Song for this chapter: Abe Parker - Butterflies on the multimedia.

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Sign

It was finally June 25, the day False Play would hit theatres worldwide. The anticipation had been building for weeks, and tonight was the big premiere. Linc had been quieter than usual, more focused, and I could tell the weight of this night was pressing on him. It wasn't just another premiere—it was the culmination of months of hard work, the story he'd poured himself into, and tonight, the world would finally see it.

Ivy couldn't come, of course. The movie wasn't meant for her age group, not with its action sequences and intense moments. So, Merly had graciously offered to take her somewhere fun for the evening—something light and playful, where Ivy could enjoy herself without a second thought. It was a relief knowing she'd be in good hands, and as much as I hated being away from her, I was excited to be there for Linc.

Stepping out of the car onto the red carpet felt surreal. The lights were blinding, cameras flashing in every direction, catching every moment as it happened. Reporters and fans lined the edges, calling out to the actors as they arrived, their energy electric. I held onto Linc's arm, feeling slightly out of place in this glamorous world of movie stars. This wasn't my scene. I was used to being behind the camera, documenting the world around me, not standing in the spotlight. But tonight wasn't about me. Tonight was about Linc.

"Ready?" Linc asked, his voice low but steady, though I could hear the underlying tension in it. He was always so composed, but I knew him well enough to recognize the subtle hints of nervousness that lingered beneath the surface.

I nodded, squeezing his arm. "I'm ready."

We moved down the carpet, passing by photographers shouting his name, fans waving, and cast members who greeted him with enthusiasm. Nat was already there, standing under the glowing marquee. She looked stunning, as always, her natural poise and elegance making her seem completely at ease in this environment. She caught sight of us, and we exchanged polite smiles. There was no tension, just a quiet understanding. We hadn't spoken much since the wedding, but tonight wasn't the time for personal conversations.

As we approached the main entrance, I caught snippets of conversations around us—journalists discussing the film, fans talking excitedly about the trailers they'd seen, the buzz of excitement palpable. This wasn't just a movie premiere. It felt like an event, something bigger than just two hours on a screen. And despite my initial unease, I couldn't help but feel proud of Linc.

Inside, the theatre was magnificent. Plush velvet seats, gilded fixtures, and a massive screen loomed ahead of us, waiting to bring False Play to life. The entire cast was here, along with industry insiders, critics, and special guests, all buzzing with excitement. I glanced over at Linc. He had settled into his seat beside me, his jaw clenched ever so slightly.

The lights dimmed, and the crowd quieted as the screen flickered to life. The film opened with a fast-paced action sequence, and I found myself immediately pulled into the world Linc had created. He was brilliant. His character, Garsino, was intense, brooding, and yet undeniably captivating. Watching him in that role, on that massive screen, made me see him in a whole new light. He wasn't just Linc—he was a leading man, commanding attention with every look, every line.

The movie moved seamlessly between heart-pounding action and quieter, more intimate moments. I could see why people were already calling it a blockbuster before it had even premiered. The chemistry between Linc and Nat's characters was palpable, their on-screen relationship filled with tension and intrigue. And despite knowing it was all acting, it still made my stomach flutter to see him in those scenes. It was a reminder that this was his world, and I was just visiting.

As the credits began to roll, the audience erupted into applause, and I turned to Linc. His face was calm, but I could see the relief in his eyes, the satisfaction of having brought something this monumental to life. He glanced at me, and for a moment, it felt like it was just the two of us in that theatre.

"You were incredible," I whispered, my voice full of pride.

He smiled, a rare, genuine smile that softened his usually serious features. "Thanks for being here," he said quietly, his hand finding mine.

After the screening, there was a reception—champagne flowing, cast and crew mingling with guests, all while the press circled like hawks, snapping pictures and trying to get interviews. Linc was pulled away almost immediately, whisked into conversations with producers, journalists, and fans eager to congratulate him. I stood on the periphery, sipping my drink, feeling like an outsider once again. This was his moment, his night, and I was happy to support him from the sidelines.

