Summer's POV
The silence strategy didn't last long.
By the end of the week, the photo from that late-night walk had appeared on every entertainment feed in the country.
Headlines screamed:
> "Secret Dates Continue — The Real Love Behind the Campaign!"
"Company Reacts to Viral Couple."
Her inbox filled with new contracts, old rumors, and too many messages from her manager, Chloe.
"Summer," Chloe said over the phone, sounding both thrilled and terrified, "your engagement rate is insane. But the company wants to contain the situation before it gets out of hand."
"Contain?" Summer repeated. "What are we, a virus?"
"It's business, honey. You and Ethan are assets. They want clarity."
"Clarity or control?"
There was silence on the other end.
Then Chloe sighed. "Both."
Summer hung up, heart tight.
For the first time in weeks, she felt the invisible hands of the industry closing in again—contracts, expectations, image management.
She thought of Ethan and the quiet comfort of their small moments, how real it had felt before the noise returned.
Was that peace already gone?
---
Ethan's POV
He saw the headlines before his agent called.
The man's voice came through sharp. "Ethan, the board's concerned. You and Summer are merging into a brand, and the press isn't kind to blurred lines. We suggest you both keep a professional distance for a while."
"Professional distance," Ethan repeated, flatly.
"Yes. No more public outings. No social appearances together. At least until the next campaign cools off."
Ethan leaned back in his chair, staring out at the gray skyline. "You mean pretend she doesn't exist."
"That's not what I said."
"It's what you meant."
He ended the call before he could say something worse.
For a long time he sat there, watching the clouds press against the glass. The city looked different when you were told to hide your truth.
He missed the island—the storms had been simpler there.
---
Summer's POV
Chloe came over that afternoon, armed with iced coffee and PR documents.
"They're asking for a cooling period," she said carefully. "A few weeks apart. No photos, no interviews, no public comments. It'll make the heat fade faster."
Summer laughed, a sharp, humorless sound. "You make it sound like a breakup."
"It's not," Chloe said. "It's strategy."
Summer stared at the stack of papers. The irony wasn't lost on her—how easily they could edit reality with contracts and press releases.
"What happens if we say no?" she asked quietly.
Chloe hesitated. "Then they'll decide for you."
---
Ethan's POV
He didn't text her that night, though he wanted to.
He typed and deleted messages until dawn.
> Are you okay?
Did they call you too?
I hate this silence.
He never sent any of them.
Instead, he opened his window and watched the city lights flicker, wondering which one belonged to her apartment.
Somewhere in the distance, a drone buzzed—news media, probably still chasing shadows of them.
He smiled bitterly. "Let them look," he muttered. "They'll never see what's real."
---
Summer's POV
She tried to follow the "cooling period."
Tried to stay busy.
She went to meetings, smiled for cameras, posted brand updates without emotion.
But every empty space in her schedule echoed with his absence.
Even the city seemed to remind her—every billboard, every headline.
His face was everywhere, and yet she couldn't see him.
That night, she sat by the window, scrolling through her phone.
She stopped at an old photo—the one from the island, both of them laughing, half-covered in sand.
She didn't post it.
She just stared at it until her eyes stung.
---
Ethan's POV
Three days passed before he saw her again.
Not in person—on TV.
An entertainment host flashed her picture on-screen, smiling too brightly.
> "Summer Hayes declined to comment on her rumored romance with co-star Ethan Reid. However, insiders say the two remain close."
He almost laughed.
Remain close.
If only they knew how far apart silence could feel.
His phone buzzed—a message from a private number.
> Summer: "They said we should disappear. So let's."
Ethan: "Disappear where?"
Summer: "Somewhere without cameras."
He smiled, the first real one in days.
> Ethan: "Tell me when. I'll bring coffee."
---
Summer's POV
When the message went through, she exhaled, slow and steady.
Maybe they couldn't control the headlines.
Maybe they couldn't win the PR game.
But at least, for once, they could choose where their story went next.
She closed her phone, looked out at the glittering skyline, and whispered into the night—
not to the cameras, not to the fans,
but to him.
> "See you soon."