Forty one

Forty one
Fallon
The Callahan estate was as intimidating as ever.
All glass and stone and old money elegance, sitting at the edge of a perfectly manicured lawn that stretched on for acres. The kind of house where everything felt too pristine to touch — too polished, too perfect.
Too easy to break.
And today, it felt like a trap.
My heels clicked against the marble floors as I stepped inside the grand foyer. The place always smelled faintly of roses and old wood, the scent so familiar it felt like stepping into another life — one I’d never quite fit into.
“Fallon, darling!”
Evelyn Callahan’s voice rang out like music, warm and welcoming as ever. She swept toward me with that effortless grace, her arms outstretched, her designer silk dress flowing as if she were gliding. The hug was light and perfumed, like everything about her — delicate but calculated.
“I’m so glad you could come,” she said, pulling back with a beaming smile. Her perfectly styled blonde hair didn’t move an inch.
“Of course,” I replied, schooling my features into something that resembled a smile. “Thanks for inviting me.”
She held me at arm’s length, her eyes scanning my face like she was searching for something — and whatever she found seemed to please her.
“We have so much to talk about,” she said, her voice soft with a kind of anticipation that made my stomach tighten.
Oh, God.
The sunroom was drenched in golden light, warm and airy with its sweeping windows and pale, elegant furnishings. The table was already set — delicate china, fresh flowers, and an assortment of pastries so perfect they looked like they belonged in a magazine. Evelyn poured the tea herself, chatting all the while in that effortless way she had.
“So,” she began, her eyes twinkling with curiosity. “How’s married life treating you?”
I kept my smile in place, even as the question sent a sharp pang through my chest.
“Busy,” I said lightly, lifting my teacup. “With both our schedules, it’s been a bit of an adjustment.”
She sighed, her expression softening with dreamy fondness. “Oh, that’s perfectly normal. Charles and I were the same at first. But I always knew you two would balance each other out.”
Balance. Right. I wondered how much balancing it took when your husband texted his travel plans like a distant coworker.
“I have to say,” Evelyn continued, her voice lowering as if sharing a secret. “Reid’s so different with you.”
My heart gave an uncomfortable jolt. “Different how?”
Her smile turned wistful. “More… relaxed. Happy.”
I almost choked on my tea. “Happy?”
“Oh, yes.” She nodded, eyes shining. “I can see it. The way he looks at you — like you’re his whole world.”
The words landed like a punch, knocking the air out of me. I forced a laugh, but my throat felt tight. “He’s good at looking the part.”
Evelyn didn’t seem to catch the edge in my voice. Or maybe she did and chose to ignore it. “And you — you’ve just blossomed, darling. That kiss at the gala—” She placed a hand over her heart, eyes misty. “My heart nearly burst!”
I was going to die.
“I’ve always hoped for this,” she went on, her voice soft and earnest. “For Reid to find someone who truly sees him — who loves him the way he deserves.”
The ache in my chest deepened. I wanted to tell her the truth — wanted to rip off the mask and stop this charade — but the words wouldn’t come.
“Of course,” Evelyn added, her eyes gleaming with the kind of excitement that made my skin crawl, “it does make one wonder—”
I set my cup down with a little too much force. “We’re not planning on kids anytime soon.”
The smile faltered on her face, just a bit. “Oh,” she said, recovering quickly. “But you’d be such wonderful parents. And I’d love nothing more than to spoil my grandchildren—”
“Evelyn.” I kept my voice gentle but firm. “Reid and I are focused on our careers right now. Kids… aren’t on the table.”
Not ever. The words sat heavy on my tongue, but I couldn’t say them. Not to her.
She patted my hand like she hadn’t heard me at all. “You say that now. But when the time is right—”
I just smiled. Because it was easier than the truth.
The rest of the visit passed in a blur of pleasantries and careful conversation, but the weight of it all settled over me like a lead blanket. Evelyn meant well — I knew she did. But every warm word, every hopeful look, was built on a lie I’d helped create.
By the time I finally escaped the estate, my head was pounding and my heart felt heavier than it had in weeks. I climbed into my car, grateful for the quiet — until my phone buzzed on the seat beside me.
More notifications. More articles. More fan edits of a love story that didn’t exist.
And with Evelyn’s words still ringing in my ears — the way he looks at you, like you’re his whole world — the weight of the lie felt heavier than ever.
I gripped the steering wheel, staring at the endless stretch of perfect lawn. And for one wild, reckless second, I wondered what would happen if I just drove away and never looked back.
But I didn’t.
Instead, I drove back toward the life I’d built on a foundation of half-truths and pretty illusions. And with every mile, the cracks in that foundation spread just a little bit wider.