Chapter 3

That night, Samantha and I happened to arrive at our shared penthouse at the exact same time.

She broke the suffocating silence.

Brushing nonexistent dust off her coat by the doorway, her eyes were as cool and unbothered as ever.

"We need to talk, Ethan."

My fingers paused as I untied my sneakers.

Talk about what? What was left to say?

Listen to another flimsy excuse so I could keep lying to myself? Or hear more details about her romantic northern lights getaway?

Either way, it was just another exercise in self-humiliation.

"Fine," I heard myself whisper, my throat dry.

Samantha’s eyebrows pulled together in deep disapproval. "Have you really sunk this low?"

"Selling out for cheap publicity, playing a faux-romance with some little girl?"

"I am utterly disappointed in you."

"Did you stop to consider my feelings for even a second?"

I stared at her, stunned that she actually had the audacity to play the victim first. In all our years together, I had never done anything behind her back. The PR campaign was orchestrated by the network; I had zero control over it.

Outside of work, I kept Chloe at arm's length. We never crossed the line.

Besides, when the studio first brought up the PR campaign...

"I texted you about it before I signed off," I said quietly.

The moment the studio proposed it, I had reached out to Samantha.

If she had shown even a shred of reluctance or jealousy, I would have fought the studio to kill the idea.

"Oh?" Samantha waved a dismissive hand, completely unbothered. "I must've forgotten to read it."

Clearly, she hadn't even bothered to open the chat.

She smoothly tried to cover her tracks. "I still trust you, Ethan."

I didn't bother calling out her terrible acting. My voice remained flat. "Samantha, do you even remember that we are married?"

Do you have any idea what you've done? Did the past ten years mean nothing to you?

A thousand screams of agony wanted to tear out of my throat, but in the end, only that one quiet question escaped.

"Shh!"

"I told you never to say that word near the door! The walls have ears. What if someone hears you?!"

Samantha rushed forward, clamping her hand over my mouth.

I let out a bitter, self-deprecating scoff. I was so dirty, so unspeakable, that even the word marriage couldn't pass my lips.

She shoved me deeper into the living room.

"Ethan, I never said I wanted to hide our marriage forever! The timing just isn't right yet!"

"Can you stop throwing these childish tantrums? Do you have any idea what would happen to my status in this industry if this leaked? I built my entire brand on being an independent, single powerhouse. If my fans find out I’ve been married this whole time..."

"You only ever think about yourself. When have you ever considered my career?"

I kept my mouth shut and let her rant.

Samantha sighed, softening her tone as she tapped my shoulder affectionately. "You know you still have my heart, Ethan."

"I was just... I was lonely! Can you blame me for wanting some company? You can't stand beside me in public. Can you take me skiing? Can you take me to watch the sunrise?"

"You can't blame me for this! It's because we haven't gone public!"

How utterly twisted.

In the end, she managed to dump every drop of blame right back onto my shoulders.

Was it because I didn't want to accompany her? Because I didn't want to claim her?

She was the one who refused!

The moment my career gained traction years ago, I begged her to announce our marriage. I wanted the whole world to know how lucky I was to have her.

She fought tooth and nail against it. So it was postponed, year after year.

"Does that include kissing him under the northern lights?"

I sounded eerily calm. I almost felt like laughing out loud.

Slap.

Before the words could fully settle, a sharp, stinging slap landed across my cheek.

"Ethan, you make me sick." Samantha covered her mouth, taking a step back as delicate tears welled in her eyes. "Is that really what you think of me?"

"I told you, we are just friends!"

"He went to see the northern lights with me! He did the things I love with me as a friend! Why do you always twist things into something disgusting?"

I stood frozen, the stinging heat on my cheek fading into a cold, numb void.

Samantha's voice turned venomous. "For all I know, you and Chloe have crossed plenty of lines behind my back during your little PR games. And did I make a scene? No!"

"Enough!"

I finally roared, cutting her off.

"I am not like you. I don't use high-minded excuses to justify sleeping around."

Samantha had never been spoken to like that by me. Not once in our entire relationship had I raised my voice. Her face darkened instantly. She spun on her heel and headed for the door.

Slam!

The heavy mahogany door rattled with the fury of her exit.

"Fine! If that’s how you want it, let's get a divorce!"

A familiar, bent manila folder was thrown violently across the room, striking my chest before hitting the floor.