❝𝐀𝐥𝐥 𝐨𝐟 𝐦𝐲 𝐥𝐢𝐟𝐞, 𝐢𝐭'𝐬 𝐛𝐞𝐞𝐧 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐛𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐤 𝐰𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫❞
In which Fallon Moore, a girl from a small town in the west of Ireland, grew up famous she started acting at the age of 3, she was in many famous movies. But acting...
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𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐑𝐓𝐁𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐊 𝐖𝐄𝐀𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐑
07. 𝘚𝘪𝘭𝘦𝘯𝘤𝘦 𝘪𝘴 𝘥𝘦𝘢𝘧𝘦𝘯𝘪𝘯𝘨
Paul and I were in the kitchen, surrounded by the comforting sounds of sizzling pans and bubbling pots. Cooking was something we both loved doing together—it always felt like a small pocket of calm in our busy lives. Tonight was supposed to be fun. We had planned a dinner party with my closest friends—Taylor, Sabrina, Billie, and Niall—and I couldn't wait to catch up with everyone.
"Pass me the salt," Paul said, his voice clipped.
I handed it over, watching his face closely. He'd been unusually quiet all day, and I knew exactly why. Niall.
Paul wasn't exactly subtle. His jabs and passive-aggressive comments had become sharper since the dinner party plans were made. No matter how much I reassured him, his jealousy simmered just beneath the surface.
"You're really quiet," I ventured, trying to keep things light.
"Am I?" he replied, not looking up.
I sighed. "Paul, come on. Are you seriously still upset about Niall?"
"I'm not upset," he said flatly, but the way he banged the pan onto the stovetop said otherwise.
I turned to face him, crossing my arms. "Yes, you are. You've been sulking since I mentioned he was coming. And, honestly, it's getting ridiculous."
Paul finally looked at me, his eyes dark. "Ridiculous? Fallon, you've spent more time with Niall lately than you have with me. You're writing songs with him, texting him, laughing with him—and now you're hosting him at our house. How am I supposed to fucking feel?"
"Like you trust me!" I snapped, my frustration bubbling over. "We've been together for four years, Paul. Four years! Have I ever given you a reason to doubt me?"
"It's not about doubting you," he said, his voice rising. "It's about the way you talk about him. Like he's the only person who god damn understands you."
"That's not true," I said firmly. "You're blowing this out of proportion. For fuck sake!"
Paul shook his head and turned back to the stove, muttering something under his breath.
"What the fuck did you just say?" I demanded, my temper flaring.
He didn't answer, and for a moment, the only sound in the kitchen was the hiss of oil in the pan.
Before I could press him further, the doorbell rang. I took a deep breath, forcing myself to push the argument aside. Tonight wasn't about us. It was about my friends, and I wasn't going to let this ruin it.
