tongue. Oliver, already half-checked out and scrolling through his phone. Elise, his perfectly poised wife, watching everything with cold calculation.And my father.He sat at the head of the table, silent and watchful, his presence enough to make my throat tight.He didn’t have to say much. He rarely did when the family gathered.But when he did speak?Everyone listened.“So, Fallon,” Bianca began, her voice light and casual — which was exactly how I knew she was about to go for blood. “You’ve been busy, h
~Fallon~I should’ve seen this coming.The second my mom handed out the room keys with that too-bright smile, I knew something was up. And when she passed me one key — just one — I felt the bottom drop out of my stomach.“Wait,” I said slowly, holding the single key between my fingers. “One?”“Oh, don’t be silly, Fallon.” My mom waved a hand like this was the most obvious thing in the world. “You’re married. You don’t need separate rooms.”I blinked. My brain short-circuited. I looked down at the key like it had personally betrayed me.When I finally managed to find my voice, it was strained. “Mom —”But before I could get another word out, Reid swooped in like the traitor he was.“Of course,” he said smoothly, sliding the key out of my hand with that practiced charm that fooled everyone but me. “Thank you, Vivian.”My mother beamed.I plotted his murder.The room was beautiful.Of course it was. My mom didn’t do modest. The suite was huge — high ceilings, a private balcony overlookin
~Fallon~I should’ve known breakfast would be a battlefield.The dining room was already buzzing when we walked in — my mom’s voice pitched too high, the clink of silverware against porcelain, the quiet hum of tension just beneath the surface.Oliver and Elise sat at one end of the table, their heads bent together in low conversation. Bianca scrolled on her phone, perfectly manicured fingers tapping the screen like she was already over this entire gathering.And my dad? He sat at the head of the table, silent and watchful, his presence a gravity that pulled everyone’s moods down with it.Reid’s hand brushed the small of my back as we found our seats — a light, familiar touch that shouldn’t have made my pulse jump the way it did. But I was still trying to shake off the memory of waking up wrapped in him — his warmth, his scent, the slow, steady weight of his arm around my waist.The space between us felt smaller than it had in a long time. And I didn’t know what to do with that.“Well,
~Fallon~The moment we stepped into the event, all eyes turned to us.Flashing cameras. Murmurs that rippled through the room like a wave. The weight of a hundred socialites’ gazes assessing, whispering, speculating.I was used to this. The attention. The scrutiny. The carefully curated perfection that was expected at these high-profile events. But tonight, something felt different.Maybe it was because Reid was here with me.His presence altered the balance. He wasn’t just another attendee—he was a force. Tall, sharp, effortlessly commanding in a tailored black suit that looked like it had been crafted just for him. The air shifted around him. People either tried to impress him or feared getting in his way.And yet, despite his usual unshakable demeanor, I could tell he wasn’t entirely comfortable.“You hate these things,” I murmured as we glided through the crowd.Reid’s jaw ticked, but his hand on my lower back didn’t falter. “I tolerate them.”I smirked. “Liar. You despise them.”
~Fallon~I knew the moment I opened my eyes that today was going to be a whirlwind.Mornings in my world were never slow. There was always something to plan, something to post, someone to respond to. The moment I reached for my phone, notifications flooded my screen—emails from my management team, campaign updates, and an invite to yet another exclusive event that I wasn’t sure I wanted to attend.I exhaled, already feeling the rush of the day creeping in, but this was the life I had built, and I loved it.Still, it was a lot. More than it used to be.A year ago, I could handle everything myself. The emails, the collaborations, the content planning—I thrived on it. But ever since my following had exploded, so had the demands. My campaigns were bigger, my schedule tighter, my inbox never-ending.Which was exactly why I now had Maya.Her hiring hadn’t been my idea.It had been Reid’s.“You can’t do everything yourself anymore,” he had said, watching me juggle three phone calls while rev
~Fallon~I wasn’t sure when I first noticed it. Maybe it was the sharp edge to Reid’s voice when his assistant mentioned Pierce Industries. Or the way his jaw tightened, the muscle there ticking, when his father casually brought up Alexander at the last family dinner.Or maybe it was how, right now, as we sat across from each other in his office, he had barely looked up from his laptop in the last thirty minutes.Something was wrong.Reid wasn’t the type to let emotions cloud his judgment—at least, not in business. He was too methodical for that. But whatever had happened between him and Alexander Pierce, it wasn’t just business.And it was getting under his skin.I closed the folder I had been pretending to read and leaned back in my chair, watching him. His office was sleek, all dark wood and glass, every detail curated for power and precision. Reid himself was no different—clad in a crisp white shirt, sleeves pushed up just enough to hint at ease, though the tightness in his should
ReidThe office buzzed with its usual efficiency—phones ringing, keyboards clacking, the steady murmur of negotiations happening behind closed doors. I thrived in this chaos. Controlled, predictable, productive. It was a far cry from the staged interviews and socialite dinners that had dominated my life lately.Here, I was in control.Or at least, I had been.Until the moment Ethan, my CFO, stepped into my office with a carefully neutral expression that immediately set me on edge.“We have a situation,” he said, shutting the door behind him.I leaned back in my chair, exhaling slowly. “Go on.”Ethan slid a folder across my desk. “Pierce Holdings just made a bid for the Kingston project.”My fingers tightened around the folder before I even opened it.Kingston was supposed to be ours. It was one of the most sought-after commercial real estate developments of the year, and I’d spent months laying the groundwork to secure it. My team had vetted every risk, anticipated every counteroffer.
