Chapter 5
Linsey didn’t say anything at first. She just stood there, rooted in place, struggling to process it all. Five years. Five years ago, she had smiled at a stranger in a bookstore without knowing her entire life would somehow circle back to that moment.
“You disappeared,” she finally whispered, her voice shaky. “Why didn’t you at least say goodbye?”
“If I had stayed, I would’ve wanted more,” Collin said, his voice low. “And I couldn’t give you more—not then. I was barely holding myself together. No money. No reputation. No name that meant anything.”
“So you left me behind,” she murmured.
“I never had you to begin with,” he replied. “But I wanted to earn the right to.”
Linsey sat down slowly, staring at the floor. She remembered that day so clearly now—how he had asked what she was reading, how his eyes had been kind, curious. He hadn’t treated her like a background character in his day, but like someone worth listening to. And then he was gone. Just like that.
“I don’t know what to say,” she admitted.
“You don’t have to say anything.” Collin moved to sit across from her. “I didn’t marry you yesterday because of that day. That day just reminded me of what kind of person you are. I married you because it felt right. Because you didn’t flinch when things fell apart. Because you stood your ground when most people would have crumbled.”
Linsey looked up at him. “You really think we can keep pretending forever?”
“Who says we have to pretend?” he asked.
She blinked. “You said this was just an act.”
“Maybe it was… at first,” he said. “But you’re not the kind of woman anyone can fake forever with.”
There was a knock at the door.
They both turned as one of Collin’s assistants stepped in, holding a silver tablet. “Sir, this just came in. A reporter got their hands on some old photos.”
Collin took the tablet, swiped across the screen, and stiffened.
“What is it?” Linsey asked.
He turned the screen toward her. A photo taken five years ago—blurry but unmistakable. Her, in that bookstore, sitting on the floor with a novel in her lap. And beside her, slightly out of frame, was Collin. Back then, he wasn’t in suits. His hair was longer, his face younger, his eyes different.
The headline above the photo read:
“Zillionaire’s Bride Wasn’t So Random After All?”
Her stomach dropped.
“This isn’t good,” the assistant said. “The media’s starting to piece together that this wasn’t entirely spontaneous. They’re calling it a calculated move. Some are suggesting you targeted her years ago.”
Collin closed the tablet slowly. “Let them talk. We don’t owe them an explanation.”
Linsey stood. “But they’ll come after us. After me.”
“Let them.” He looked up at her. “If you’re with me, you don’t have to be afraid of anything.”
She searched his face for any trace of hesitation, but there was none. He meant every word.
“Okay,” she said softly. “Then I’ll stand by you too.”
They didn’t touch. They didn’t hug. But something between them shifted—settled. As if a silent vow had been made.
For the first time since the wedding, it didn’t feel like two strangers playing dress-up. It felt like something real was growing between them. Not the rushed ceremony. Not the public smiles.
But this—this quiet honesty in the middle of chaos.
Later that night, after Collin disappeared into his study, Linsey stood by the massive window and looked out at the city lights. She couldn’t help but wonder how much more he was hiding. How much deeper his past ran. Why, despite the world knowing his name, he still seemed like someone fighting demons no one else could see.
One thing was certain now: their lives were more tangled than she ever imagined.
And even though everything started as a mistake, it no longer felt like one.