Fallon
My table was drowning in wedding plans. Fabric swatches, floral arrangement samples, and endless seating charts covered every inch of the polished wood surface.
And Reid?
Nowhere to be found.
I stared at the chaos before me, my frustration simmering beneath the surface. For weeks, I had been the one juggling meetings with the planner, answering endless emails, and making every single decision about this wedding.
Our wedding.
Except Reid had barely lifted a finger.
The sound of the front door clicking shut broke my train of thought.
“Finally,” I muttered under my breath.
Reid’s heavy footsteps echoed through the hall, and moments later, he appeared, looking entirely too composed for a man walking into a battlefield. He loosened his tie and glanced at the table, his brows lif
