Everyone Shipped Me With The Wrong Man

I thought Eddie was going to give the bracelet back to me, but he said it belonged to someone else.

Now it was on Bella's wrist.

"Don't argue with him," Bella said in front of the camera. "I want you two to be happy more than anyone."

I said nothing.

Eddie didn't know.

There was another reason I agreed to join this show, something I could never say out loud.

In truth, I wasn't here for Eddie at all.

Filming took place over the weekend.

On Monday at work, my former boss told me, "Logan and Bella are already divorced. He was on a ten-year contract with her father's company, and it finally ended. He's rebuilding his studio, and I recommended you to him."

I used to work as an agent in an entertainment group.

Following the address she gave me, I went to the studio and saw Logan.

Set against the light, his sharp features were highlighted. It was indeed a face made for the screen, and he looked far more distant than I had imagined.

I waited outside for a long time.

In the end, it was his assistant, Conrad Lowe, who came out. "Sorry, Ms. Stout. We probably can't proceed today."

At 11:00 pm, on the way back, my car broke down. It was raining in the middle of nowhere. I held my umbrella and waited for a tow truck.

Suddenly, a black MPV pulled up, and the window rolled down. Conrad said, "Ms. Stout, please get in first."

Logan was in the back seat with a baseball cap covering his face. He seemed to be asleep.

His breathing was light, and his long legs were slightly bent. The clean scent of pine lingered in the air.

"Ms. Stout, I'm going to the gas station up ahead to grab a bottle of water. I'll be right back," Conrad said softly.

As soon as the door closed, only Logan and I were left in the car.

There were no cameras or staff; only dim light flickered through the dashboard.

Even though we were a seat apart, his breathing felt as if it were right beside my ear.

Outside, faint blue light came from a convenience store where Conrad was browsing the shelves.

Just then, someone in the car kicked my calf.

The long leg stretching from the backseat wasn’t an accident but an intentional, petty, almost childish, rhythmic prodding.

I pulled my legs back, well out of his reach.

I didn't say a single word, nor did I turn around. I just stayed exactly as I was, pretending that nothing had happened.

"Alisson Stout." Logan finally spoke.

Maybe because he had just woken up, he carried that reckless streak of his. "Long time no see."

It had been many years.

Why did he still insist on saying my name like that?

Just like he used to in that cramped, humid apartment, where I drowned in his warmth over and over again, yielding to his gentle yet restless, unbridled movements.

…

After that day, Logan and I didn't speak again.

Not until the next weekend rolled around.

The reality show's live stream operated on a rotation system. This weekend, we were supposed to switch back to the original married couples.

"Mr. Jackson," Bella said, her tone dripping with sweet professionalism, as if she only had the show's best interests at heart.

"Eddie and I have so much hype right now. If you switch us back now, the audience is going to roast you."

The director, Louie Jackson, hesitated. "But—"

"Eddie." Bella turned around. "What do you think?"

Right in front of me, she asked him, "Who are you choosing tonight?"

She had been waiting for this exact moment.

The more scandalous a thing was, the more desperately it craved public validation.

Eddie knew exactly what Bella was playing at.

He cast a deliberate glance my way, then leaned back into his chair. "Is that even a question? No one wants to see her anyway."

Having secured the answer she wanted, Bella turned her gaze back to me.

"Alisson, you don't mind, do you? Then again, you've been a housewife for a long time. You probably don't understand how this works. Audience preference is everything. You should think about the bigger pict—"

"Okay." My response was sharp and immediate.