Chapter 58. Support Without Ownership

The next morning, sunlight filtered in through the slatted blinds just as Max slid open his laptop. His inbox greeted him like a tidal wave—dozens of messages vying for attention, subject lines flickering with bolded urgency. Requests. Panels. Profiles. Every ping felt like someone reaching out to grab a piece of him.

Editors wanted glossy “power-couple” spreads, producers pitched glossy panels on “Partnership and Success,” and one overeager reporter even floated a saccharine, behind-the-scenes feature on “how they made it work.” The tones varied—some were polite, others almost pleading—but all shared the same ravenous undercurrent: they wanted access, a headline, the myth of balance, brilliance, and romantic resilience under pressure.

He skimmed each email carefully, methodically, eyes flicking over the words. Then, in a single, deliberate motion, he highlighted them all and pressed delete. No statements. No comments. No spin.

By the time he set the laptop aside,