At one point, Nat came over, her expression warm but professional. "Quite the night, huh?" she said, her tone light.

"Yeah, it's... a lot," I admitted with a small laugh, glancing around at the crowd.

"You get used to it," she replied, her eyes scanning the room before landing on Linc, who was deep in conversation across the room. "He did great tonight. You both did."

I nodded, appreciating her words. "He really did."

As the night wore on, I found myself drifting between conversations, smiling politely, but always keeping an eye on Linc. This world of premieres, of glitzy parties and industry schmoozing—it wasn't mine. But seeing Linc shine tonight made it worth it. He had worked so hard, poured himself into this project, and it was clear from the way people spoke about him that he had made an impact.

By the time we finally left the theatre, stepping back out into the cool night air, I felt a strange mix of exhaustion and exhilaration. Linc was quiet beside me, his hand resting lightly on my back as we made our way to the car. The premiere had been a success, but more than that, I knew how much it had meant to him.

As we drove home, the city lights flashing by, I couldn't help but smile to myself. I might not belong in the world of Hollywood premieres and red carpets, but tonight had been something special. Not because of the glitz and glamour, but because I got to see Linc at his best, doing what he was meant to do. And I was there to witness it all.

When we finally got home, the quiet of the apartment was a stark contrast to the noise and excitement of the premiere. As soon as I stepped inside, my thoughts immediately went to Ivy. I made my way to her room, carefully opening the door. The soft glow of her nightlight illuminated her tiny figure, tucked peacefully beneath her blankets. My heart swelled at the sight of her serene face, her chest rising and falling in a gentle rhythm as she slept. I leaned down and kissed her forehead, whispering, "Good night, my love," before quietly leaving her room.

After a long night, all I wanted was to wash off the makeup and unwind. The warmth of the shower was soothing, washing away the tension of the day. Once I was done, I changed into my pajamas and settled into bed, feeling the soft sheets against my skin. My mind drifted back to the premiere, the glow of the screen, and Linc's presence on it. I still couldn't believe the way he commanded the screen, the way he was so different from the quiet, guarded man I lived with.

As I was about to drift off, I heard a soft knock on the door. My heart skipped for a second. Ever since we started living together, Linc had never come to my room. It was always me who went to his, for Ivy's sake, to keep up the pretense that we were a normal, happy couple. But tonight, something was different. The door creaked open, and there he was, standing in the dim light.

Without a word, Linc walked over to the bed, slipping in beside me. My heart raced as he wrapped his arms around me from behind, pulling me close. His embrace was warm, comforting, and strangely vulnerable. This wasn't the Linc I had come to expect—the distant, brooding man who rarely spoke his mind. Tonight, he was different.

"Thank you," he whispered against my ear, his voice soft and full of emotion. "For marrying me... for living with me... and for giving me a chance to be part of your life. Ivy's life. Even when I forced you into all of this, even though I was an ass the whole time... thank you."

His words took me by surprise, and for a moment, I wasn't sure how to respond. Linc rarely expressed himself like this, and hearing him open up, admit his faults, and show gratitude—it was overwhelming. I had been waiting for this moment, for him to see me not just as someone he had to tolerate, but as someone he wanted in his life.

I shifted slightly in his arms, turning my head to glance at him over my shoulder. "Linc..." I whispered, unsure of what to say. My heart was full, and for the first time in a long while, I felt like I could breathe a little easier around him. He had let his walls down, even if just for tonight.

I laid my hand gently over his, holding onto him as he held onto me. "I'm happy you're here," I finally said, my voice soft but steady. "I'm happy we're here."

For the first time, I felt like we weren't just pretending for Ivy's sake. We were sharing something real, however fragile it might be. His presence beside me, his honesty, his rare moment of vulnerability—it was everything I hadn't known I needed. And in that moment, as we lay there together, I realized that maybe, just maybe, things could change between us.

With Linc's arms still around me, I closed my eyes, feeling a deep sense of peace I hadn't felt in a long time. Maybe tonight was the start of something new.