~Fallon~The Callahans knew how to throw a dinner party.The ballroom of the Callahan estate had been transformed into a vision of understated opulence—soft golden lighting, towering floral arrangements, crystal chandeliers casting a warm glow over the sea of finely dressed guests. It was the kind of gathering where wealth wasn’t flaunted but effortlessly woven into every detail.I was used to these events. I had attended them my entire life.But this time, I was attending after a scandal that almost blew our cover as a couple. And the weight of that title settled heavily on my shoulders.Reid and I entered together, his hand resting lightly on the small of my back—a practiced gesture, perfectly executed for the benefit of the watchful eyes dissecting our every move. He looked as effortlessly put together as ever, clad in a tailored black suit, his sharp features unreadable. I, in contrast, had spent too much time choosing the perfect dress—something elegant but not too soft, somethi
~Fallon~I should’ve known this would happen.The moment the interview aired, the internet exploded.And I mean exploded.The clip of Reid saying “Sometimes” in response to missing the past was spreading like wildfire, impossible to avoid. It was everywhere—spliced into fan edits, dissected in think pieces, slowed down, zoomed in, paired with heart-wrenching music and captions that made it impossible to ignore.At first, I told myself I wouldn’t look.Then, five minutes later, I was doom scrolling through the wreckage like an addict in withdrawal.Every single post was a fresh disaster.— @fallonandreidupdates: “THE WAY HE LOOKS AT HER. THIS MAN IS IN LOVE, AND SHE HAS NO IDEA. Okay many she does. She’s his wife. Lol.”— @popculturetea: “Reid Callahan saying ‘sometimes’ when asked if he misses their past is the most devastatingly romantic thing I’ve ever witnessed.”— @obsessedwithfallon: “No, but the way Fallon looked like she forgot how to breathe when he said it??? Someone check on
~Fallon~I wasn’t supposed to be enjoying this.The cozy atmosphere, the warm lighting, the way Reid and I had effortlessly slipped into this routine. It was too easy. Too familiar.Too dangerous.Because I knew what would happen if I let myself forget—even for a second—that this was still a game.This was our second interview this week. Another glossy, exclusive sit-down designed to steer the public narrative in our favor. Another carefully controlled conversation meant to prove that our marriage wasn’t built on smoke and mirrors.And yet, as I sat next to Reid on the plush couch of this sleek, modern studio, the bright lights illuminating us in a soft, flattering glow, I realized something unsettling.I wasn’t sure where the performance ended and where reality began.The host, a sharp-eyed woman in a perfectly tailored blazer, leaned forward, smiling like she was in on some inside joke we weren’t yet aware of.“You two have known each other for so long,” she mused. “Long before the
~Fallon~I needed to get out of there.The moment the cameras stopped rolling, I was up, heels clicking against the marble floors of the studio hallway, my body thrumming with restless energy. I didn’t know where I was going—just that I needed to move. Away from the lights. Away from the whispers. Away from him.But Reid wasn’t making it easy.“You’re walking too fast,” he said, his voice smooth and unbothered, footsteps falling in sync with mine. “What, afraid I’ll ask for a real kiss this time?”I spun so quickly he nearly collided with me. “Don’t flatter yourself.”He smirked, the same insufferable expression I had seen a thousand times before. “You sure? Because from where I was sitting, you looked pretty into it.”My face heated. “We sold the story. That’s what matters.”He studied me, too closely, too carefully. “You always do that.”“Do what?”His gaze flicked downward, lingering just long enough for me to realize what he meant.Biting my lip.I forced myself to stop, pressing
~Fallon~A kiss.Right here. Right now.The host’s challenge hung in the air, thick and expectant, pressing down on me like a weight I couldn’t shake.I felt Reid’s eyes on me—steady, unreadable. Waiting.The studio had gone silent. Not the usual, buzzing anticipation of an interview, but something sharper. Heavier.The kind of silence that pulls at the edges of a moment, stretching it thin, stretching it tight—Stretching it to the point of breaking.I knew what I was supposed to do.Laugh it off. Play coy. Brush past it like it was nothing.Because it was nothing.Wasn’t it?I forced my lips into something resembling a smile. “Oh?” I tilted my head, feigning amusement. “And that would be enough? A single kiss to silence the speculation?”The host’s smirk didn’t falter. “It would certainly help.”I could feel the audience watching, waiting for the moment that would either confirm or destroy every rumor floating around.And I still didn’t dare look at Reid.Because if I did—If I met