Chapter 3

I sat in the hospital for ages, clutching my phone, and finally called Oscar.

A woman answered and told me he was unavailable.

I glanced out the window. The sky was already getting dark. What could he possibly be so busy with at this hour?

I went home and waited for ages. He did come back, eventually.

He looked completely wiped out, and he couldn't even hide how tired he was.

My heart ached for him, but I just couldn't shake the thought of that woman who answered his phone earlier.

I asked him about it, and after a moment, he said it was just his assistant.

I couldn't hold back. The words just tumbled out, and even I was shocked at myself. "Your assistant? Are you sleeping with her?"

The look on Oscar's face—he was totally blindsided. I wanted to crawl under a rock.

Before I could stammer an apology, the door slammed. He was gone.

I tried calling, but he'd turned his phone off. I left him messages, but he totally ghosted me.

A few days later, I finally found out where he was hiding and went after him.

I just wanted to say sorry. I wanted to tell him I hadn't meant what I said, that I was not well, and that I was carrying his baby.

I spotted him and rushed over, but then I overheard him talking to someone else, and I froze in my tracks.

"You still taking care of that clingy girl?" the guy asked.

Oscar didn't say a word.

The guy flicked his cigarette. "Oscar, no offense, but you're blowing up right now. If you keep letting her hold you back, you're just closing doors for yourself. Think about it."

I recognized the voice. It was his manager.

Oscar didn't say a word, and that silence said it all.

I turned and walked away.

On my way home, my mind was spinning with all sorts of thoughts.

Oscar was talented and handsome, but I'd been limiting his range. I refused to let him accept any role that involved close scenes with actresses.

He once landed a great supporting role. He was perfect for it, but it meant sharing significant screen time with the female lead.

I threw a huge fit, crying and making a scene, and after that, he never brought up that role again.

Looking back now, I really did hold him back.

But I couldn't bring myself to let him go. I thought maybe we could find a middle ground.

I texted him, asking if we could talk.

This time, he replied: [Okay.]

Before he came back, I spent ages psyching myself up, telling myself over and over not to lose my temper, and even rehearsing what I wanted to say in my head.

Finally, Oscar walked in.

I pressed my lips together and said, "I went to see you today."

He shot me a sharp look, and I bit my lip before continuing, "I overheard you talking to your manager. I..."

He cut me off, "It's over."

I just stared at him, confused. What did he mean?

He let out a heavy sigh. "We should end this."

"Let's break up, Alison," he said.

Before I could find my voice, the door shut behind him.

Even as my heart broke, a small, terrible part of me felt relieved, as if I'd been waiting for the other shoe to drop.

But my tears just wouldn't stop, and I was clutching the report so tightly that the paper got all crumpled up.

"I'll try to understand you. We can make this work," I whispered, finally saying the words he hadn't let me finish—clinging to the fragile hope that it wasn't too late.

"I'm pregnant." I choked out, my voice barely above a whisper.

No one answered. The apartment was so small—smaller than my old bedroom—and so empty that my words just echoed back at me.

Oscar left me pretty much everything he owned.

But he refused to see me. He gave me no chance to change his mind.

Once my pregnancy started to show, I stopped trying to find him and left town.

Sitting on the plane, I rested my hand on my belly, and I had to admit—Oscar's manager was right about me.

I was like clinging ivy. I always needed something to hold onto.

First, it was my father. After my family went bankrupt and he died, I clung to Oscar.

Now that Oscar was gone, all I had left was this little hope growing inside me.

I always needed something, or I felt like I'd wither away.

Oscar pulled me out of my thoughts. "Why did you come on this show? Why not just come to me?"

I met his gaze.

"For the money," I said.

Honestly, I came to find him, hoping to find someone who could give Oliver the future I couldn't.

"I was afraid you'd try to take Oliver from me," I admitted.

With all the gossip about him, I figured he wouldn't want me in his life anymore.

Oscar gave a bitter laugh and turned to leave, but the way his breath hitched gave away how unsteady he really felt.