The phone vibrated in his hand, and he immediately tensed, already braced for Liam’s reply. Instead, the name flashing across the screen froze him colder than ice. Caroline.
He wasn’t at the house. He’d left at four that morning for a sunrise shoot—a scene Liam wasn’t in—and had been on set when everything detonated online. Afterwards, he holed up in his trailer, unwilling to face what waited for him at home.
He dragged in a slow breath, forcing calm into his voice before picking up. “Good morning.”
“I saw the video.” Caroline’s tone was steady, composed as always, but he could hear the strain under it.
“It was a scene.” The words came out sharper than he intended.
A careful pause followed, the kind of silence he knew well. He could almost see her on the other end, spine straight, weighing her words with practiced precision.
“I know that,” she said at last, quiet but firm. “But it didn’t look like one, and that matters. People are already speculating.”
Jacob rubbed a hand over his face, exhaustion pressing behind his eyes. “They speculate about everything. It’ll pass.”
“Maybe for you,” Caroline said gently, “but Liam is more vulnerable. They won’t be as forgiving with him.”
The reminder struck harder than she knew, guilt tightening like a vice in his chest. He’d thought of nothing else. “I know.”
Her voice stayed careful, almost neutral. “Your team wants you quiet for now. That’s probably right, but if this escalates, we’ll have to act. People trust you, Jacob. We can spin this if we have to.”
He heard what she didn’t say—her faith in their marriage was stronger than the whispers online, stronger than the noise. Caroline always understood what mattered, and she trusted him not to let them falter. She was unshakable, a woman who would guard her family fiercely and give everything for her children.
“I won’t let it get there,” he said firmly. He said it like a promise, but it felt like a lie the moment it left his mouth.
“Good.” Relief edged her voice. “We’re in this together. I trust you.”
The words hit like a stone in his chest. He hadn’t earned that trust—not with the lies he was carrying around lately. But he couldn’t bring himself to shatter her faith now.
“Thank you,” he said, the words tasting hollow.
“See you tonight?”
“Of course.”
She hung up first, leaving him in the hush of the trailer. His shoulders ached from the effort of holding himself upright.
When the phone buzzed again, Liam’s name lit up the screen.
Liam:I don’t know.
Jacob’s heart kicked. He could see the fear in those three words, the uncertainty Liam couldn’t hide. Jacob hated himself for letting it get this far. Liam was still young; Jacob should have known better by now. He should have been the wall between them, the one to hold steady when Liam couldn’t. His fingers moved quickly, forcing detachment into the reply.
Me:Lay low. It’ll pass.
Liam:Will it?
Jacob’s jaw clenched. His thumb hovered uselessly over the letters, a hundred words tumbling through his mind that he couldn’t afford to send. He wanted to promise Liam safety, something that sounded like truth, but nothing he wrote could be trusted. At last, he typed the only thing that kept the mask intact.
Me:It has to.
He set the phone down harder than he meant to and turned away before he could give in to the impulse to say more. He told himself he hadn’t lost control, that he was still the man who could draw the line and hold it, but he knew the truth—Liam had pulled the ground out from under him, and pretending otherwise wouldn’t erase the all-consuming need Liam had somehow managed to ignite.
A knock came before he could gather himself. He didn’t lift his head. “Come in.”
Ellen stepped inside and shut the door with a soft click. She crossed her arms and leaned against the wall near the window, her gaze cutting across the space. She didn’t rush to fill the silence, just studied him.
Jacob stayed where he was at the table, phone facedown, shoulders tight, a cup of coffee at his elbow, gone cold hours ago.
