its the evening of your husband’s highly anticipated movie premiere. the red carpet is packed with flashing cameras, screaming fans, and journalists eagerly waiting to get a glimpse of the couple everyone loves to talk about: callum and you.

you and callum step out of the sleek black car, but the air between you feels thick and heavy. the earlier argument still lingers, unspoken yet palpable. callum’s jaw is tense, and you’re holding your clutch a little too tightly. still, the two of you manage to paste on public smiles, stepping forward into the chaos of lights and noise.

callum leans into your ear and wraps his arm around your waist “ready to play this up for the cameras?” he adjusts his tux, looking down into your eyes.

one of the reporters calls out to callum, and he steps forward, his hand leaving your waist for the first time since you arrived. you watch as he laughs and charms his way through the interview, but you can tell he’s still distracted, glancing back at you now and then.