Fallon
The text came through just as I was finishing an edit—short, casual, and completely infuriating.
Reid: Out of town for a few days. Don’t wait up.
I stared at the screen, my fingers tightening around my phone. That was it? No conversation, no explanation—just a six-word text like I was his assistant and not his wife.
The anger came first—hot and immediate. Then came the hurt, creeping in quietly behind it, unwelcome but impossible to ignore.
I shouldn’t care.
But I did.
And I hated that.
I put my phone down and tried to refocus on the article I was editing, but the words blurred together. My mind kept circling back to him, to the way he’d slipped so easily out of my life with barely a parting word. We’d never pretended this marriage was anything more than a business arrangeme
