Chapter 2: Scripted Betrayal

The plot should’ve fallen apart the moment I met Caleb.

In the original story, I was supposed to be the real son of the Reed family—snatched away at birth, raised poor in some dusty town until my cheapskate dad found me. Our first meeting was meant to be at the wedding.

But reality? I was the adopted son of Savannah’s richest man, raised in luxury since childhood. The Reed family was just small-town gossip—something whispered over sweet tea at the Fourth of July parade.

And on my twenty-second birthday, I met my legendary fiancé—Caleb.

Thinking about it, Caleb must have caught on early. Otherwise, how could he have a marriage contract with me and the Reed family at the same time?

The script was already broken from the start.

“Babe, I kicked him out. Praise me!”

I snapped out of my spiral. Ryan was already gone, driven from the house.

Caleb practically vibrated with excitement, eyes wide, like he was waiting for me to throw a ball.

I pointed at the live chat in front of me, and he immediately started sucking on my finger.

“Babe’s fingers are long and pretty, soft and sweet. Delicious.”

Me: “….”

He was ridiculous. His whole brain was one big, messy crush.

He looked at me with that eager-puppy stare, eyes bright and jaw slack—like the golden boy quarterback at homecoming, charming everyone but too dumb to know it.

“I didn’t tell you to eat it. Look—what’s there?”

Caleb blinked. “Babe’s cute little fingers.”

So he can’t see the live chat. If Caleb couldn’t see the chat, what did he know? Was he just playing along, or was he in on the whole script?

A flood of questions hit me all at once, and after being temporarily marked just now, my head throbbed, like I’d downed too much bourbon at a college tailgate.

“Babe, you have a fever.”

Caleb panicked, rushing to get Tylenol and a bottle of water. He tore through the medicine cabinet like a tornado, nearly knocking over the family-sized bottle of Advil. His panic was both absurd and endearing.

I lay on the bed, staring at Ryan’s incoming call on my phone, realizing the important plot points wouldn’t change. No matter the method, every twist was designed to pull Ryan and the main lead together.

The novel had just begun, and Caleb was still playing his role: stubborn but soft-hearted, headed straight for the wife-chasing hell arc. The push and pull with Ryan was inevitable. Annoying.

After a while, Caleb still hadn’t returned, but I could hear arguing downstairs.

Somehow, Ryan had come back again, face blotchy, hugging his knees on the couch, eyes darting to the front door like he was waiting for someone to rescue him.

The peach scent was too thick, too sweet—like someone had broken open a dozen air freshener cans and let them loose.

Caleb stood over him, veins bulging as he tried to hold himself back.

[@ClaimHim: What are you waiting for? Just claim him already!]

[@OmegaSympathizer: Second lead cares too much about Ryan, he won’t do it.]

[@SuppressantDealer: If he won’t, at least give him a suppressant!]

[@BlameSideChar: It’s the side character’s fault. Second lead can’t bear to act.]

[@NotHisSpouse: If not for him, Ryan would be the legal spouse.]

The live chat was arguing nonstop. I was too tired to listen.

Caleb noticed me, panic flashing in his eyes.

“Babe, why did you come out?”

“I was thirsty, just came for water.”

I padded across the hardwood, feet chilled by the cool planks. The house always felt too big, too full of echoes.

“Babe, go back to your room and lie down, okay? I’ll bring it up right away.”

Glancing at Ryan, who looked like he was searching for a way out, I turned and went back to my room.

The fever was getting worse. Drowsy and confused, I thought I heard Caleb talking—his voice low, muffled by the walls. I could barely make out the words, but Ryan’s name drifted up clear as day.