Chapter 2
Series 1 Chapter 2
The next morning, Julian walked me to the car like he always did.
“Come straight home after your appointment.”
“I have a meeting at ten.”
He said it so casually.
And I nodded like I always had.
Only after the car pulled out of the neighborhood did I ask the driver to stop.
Ten minutes later, I saw Julian’s car pass on another road.
He wasn’t going to the office.
He was heading to Chloe’s apartment building.
I didn’t hesitate.
I followed him.
Eighteenth floor.
The door wasn’t fully closed.
Chloe’s voice drifted out from inside.
“Is Elena really planning to start writing again?”
Julian answered calmly.
“She won’t.”
“But didn’t she always want to be a screenwriter?”
A brief silence.
Then Julian said,
“That was before.”
“She has a family now. And a baby on the way.”
Chloe asked,
“Then what happens later?”
Julian gave a quiet laugh.
“What’s there to figure out?”
“She writes.”
“You stay in front of the cameras.”
“I sell the projects.”
“Isn’t that how we’ve always done it?”
My hand froze on the doorknob.
That was enough.
More than enough.
I pushed the door open.
The room went silent.
Chloe was sitting on the couch.
A printed script lay open in front of her.
The Forgotten.
Julian sat beside her.
His arm was still resting behind her waist.
They were sitting far too close.
There was nothing left to explain.
The color drained from Chloe’s face.
“Elena?”
Julian stiffened too.
But only for a second.
Then his expression hardened.
“You followed me?”
I looked at him.
“Did you download my script last night?”
Silence.
He didn’t deny it.
I asked again.
“Why?”
Julian said nothing for a few seconds.
Then something in his face changed.
As if he had finally decided there was no point pretending anymore.
“Chloe needed a polished script for her new project.”
“Yours was ready.”
I almost laughed.
“So you just took it?”
“We were only going to use it.”
“With her name on it?”
Julian’s patience was visibly thinning.
“Does the name really matter that much?”
That hurt more than anything I had seen on his phone.
I stared at him.
“Say that again.”
“Elena.”
He stood.
“You’re not some twenty-two-year-old fresh out of school anymore.”
“You’re married. You’re pregnant.”
“Do you honestly plan to go back into production, work late every night, rewrite scenes on demand, and fight people for jobs?”
His eyes flicked toward Chloe.
“Chloe is younger.”
“She knows how to network. She knows how to deal with the press.”
“She’s better suited to being the face of the work.”
I looked at him.
“And what am I supposed to be?”
Julian answered as if it were obvious.
“You write.”
“She sells it.”
“What’s the difference?”
And suddenly, I understood.
He had never been worried about me being tired.
He had never been protecting our family.
He needed me to stay home.
Because as long as I stayed out of sight,
anything I wrote could exist without my name attached to it.
Chloe stood and came toward me.
“Elena, please don’t do this.”
“Julian is only trying to do what’s best for everyone.”
I turned to her.
“What did you mean last night?”
She blinked.
“What?”
“Same credit as before.”
The blood drained from her face.
I took one step closer.
“What happened before?”
Chloe opened her mouth.
Nothing came out.
Julian immediately stepped between us.
“That’s enough.”
“You’re emotional right now.”
“Go home.”
I looked at him.
And almost laughed.
Even now,
he still believed all he had to do was tell me to calm down,
and I would back off like I always had.
I took out my phone.
“Julian.”
“I want a divorce.”
Chloe’s head snapped up.
Julian laughed.
“A divorce?”
Like I had said something ridiculous.
“Elena, you’re carrying my child.”
“You haven’t worked in five years.”
“You have no income. No projects of your own.”
He stepped closer.
“Where exactly do you think you’re going without me?”
I looked at him.
I didn’t argue.
I didn’t cry.
I simply picked up the copy of The Forgotten from the table.
“You are not using this script.”
Julian gave a cold laugh.
“You really think anyone is going to believe you?”
I paused.
Then met his eyes.
“Let’s find out.”
I turned and walked out.
Behind me, Julian’s voice followed me into the hall.
“Elena.”
“Stop threatening me with divorce.”
I kept walking.
Because this time,
it wasn’t a threat.