Chapter 2: Trending Scandals and Broken Vows

Babe?

Oh, right. He lost his memory.

He doesn’t remember that we’re already divorced.

I pried his fingers off, one by one, and took a careful step back.

I could still feel the heat of his hands lingering on my waist, but I forced myself to keep my distance. My voice was steady—even though I could hear the crack myself.

“Last month, you heard Savannah was back in the States, and you couldn’t wait to divorce me. So, we’re not married anymore.”

I tried to keep my voice steady, just laying out the facts. But the ache in my chest wouldn’t go away.

There was a weight in my words I couldn’t hide. I kept my expression neutral, but inside, I was unraveling.

Evan doesn’t know that I’ve liked him for a full ten years.

From when he first started out, to now—at the peak of his career.

I watched him, remembering the boy with dreams bigger than his bank account, the man who now had everything—except the one thing he could never seem to hold onto.

He stared at me, stunned. His brows furrowed, like he was searching every corner of his memory for something that just wouldn’t come.

After a long moment, he pressed his palm to his forehead, grimacing, like it hurt to even think.

“No way. How could I ever let you go?”

“Babe, you’re lying to me, aren’t you?”

“Did I screw up? Are you mad at me?”

His voice was so raw, so lost, it almost broke me. But I couldn’t let myself fall for him—not again.

I let out a soft sigh, shoulders drooping.

Looks like Evan really has forgotten a lot.

I wanted to reach out, to comfort him, but I stopped myself. Some wounds don’t heal with a touch.

Two days later, I’d just finished a night shoot and was dragging myself back to the hotel when my agent—who’s also my best friend—texted me.

“Didn’t you two get divorced? What’s with Evan Callahan? Admitting in public that he’s married?”

I was speechless.

I could practically hear her in my head—half amused, half exasperated. My fingers fumbled as I unlocked my phone, bracing for whatever storm was coming next.

I quickly opened Instagram, my pulse racing.

And there it was: #EvanCallahanEmilyReeseSecretMarriage was already trending at number one.

The hottest post was a viral video.

A passerby had run into Evan at a mall. He wasn’t wearing a mask, just standing there, grinning like a love-struck fool at a billboard.

They asked, “Mr. Callahan, are you a fan too?”

His eyes were gentle. He smiled, “No, this is my wife.”

And that billboard was my latest endorsement—from just a few weeks ago.

The internet exploded.

Some people congratulated us. Others hurled insults.

“He’s already thirty, isn’t it normal to get married?”

“How did Emily Reese land the Hollywood king? Teach us your ways!”

“How else? She probably threw herself at him, had a drunken hookup, got pregnant and married, right?”

“But Evan’s eyes are so soft, like he really loves Emily Reese.”

Because of that last comment, I watched the video over and over again.

Evan had his hands in his pockets, eyebrows raised, and as he spoke, his eyes never left my image on the billboard.

And when he said “wife,” it sounded so tender.

I got lost in my own head, spiraling.

I remembered when Evan and I got our marriage certificate—I was so happy I just blurted out:

“Evan, am I Mrs. Callahan now? Is this real?”

He suddenly stopped, his face changed, and he said coldly:

“Don’t call me Evan. Only she can call me that.”

How did I feel then?

It was like a bucket of ice water dumped over my head, chilling me to the bone.

From that day on, I knew Evan didn’t love me at all—he just used me to spite Savannah.

Thinking about it, I turned off my phone.