Page 52 of Six Month Wife

An idea I thought of recently keeps coming back to me. It’s a long shot, sure, but it’s worth trying.

Luckily, I don't have bad blood with my ex, so I don't mind calling her to ask her to help Adair. It's more about how I explain our situation.

I grab my laptop from the coffee table, settle it on my lap, and scroll through my contacts until I find a name I haven’t reached out to in two years.

Rose.

With a deep breath, I click the call button, half expecting it to go unanswered because she's so busy and we haven't talked in a while. But after a few rings, her face pops up on the screen, framed by the soft glow of whatever trendy lighting she’s using in her apartment.

“Parker?” she laughs, tilting her head. “To what do I owe the honor?”

“Rose,” I say, smiling despite myself. “You look good. How’s life treating you?”

“Life’s great,” she says, settling into what looks like a plush armchair. “Busy, but you know how it is. And you? Still saving lives in the world’s most glamorous retirement community?”

I grin. “Hey, say what you want, but I’ve never been hugged this much in my life. Or offered so many hard candies.”

She laughs, and I keep going. “How’s the influencer empire? You’re everywhere these days.”

Her face lights up. “Oh, you know. Endless content creation, brand deals, pretending I don’t want to throw my phone off a cliff every other day. But it’s good. Lucrative, at least.”

We chat for a bit, catching up on what’s happened in our lives since we broke up.

She tells me about her new fiancé, a tech entrepreneur who sounds like the polar opposite of me, and I tell her about my move here from New Orleans and trying to figure out my next steps.

Eventually, I steer the conversation to the real reason I called.

“Rose, can I ask you something?”

“Of course,” she says, her tone curious.

“How hard is it to book you for a brand deal?”

Her eyebrows lift slightly. “Depends on the deal. Why? You launching a wellness empire on the side now?”

“Not exactly.” I shift in my seat, glancing at the camera before looking away. “It’s for someone I know. She’s trying to get a skincare line off the ground.”

Rose raises an eyebrow. “Someone important?”

My mouth opens, but I hesitate for a moment too long. It’s just enough that she notices, as she always does.

“Yeah,” I say, keeping it neutral. “She is.”

Something flickers in her eyes, curiosity perhaps, but she doesn’t press. Instead, she leans back in her chair and says, “Then I’ll do it for you, no charge. Send me whatever you’ve got, and I’ll give it a plug.”

I blink. “That's so generous, Rose. Thank you.”

She smiles. “You never ask for anything, Parker. So count on it. I figure if you’re calling me about this, it matters.”

“It does,” I say, and this time it’s harder to hide the truth behind it.

“She gives me a softer look. Not pity, not suspicion—the kind of familiarity that only comes from being in each other’s lives for a long time, even if we eventually drifted apart. Rose and I still care about each other. Just not like that.”

“Then it’s a done deal.”

Relief washes over me, tangled with a weird twist of guilt. I thank her, and she waves it off with a smirk.

“Just make sure it doesn’t suck. My followers will know.”