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Two hundred and fifty three

Author: Ese Gwede
last update Petsa ng paglalathala: 2025-06-16 16:47:57

~Fallon~

The envelope has lived in the same spot on my kitchen counter for three days. Unmoving. Unopened. Quietly patient in a way that feels almost cruel.

Every time I walk past it, my breath catches in my throat—like it’s radiating heat. Like it knows what’s inside it could split me open in a way I’ve worked so hard to avoid.

I’ve swept around it. Set mugs beside it. Almost tossed it once, but I couldn’t do it. I couldn’t throw away something from Reid without knowing what it held.

That, may
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  • Fallon’s Reid: An Arranged Contract   Epilogue II

    ~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

  • Fallon’s Reid: An Arranged Contract   Epilogue

    ~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’s Reid: An Arranged Contract   Three hundred and one

    ~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

  • Fallon’s Reid: An Arranged Contract   Three hundred

    ~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’s Reid: An Arranged Contract   Two hundred and ninety nine

    ~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’s Reid: An Arranged Contract   Two hundred and ninety eight

    ~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

  • Fallon’s Reid: An Arranged Contract   Eighty four

    ~Fallon~I didn’t go back inside right away.The sun was warm on my skin, but I still felt cold — the kind of cold that starts in your chest and spreads, making every breath feel heavy.My father’s words echoed in my head, relentless and sharp.Keep him happy. Or this entire family pays the price.

  • Fallon’s Reid: An Arranged Contract   Eighty three

    ~Fallon~The study smelled like leather and scotch.It was a room built for power — dark wood, sleek lines, shelves lined with books that no one had touched in years. My father’s domain. His throne.The door clicked shut behind me, and just like that, the air grew heavier.He moved to his desk, slo

  • Fallon’s Reid: An Arranged Contract   Eighty two

    ~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 hea

  • Fallon’s Reid: An Arranged Contract   Eighty one

    ~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,

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