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Whatever I'm feeling for Sean needs to be locked away. I have too much at stake to risk it all on something that was never meant to last.

Still, why does doing the right thing feel so wrong?

16

SEAN

Our conversation lingers in my mind for days. Wren says it was a mistake. Says it won’t happen again.

I hear her voice on a loop for three days straight. Like a song I hate but can’t stop humming.

We’re both quieter around each other now, each retreating into the safety of work and routine. We keep it civil. Polished. In front of everyone, we smile on cue. She slides her hand into mine before cameras. I lean in like it’s second nature. The performance is seamless now. We’ve had enough practice but the warmth is gone, replaced by a professional courtesy that feels worse than anger.

At home, it’s quiet. Too quiet.

We move through the house like coworkers who share a break room. Polite. Predictable. No late-night talks. No lingering stares.

This morning we have a press moment outside of Lemon HQ. Just a few questions from a lifestyle reporter doing a piece on women in tech. It isn't supposed to be personal.

Then the last question drops.

“So Wren and Sean! The people are curious. How serious is this relationship? Are wedding bells in the future?”

I feel Wren tense beside me. Without thinking, I slide my arm around her waist, a hand settling in the small of her back.

“We're taking it one day at a time.”

“Please, tell us, how did you two meet?”

“Through Jen. Then later, she hired me,” I step in.

The reporter laughs. “That’s not very romantic.”

“She had me at ‘I need your background check.’”

The reporter grins, turning her mic to Wren. “So what’s your favorite thing about him? What makes this relationship different?”

Wren looks up at me, her expression shifts. “He sees me,” she says in a soft voice, her eyes never leaving my face. “Not the actress, not the CEO. Just me. And he listens. Most people don’t. But he does.”

My chest tightens. For a moment, I forget we're pretending.

“And what about you, Sean? What drew you to Wren?”

I glance at Wren. She’s staring at me, wide-eyed.

The words come easy. “Wren is a strong-willed woman. There are so many things I love about her. The way she lights up when she talks about her son. How she hums Motown songs when she thinks no one's listening. She’s the kind of person to say what she wants even when it scares the hell out of her.”

She looks away, her fingers digging into my arm. The reporter beams, scribbling fast.

We make it through the rest of the interview with practiced charm.

She laughs at the right times. I touch her, she touches me. The reporter eats it up.

But as soon as the cameras shut off, the air changes.

Back in my office at Lemon LLC, I shove the door closed. I open my laptop and began working, checking the security feeds.Logs. Camera angles. Reports from my team. I’ve done this a dozen times since the scandal broke. But I still can’t shake it.

That leaked paparazzi shot of us still bothers me. They were informed. Someone had us followed. They don’t get shots like that by chance.