On his birthday, Alex Thornton, the frat boy sponsored by my wife, Vanessa Caldwell, posted on Twitter: “Happy 22nd birthday to me! Nobody else remembered, but my superstar sister sure did!” The post was tagged at a couples-themed restaurant. The picture attached was a selfie of him with my wife—faces practically touching. The top comment read, “Wow, spending your birthday with Vanessa Caldwell? And at that restaurant? Are you two together?” Alex replied directly to that comment: “Hehe, almost there.” I used my verified account to like the comment, and within minutes, Vanessa called me, furious. “Why are you liking that comment with your official account? It’s just a birthday dinner with Alex! Don’t be so petty. Just say it was an accident—fans are asking questions!” I could faintly hear Alex’s voice in the background, “If it makes him happy to see me getting hate online, that’s fine. After all, he’s just a former Academy Award Winner.” I hung up. What she didn’t remember was that it was also my birthday. I had spent three years building Vanessa’s career, three more years stepping back from the spotlight to do it, and two years in a secret marriage to protect her public image. Eight years of loving her. But now, I was done. It was time for me to make a comeback. …… Content
When Vanessa came home that night, I was playing with the kitten I’d just bought. Vanessa hated cats and dogs. Years ago, she’d secretly gotten rid of the cat I’d raised for five years. Since then, I hadn’t dared to bring another pet home. “Ethan, what the hell is this? You know I hate cats!” Vanessa shrieked. I glanced at her, unfazed, and continued petting the kitten. “Oh, stop sulking already! Alex just graduated and needs my help. Why are you jealous of him? I’ll make it up to you later, okay?” she said, pinching her nose like she was doing me a favor. When I ignored her, she got mad. She grabbed the kitten roughly and threw it aside, then shoved me. “Apologize to Alex! You’re a grown man throwing tantrums over a frat boy!” The kitten let out a sharp cry, scrambled back to me, and hissed at her. I hadn’t expected Vanessa to shove me that hard. My stomach hit the edge of the table, and a sharp pain flared up—my chronic gastric condition was back. I hadn’t eaten dinner, hoping Vanessa would come home to celebrate my birthday. Seeing Alex’s tweet had ruined my appetite entirely. Now, the stress had triggered the pain, leaving me speechless. My gastric issues had started during those years of pushing Vanessa’s career. Long nights drinking with producers and directors, always taking a backseat to let her shine—it had worn me down. Vanessa’s expression wavered when she saw my face pale. “Where’s your medication? I’ll get it,” she said, rummaging through the living room. “I thought it was here… but—” She froze, her face shifting guiltily. She remembered. The day before, she’d taken my medication to Alex. “Alex crashed his car, Ethan! Where’s the first aid kit?” she had yelled as she burst through the door. Without waiting for an answer, she grabbed the box where I kept my gastric meds. “Doesn’t matter, I’ll take this for now!” she had said, rushing out. Normally, I would’ve been angry, demanding why my medication was going to Alex. But today, I was just tired—tired in every way. “I’ll run out and buy more. Hold on,” Vanessa said, voice uneasy. She tried to help me to the couch, but the kitten hissed, and she backed off. “I don’t know why you bought this stupid thing,” she muttered. Keys in hand, she headed for the door but stopped when her phone rang. “Vanessa! Those debt collectors are at my place again,” Alex sobbed on the other end. “They said if I don’t pay up tonight, they’ll break my hand! Please, help me!” “What?!” Vanessa’s delicate face showed panic she’d never had for me. “They dare mess with my people? I’ll be right there!” “But it’s so late… won’t Ethan get mad?” Alex whimpered. “Like I care what he thinks!” Vanessa snapped. She glanced at me before stepping out. “I’ll buy your meds later. Alex is in danger.” I wanted to tell her I wanted a divorce. Instead, I watched her leave, clutching a business card I had meant to use as a surprise. It was from an internationally renowned director, someone Vanessa had admired for years. I tore it into pieces.
It was past midnight, and Vanessa still wasn’t home. The kitten curled up beside me, licking my hand as if sensing my pain. I knew she wouldn’t come back, but part of me couldn’t help hoping. Eventually, the pain forced me to order medicine through a delivery app. While waiting, a notification popped up—another post from Alex on Twitter. This time, it was a photo of Vanessa standing protectively in front of him, shielding him from a group of men. “Those debt collectors finally left after Vanessa threw money and threats at them,” he wrote. “I got a little hurt, but Vanessa’s taking me to the hospital now.” The comments were buzzing. “Is that Vanessa Caldwell again? She and that frat boy are such a cute pair!” Alex replied, “Thanks for the support! Keep shipping us—we’ve got plenty of sweet moments for you!” My heart twisted. Vanessa had insisted on keeping our marriage a secret, claiming it would hurt her career. Yet here she was, flaunting an ambiguous relationship with Alex in public. Did this not hurt her career? Alex had only suffered a small injury, and Vanessa was frantic. But just a month ago, at the Golden Laurel Award ceremony, Vanessa had stepped over me—literally. I’d gotten her that award through relentless networking and favors. As she accepted her trophy, I was cornered by men whose toes Vanessa’s rise had stepped on. “A washed-up actor trying to snag resources from our boss?” the leader sneered before his group beat me down. Through the haze of pain, I saw Vanessa holding Alex’s hand, walking by without even stopping. That night, bruised and battered, I confronted her at home. “Why didn’t you help me? Why didn’t you call the police?” “I didn’t think it was that serious,” she stammered, avoiding my eyes. “You were scared they’d hurt Alex, weren’t you?” Vanessa didn’t deny it. “Come with me to file a report. You saw it happen—you and Alex can testify.” “Oh, come on, Ethan. It was just a scuffle! You’re fine, aren’t you?” she snapped. That night, I realized how much I had lost—not just my health but my dignity. The next day, I called my old agent. “I’m ready to come back. Got any roles for me?”
