Page 101 of Deacon

It was plain to see that the freakin’ affair was on-brand for Max, showy and over the top.

No one doubted he was dedicated to his acting career, pouring his energy into every character, press tour, and publicity campaign.

He lived for the fame.

When Max proposed to me several years ago during a trip to Japan, he made sure it happened in front of a gaggle of influencers.

He’d dropped to one knee as cameras flashed through the historic streets of Kyoto.

‘She’s so stunning under the cherry blossoms that I had to claim her,’ he told the press afterward.

Our wedding in Milan had been no different.

Max insisted on a designer spectacle.

He filled the courtyard with A-list directors, European pop stars, and high-fashion elites, turning our vows into a media circus.

We’d married under a storm of flashbulbs. I wore a custom couture dress, smiled for the cameras, and felt like a prop.

Our photos leaked the next day, and I was certain Max had arranged it.

They appeared on international front pages and in a multi-page Vogue spread.

That same energy seeped into our marriage.

Max thrived in the limelight, while I longed to disappear into the background.

For his latest film, he wanted me to appear in a photo shoot with him in Lake Como, but I declined. I wasn’t willing to be arm candy while he worked the cameras.

Now he was the talk of the town, trending on each gossip site and appearing in every magazine.

I even wondered whether he was now using the notoriety to drum up future work.

My heart twisted with bitterness as the veneer of our marriage cracked.

How had I been so blind?

In the pool, Raff and Deacon raced backstroke.

I smiled as they fought for the lead, tearing through the water with Deacon refusing to let Raff win.

Deacon was Max’s complete opposite, and an incredible dad.

I hadn’t spent enough time with him over the past few years to see how he parented, and now I did.

He had chores, play, fun, and discipline down and under control.

He also provided security, stability, genuine presence, and companionship.

So much so that, despite my fury at Max, I didn’t miss my husband; hell, the impending collapse of my second marriage wasn’t breaking my spirit.

With every passing minute, I realized my affection for Max had been a massive mistake.

I knew where my devotion belonged: with Raff, first and foremost.

Perhaps with Deacon, too.

Still, my unraveling current marriage remained a storm I had to navigate.