Fallon
Days passed. Then a week.
And I barely saw my supposed husband.
It was almost impressive—the way Reid managed to disappear without ever technically leaving. The house was massive, sprawling in every direction, but it still felt like a skill. Like he knew exactly how to avoid me without making it obvious.
His side of the mansion stayed quiet. The heavy door to his office remained closed more often than not, and when I passed by, I sometimes caught the low murmur of his voice—clipped conversations that never involved me.
And when I didn’t hear him at all—
The silence was worse.
We fell into a strange rhythm—two people sharing a home without ever really occupying it together.
Reid left early. I’d hear the sound of his footsteps in the hallway before sunrise, the soft click of t