When I woke up, Vanessa Caldwell was already home. She sat on the couch, scrolling through her phone. As soon as she saw me, she barked, “Your medicine’s on the table. Looks like you survived the night without it. Why were you acting so dramatic?” I gave her a faint smile. “I already bought some.” Vanessa visibly relaxed, then said, as if it were the most natural thing in the world, “Well, since you’re fine, take me to Pinewood Studios. My new film starts today. By the way, what happened with that international director you were supposed to connect me with? I knew you’d mess it up. You’re more useless every day.” I always drove Vanessa to her set openings. Even though I had left the industry, I was still respected as a former Academy Award Winner. People knew about our relationship and would give her extra attention because of me. But as I thought about the director’s card I tore up last night, a quiet satisfaction settled in my chest. On the way to Pinewood, Vanessa started whining about wanting iced water. I reached into the backseat to get it for her, only to spot a pair of men’s boxers lying there. Vanessa sucked in a sharp breath, her eyes darting nervously to mine. If this had been the past, I would’ve demanded to know whose they were, pressed her to keep Alex Thornton away. But now, I just smiled faintly and said nothing. “Alex got caught in the rain once,” she began hastily. “I went to pick him up, and he changed in the car. I didn’t realize he left… that… behind.” “Vanessa,” I interrupted, keeping my voice calm. “Did you know that Alex’s birthday is the same day as mine?” Her face froze. Her gaze wavered, guilt flickering across her features. “I… I forgot. I’ll make it up to you later, okay?” I didn’t respond, just handed her the water and resumed driving. She didn’t realize there wouldn’t be a “later” for us. At the studio, staff glanced at us with unease, their curiosity palpable. Then the pain hit me again—sharp and relentless. I took a deep breath, willing myself to endure it. A co-star of Vanessa’s, someone she was friendly with, couldn’t hold back any longer. She walked over and asked, “Vanessa, what’s going on with you and that frat boy? And what about Ethan?” Vanessa shot me a quick, nervous look before saying, “One for home, one for fun. Why wouldn’t I go for someone younger and more energetic?” The actress looked stunned, then glanced at me with a mix of disbelief and pity before walking away. Once she left, Vanessa grabbed my hand, her tone urgent. “You know how it is. Alex just graduated, and he wants to break into the industry. With me and you supporting him, it’s good for all of us.” I nodded absently, noncommittal. Sitting through Vanessa’s scenes was tedious. Her acting had once been terrible, and I had painstakingly coached her until she could make it through a take without mistakes. Even her public image, once abysmal, had been molded by me. She was like a rose I had nurtured—beautiful, yes, but now her thorns were tearing me apart. During the most pivotal scene of the day, Vanessa’s phone rang. She dropped everything to answer it, halting the entire production. “Vanessa!” Alex’s pitiful voice rang out over the quiet set. “I went to audition for that role you recommended me for, but the team doesn’t take me seriously. They don’t think I’m good enough. Can you come and back me up?” “How dare they! I’ll be right there!” Vanessa snapped, grabbing her purse to leave. “Mrs. Caldwell, we’re not done here…” the director began, trying to stop her. Vanessa ignored him entirely. I stepped in, grabbing her wrist. “If you walk out of this set now, your reputation will be ruined,” I warned. Her face darkened. “Are you threatening me? Did you not hear Alex needs me?” “Alex, Alex, Alex,” I murmured bitterly. “If you leave this set, we’re getting divorced,” I said, my voice cold and final. Vanessa looked at me in shock, then scoffed. “Using divorce as a threat, Ethan? Nice try. We’ll talk about this later.” She yanked her arm free, shoving me hard as she stormed off. My stomach, already on fire, couldn’t take the force. I fell to the ground, the pain unbearable. “Ethan, are you okay?” The crew rushed to help me. Vanessa, do you see this? Strangers care more for me than you ever have. Why am I still holding on? I took my medication, forcing the pain down, and turned to the director. “This film just started production, right? Not much has been shot?” The director nodded hesitantly. “Replace Vanessa’s scenes. I’ll take her role and fund the project myself,” I said firmly.
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