Chapter 1

I was an A-list movie queen’s dirty little secret.

To the world, she was an fiercely independent, career-driven single woman.

Behind closed doors, she openly flirted with pretty young college boys.

Whenever I dared to ask, she would throw divorce papers in my face to shut me up.

Three months later, a rom-com I co-starred in with an upcoming starlet blew up the internet. Fans everywhere were shipping us like crazy.

My superstar wife finally deigned to text me.

"Have you realized what you did wrong yet?"

What she didn't know was that we were already over.

When the press junket finally wrapped up, I sank onto the green room couch, completely exhausted.

Chloe, the breakout starlet of our show, walked over with a warm cup of coffee and offered a sweet, radiant smile. "Rough day, huh, Ethan?"

"Thanks, Chloe."

I took it politely and set it on the coffee table.

I didn't take a sip.

Ever since our contemporary rom-com became an overnight sensation, our on-screen chemistry had taken the internet by storm.

Pop culture accounts were churning out edits non-stop, breaking five-year streaming records and dominating the trending charts. It was a certified pop-culture phenomenon.

Naturally, our PR teams jumped at the chance to milk it. A high-profile showmance marketing strategy was put in motion.

In our industry, that was standard procedure.

The fans were eating it up, convinced they were witnessing true love.

“The grumpy, silent older guy and the witty, bubbly sunshine girl? Throw away the key, they’re soulmates!”

“I’m screaming, crying, throwing up! If they aren’t real, love doesn’t exist!”

“Who else is giggling and kicking their feet at 2 a.m. watching their interviews?”

Yet, behind the scenes, I kept a strict, professional distance.

A line drawn firmly in the sand.

After all, I was married. I had been secretly married to the renowned movie queen, Samantha Hayes, for seven years. I didn't want to make her uncomfortable.

Even though Samantha probably didn't give a damn.

Once, due to my own slip-up, the paparazzi caught Chloe and me acting completely cold and distant off-camera. Tabloids ran wild that day, screaming about fake chemistry and desperate PR stunts.

Chloe immediately put out a statement on Twitter:

"Mr. Vance, you’re as brooding as ever."

That single line blurred our real-life dynamic with our TV characters, making it feel like the show had stepped right into reality.

Our shippers went wild with celebration.

We trended at number one again. But my heart wasn't in it.

I looked down at my phone.

My screen was an endless monologue of messages I had sent Samantha.

She rarely replied, and when she did, it was just a curt "K" or "Fine."

"Are you coming home tonight? I can grill that garlic-butter ribeye you love," I typed after a moment’s hesitation.

A bright red exclamation mark flashed on the screen.

Message not delivered. You have been blocked.

Chloe turned her head, accidentally catching sight of the screen. She offered me an apologetic, awkward smile.

Then, she softly added, "I wonder if I’ll ever be lucky enough to taste your cooking, Ethan."

"I watched your reality cooking show back then. My mouth was literally watering..." She blinked at me, her eyes twinkling.

"Someday, definitely," I replied with polite detachment.

My gaze remained fixed on the glowing screen.

"Okay!"

Chloe heard the brush-off in my voice, but she didn't push. She ducked her head with a hint of dejection. Noticing I was looking back at her, she instantly masked it with a bright, supportive smile. "I’ll hold you to that!"

...

Samantha had blocked me. For the three hundred and twenty-sixth time since we got married.

Right on schedule.

Every time we had a disagreement, Samantha’s immediate reaction was to block me on SnapChat and my phone.

She claimed it was to give each other "cooling-off space." Since we were secretly married and barely had time to see each other anyway, that meant total radio silence.

Once her temper subsided, she’d unblock me.

And I would reflect on what I supposedly did wrong. Then, we’d act like nothing happened.

This time, my sin was asking about the young college boy she’d recently been spotted with.

Samantha’s face had gone instantly cold. She hurled a draft of our divorce agreement at me and slammed the front door on her way out.

"Are you seriously interrogating me?"

"I have my own life and my own friends! Can you stop being so damn controlling? Do you have to monitor my every move?"

"Ethan, you are just my husband. You are not my entire universe!"

I shook my head, opening my mouth to explain.

All I was left with was the sight of her cold, retreating back.

That wasn't what I meant at all.

The truth was, I hadn't seen her in so long. I had a million things I wanted to tell her, but I didn't know how to bridge the gap between us anymore.

Samantha was never the type to reach out first.

And people on set kept whispering in my ear about her and that college student.

The words had slipped out before I could stop them.

Samantha went to theme parks and movie theaters with that boy... doing all the things I had begged to do with her for years. When I asked her back then, she told me:

"We’re both building our careers. We can’t be seen together in public. We have to keep our distance."

"We can watch movies at home. Theme parks are childish and loud. If you want to go, go by yourself."

Yet, she turned around and did all of it with another man.

She could surround herself with countless men in broad daylight, but never with me. I was destined to stay hidden in the dark.

I often found myself wondering: did Samantha ever truly love me?

My phone buzzed with an alert. My heart skipped a beat, hoping she had finally unblocked me. I eagerly tapped the screen.

Instead, a breaking news notification popped up:

#Movie Queen Samantha Hayes Spotted Chasing the Northern Lights with Her Younger Flame