We had met two years before that at a charity technology summit where I was working event logistics and he arrived late, tired, and bored with the spectacle surrounding his name.
He was not what the press made him.
He was quieter, sharper, gentler when no one was looking.
He listened.
He remembered details.
He asked me questions no one in his world had ever bothered to ask.
I knew exactly who he was, of course.
Everyone did.
Colton Hayes, eldest son of Walter Hayes, future face of Hayes Global, the family conglomerate spread across finance, manufacturing, hospitality, and media.
The kind of last name that opened doors before people even knew whether you deserved to walk through them.
What I did not understand then was how heavy a name like that could be on the people born inside it.
Colton fell in love with me faster than I trusted and I fell in love with him slower than he deserved.
When we married, it was in a courthouse with two friends, one gold band each, and an optimism that now feels almost painful to remember.
He said he wanted one thing in his life that belonged only to him.
For a little
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