Chapter 2: The Fiancée on the Screen

Callum called back almost immediately.

"It's just clickbait. Are you seriously throwing a fit over this?"

I zoomed in on the hand holding the water bottle.

"Someone asked if she was your girlfriend. You didn't correct them. You gave them a heart?"

"There are thousands of comments. Do you expect me to reply to every single one and explain?"

"Am I supposed to drop my work?"

"If you're shooting a couple's POV, why didn't you mention a word of it before you left?"

Callum went quiet for two seconds. He flipped the question back on me.

"If I asked you beforehand, would you have agreed?"

"Making you hand me water, hold my hand on camera, doing five takes if the lighting is wrong. You hate that stuff."

"You don't like being on camera. I saved you the trouble."

"Now you're blaming me for not asking. Maren, you get to skip the hassle, and I take the heat. How is that fair?"

He made the decision for me. Then packaged that decision as consideration.

I knew the rules of their industry far too well. Before any official release, any content using a real person's likeness required a signed release form. Anything involving a real relationship required explicit written consent. He wasn't stupid. He knew this.

Before he hung up, he sent a screenshot of a train ticket.

9:00 a.m. Amtrak to Portland on the Fourth of July.

"My mom even made the bed for you."

"Call me when you arrive. I'll definitely pick you up myself. Stop overthinking."

Right after, Callum's mother, Celia, started a video call.

She flipped the camera to show a guest room with pristine white bedding.

"Maren, does the bed look okay to you?"

"I didn't know if you liked a soft or firm mattress, so I added an extra topper."

"Callum said work held you up for a day. That's fine, just get here tomorrow. The whole family is waiting for you."

Callum hadn't told his family why I didn't get in the car.

"Celia, please hold off on telling too many relatives. Let's finalize the schedule when I get there."

"Alright. Whatever you say."

"You're the one Callum is marrying. If we don't wait for you, who else is there?"

That night, Mom stuffed the insulated cooler bag into my suitcase. She gently reminded me not to hold a grudge against Callum.

Seven years was a long time. Everyone dropped the ball occasionally.

I opened the train ticket on my phone, about to confirm the itinerary.

Willa, Miles's girlfriend, sent me a private message.

First, she asked if I was still coming tomorrow.

A long pause followed. Then, another message.

"Maren, I've been holding this in all drive. I just don't think it's right to hide it from you."

She sent several uncut behind-the-scenes clips.

At a rest stop, Callum and Delaney held hands, walking toward the camera.

In another clip, Delaney leaned against the car door. He reached out and tucked a stray strand of hair behind her ear.

During a group photo, Callum's hand rested naturally on her lower back. They stood close, incredibly intimate.

That hand used to protect me, too.

Now, through a screen, I watched the exact same gestures get dissected into camera angles, lighting checks, and final cuts.

Willa sent another text.

Before they started rolling, Delaney had asked a question.

"Should we let Maren know first?"

"If she sees this, it's going to break her heart."

Callum was tweaking his camera settings.

"She hates being on camera. If I tell her, she'll just think it's a hassle."

"We shoot it now. Show her the final cut later."

He knew I would care.

But my feelings weren't worth a five-minute conversation before departure.

I called Callum. I played the audio from the clips on my tablet, letting it feed directly into the phone.

The second the background music hit, he recognized it.

"Did Willa send that to you?"

"Who sent it doesn't matter."

"The hand-holding, the waist-grabbing, you fixing her hair. Delete all of it."

"We shot for a whole day. If I delete it now, this entire road trip was for nothing."

"Maren, this is a job."

"Can you stop being so emotional? Don't force me to tank the entire team's work just to coddle you."

I gripped my phone tight.

"What exactly are you shooting?"

He didn't answer right away.

Willa's final message came through. It was a picture of the daily call sheet.

Project Title: Photographer Takes Fiancée Back to Hometown.

The cast relationship was written in plain ink. Callum, and his fiancée—played by Delaney.

I forwarded the call sheet to him.

His silence stretched longer than before.

I stared at the word "Fiancée."

"She's playing your fiancée."

"When I show up tomorrow, am I playing a guest? Or a bitter ex crashing the party?"