Chapter 1

Ten minutes before the Best Actor award was announced, Edward Blake walked onto the red carpet, holding Vivian Lane's hand. The camera flashes were blinding, like a sudden blizzard.

The host spotted me standing solo by the signature wall and, with a smile, thrust the mic my way. "Charlotte, why are you entering alone tonight? Isn't Mr. Blake with you?"

Before I could speak, Vivian turned her head and smiled softly into the microphone. "She's just the stand-in for the sister role in Edward's films. Don't get the wrong idea, everyone."

The crowd fell silent for a moment, but the sound of camera shutters quickly filled the air again. Edward didn't correct her. He just caught Vivian's wrist as she tripped on her gown and murmured, "Careful."

I looked down and opened the trophy box in my hands. It was a keepsake box, sent ahead by the organizers to the guest tables, lined with black velvet. In the center, an empty space waited for tonight's winner.

I slipped the wedding ring off my finger and dropped it in. The ring hit the velvet without a sound, but I could hear the last of my hope hit the ground with it.

Five years ago, when Edward slipped that ring on, he promised, "Charlotte, the moment I win my first major film award, I'll introduce you to the world."

Since then, he'd picked up Best New Director, Best Screenplay, and the Grand Jury Prize. Every single time, he told me it "wasn't the right moment."

Tonight marked the fifth year.

*****

I had come with the ring and the signed divorce papers, waiting for him to finally go public. Instead, he'd walked past every lens holding Vivian's hand.

I didn't grab the mic. I didn't ask why. I just snapped the box shut and handed it to Sophie Summers. "Release it as planned."

Sophie glanced toward the end of the red carpet, her eyes smoldering with rage. "Now?"

"Now," I replied.

She nodded and turned to leave. Three minutes later, my statement announcing my departure from the industry went out. Simultaneously, a digital copy of the divorce settlement landed in the inbox of Edward's studio.

I took my seat in the back row as gasps began to ripple through the venue. On the big screen, the nominee highlights were rolling. They showed the final scene of South of the Snowline, starring Edward.

In the shot, Vivian turned back through the gale as Edward held an umbrella over her. That scene wasn't supposed to be hers. In the original script, the female lead was meant to cross the snowline alone, catching sight of a distant, glowing light.

I spent three sleepless nights in my cramped apartment, drawing up six different storyboards for Edward. He said, "This scene is the soul of the film."

Later, when Vivian staged her comeback, she said her biggest fear was standing alone in the snow.

So, Edward changed the scene to have the male lead chase after her. He took a story about "a woman finally moving on from waiting" and turned it into "a man finally learning to look back."

"Don't you think the vibe has changed?" I asked him then.

Edward was busy picking out a gala dress for Vivian. He didn't even look up. "Movies need an audience. Charlotte, you need to stop letting your personal feelings color your work."

I stood in the doorway of the walk-in closet, still clutching his mother's follow-up medical report.

That day, his mother had finished her check-up only to wake up at 2:00 AM in agonizing pain. I was the one who drove her to the hospital.

Edward had been on set with Vivian for a rehearsal, his phone switched off.

I stayed by her bedside until dawn, and when I got home, I saw the top trending topic.

Edward and Vivian embrace in the snow.

The tabloids were buzzing, saying it was a reunion of old lovers and that his muse was finally back where she belonged.

Edward's team sent me a draft for a public statement. "Ms. Reed, please post this. State that you and Mr. Blake are just casual friends. We can't have the fans getting the wrong idea."

Back then, I still hadn't lost hope. I handed my phone to Edward and asked, "You want your wife to publicly say we're just friends?"

He went silent for a long time before finally saying, "Going public would ruin us."

"Ruin who, exactly?" I asked.

He frowned. "Charlotte, Vivian just made her comeback. She can't handle the internet backlash. You know how vicious those fans can be."

Oh, I knew. I knew because when those same fans were tearing me to shreds, he never once told his team to do anything about it.

They called me a clout-chaser, a nobody desperate for attention, and mocked me for being a Vivian look-alike who didn't know her place.

The nastiest comment said: [A stand-in should know her role. Don't dream of stealing the queen's throne.]

Edward saw it. He simply flipped my phone face-down on the table. "Don't look at that stuff. It'll only upset you."

But he never once said, "She isn't a stand-in."