Chapter 1

The second that photo of my husband, Edward Shaw, with his arm around that actress on the street went viral, my notifications blew up. The internet trolls were having a field day.

[Gotta hand it to her. Marrying rich really means putting up with anything. Give it an hour, and she'll post some weak denial.]

[A gold-digger who hit the jackpot? Yeah, right, she's never leaving that money.]

Everyone expected me to keep playing the role of the tolerant, understanding wife, just as I always had.

But not this time. This time, I just posted three simple sentences. [Edward and I are divorced. We've gone our separate ways. Wishing us both peace and new beginnings.]

*****

On stage, the spotlight was all mine. I bowed deeply to the audience, soaking in the moment.

Back in the dressing room, we started chatting as I took off my makeup.

"Thirteen cities in six months. Finally done. Julia, isn't it better to just enjoy the good, luxurious life at home? Why go through all this exhausting touring with us?" one of the girls asked.

Before I could say anything, Jessica Sanders jumped in with her usual sharp sarcasm, "Good, luxurious life? Julia's been given a role that requires a very special kind of gift.

"She puts up with her husband's affairs and still sits here talking about artistic passion. Now that's some tolerance, huh."

Jessica always acted like she was better than everyone simply because she was older. I was originally the second female lead, but after my performance went viral in the first three shows, we ended up switching roles.

Just as she finished, another young actress chimed in, pretending to be innocent, "Didn't Mr. Shaw send Julia flowers before the show? Check this out."

She pulled up her phone to show a new post from Chloe Lane, a famous actress, standing in front of a huge bouquet. The caption read: [Someone said I don't need a special occasion to receive flowers.]

"Doesn't that bouquet look familiar? Just like the one Julia got, but way bigger," the actress added.

The dressing room went quiet. Everyone looked from the actress' phone to me, their eyes full of sympathy.

Jessica smirked, raising her voice. "Well, Julia, looks like you'll have to be the bigger person now. She then turned to that actress and continued, "Alright, put your phone away. If Julia herself isn't bothered, why are you all making a fuss?"

She'd always believed I stole her role, and now she'd finally found the perfect jab.

Just as Jessica finished, the dressing room door burst open. My college friend, Stella Hughes, swept in, bringing in a chill. Her sharp eyes took everything in at a glance.

She sat down beside me, sneering at Jessica, "Jessica, seems like you care more about other people's drama than your own acting. All those years, but not a shred of improvement in your craft."

Jessica was too furious to find words to retort. She spun around and stormed out of the dressing room.

"You just let her walk all over you like that?" Stella looked at me, frustrated and angry.

"We see each other every day. Gotta keep up appearances," I said, slowly wiping off my foundation with a cotton pad, my voice flat.

"Appearances?" Stella scoffed, her temper flaring. "You're always worrying about appearances. When has she ever cared about that?"

She shoved her phone in my face.

Two glaring red "Trending" hashtags, [Edward Shaw and Chloe Lane Caught Hugging in Public], and [Edward's Wife Got Chloe's Cast-Off Flowers], jumped out from the screen.

Everyone around whipped out their phones to check, whispering to each other as they started leaving the dressing room.

My heart suddenly tightened, like an invisible hand was squeezing it hard. Just then, my phone lit up with Edward's call. I hesitated for seconds before picking up.

"You're back," he said, his voice as flat as ever.

"Yes," I replied, nodding even though he couldn't see me.

"Where are you?" he asked.

"Riverside Playhouse," I replied.

"Mom wants us to pick up Jules and bring him home," he said.

Jules was our five-year-old son.

I paused for a moment, and then spoke clearly and calmly, "No need. I'll go. You don't have to make the trip."

"Meet you in half an hour," Edward said, in that usual tone that left no room for argument. Then, before I could even respond, he hung up.

*****

Stella's car was parked by the curb. There was hardly anyone around. We stood there, smoking quietly, and the silence made my mind drift back to the past.

Edward did love me once.

It was when I was nineteen that I first met Edward.

Back then, my classmates and I were up on stage, rehearsing like crazy, and Edward was in the front row, the only one watching.

For those months he was after me, I was basically the main character in his story.

He'd talk to me on the phone till midnight, go out of his way to take me everywhere, and pull out all the stops with romantic surprises. He did all those things just to see me smile, and to know that smile was only for him.

Stella and Edward were close, and she kept warning me, "Ever since I met him, he's never stuck with just one woman. Julia, nobody gets to be the exception with Edward."

At first, I actually listened to her and kept my distance from Edward for a while.

But Edward wouldn't let up. He'd appear without fail, playing the sympathy card, whining about a stomachache just so I'd have dinner with him.

At the restaurant, I was all set to end things for good. I kept my distance and said, "Mr. Shaw, thank you for your affection, but I know you have so many girls in your life.

"I don't want to be just another name on your list. We shouldn't see each other anymore."

Edward handed me his phone. Seeing that I wasn't moved, he dropped it right into his water without a second thought. "Julia, you're the only one I want," he said.

That kind of young love was fierce and all-consuming. After that, Stella's warnings became background noise. I plunged headlong into his affection, not realizing I was already in over my head until it was far too late to swim back.

When we graduated from college, Edward and I had a huge, over-the-top wedding.

The ten years from my nineteenth to my twenty-ninth birthday were defined by Edward. They were a messy, decade-long knot of love and resentment.

As I looked back now, all that sweetness and the way he loved me were a poison I brewed for myself.