Everyone knew the acclaimed actor, Julian Reed, and the rising starlet, Fiona White, were practically smitten with each other. He spent her birthdays with her, showered her with gifts, and protected her career in the cutthroat entertainment industry. They were just one step away from making it official. Until my personal blog, filled with sweet memories of Julian and me, was dug up. Suddenly, the internet exploded with a torrent of abuse: “Who’s this nobody trying to cling to fame?” “Get lost, delusional fangirl!” But then Julian left a comment for me: “Haze, please come back. Let’s start over.” I can’t come back, Julian. I’m already gone. 【June 24, 2024, Sunny. Julian Reed, I don’t like the tenth-anniversary gift you gave me. I’m mad. It’ll take ten kisses to make me feel better.】 It was a necklace, from one of my favorite niche designers. I loved her philosophy: nothing in this world is meaningful unless it’s unique. So, she only ever made one of each piece. One of a kind, irreplaceable. I’d always wanted a piece of her work. I once showed Julian a bracelet, telling him how much I loved it. He sat there, chin propped on his hand, gazing at me with such tender affection. “Hubby will buy it for you, Haze. Anything you want, I’ll get it.” The memory was still so fresh, it could have been yesterday. But today, he’d given me a necklace. Not the bracelet I’d been dreaming of. A wave of disappointment twisted my already aching stomach, making me feel irritable. I put down the necklace, met his eyes, and asked, “Why isn’t it that bracelet?” His expression flickered with panic for a second, but he quickly covered it up. He said with a feigned regret, “I’m so sorry, Haze. I was too late; that bracelet had already sold.” “This necklace is beautiful too. It’ll look stunning on you.” I stared into his carefully composed eyes, managing a bitter smile. Julian Reed. Julian Reed. I never wear necklaces. Had you forgotten? After what happened, how could I ever dare to wear one? That night, Julian pulled me close in bed. He pressed soft kisses to the back of my neck, feigning endless tenderness. “Haze, happy tenth wedding anniversary.” In the darkness, I gave a mocking little tug at the corner of my mouth. Julian, today isn’t our tenth wedding anniversary. Yesterday was.
I knew exactly where that bracelet went. A photo of its owner, wearing it, was sitting quietly in my phone. The sender had no name attached, but I knew exactly who she was. Fiona White, the rising starlet, my husband’s on-screen partner. They’d played a couple in a TV series that became a massive hit, shooting them to stardom. Now, they were reuniting on screen for a movie. She had added me on SnapChat a year ago and, ever since, would send me messages from time to time. Showing me just how good my husband was to her. When she struggled with a scene, he’d break it down line by line, rehearsing with her late into the night. He’d shield her from aggressive toasts and the pressures of industry gatherings, making sure she didn’t touch a drop of alcohol. He’d connect her with renowned directors, helping her climb from a complete nobody to the rising starlet she was today. She didn’t miss a single sweet detail between them, sending me every last bit of it. Until yesterday. Yesterday was my and Julian’s tenth wedding anniversary. It was also Fiona’s birthday. Julian didn’t come home. He went to celebrate with her. That evening, I received another message from her. A photo. A slender wrist adorned with an antique-looking bracelet, distinctive and unforgettable. The very bracelet Julian had promised me. 【Sister, don’t you think this bracelet is beautiful?】 【Julian got it for me.】 【I just mentioned it casually, and he gave it to me without hesitation.】 【Honestly, I can’t handle him. He’s going to spoil me rotten.】 I didn’t reply. I never replied to her messages, but she still persisted, happily sending them for an entire year. Perhaps she was certain I’d read them. And I always did. I watched my husband grow closer to another woman, doting on her, pouring all his energy into her. I used to dismiss Fiona’s messages. Did she even know what Julian and I had been through? We’d been married for ten years; our lives were intertwined, our existence woven into each other’s. He’d rescued me from a bleak childhood, and he’d promised to love me forever. I thought Julian and I would endure, steadfast, against anything. After all, in this vast world, we only had each other. I never imagined that after just ten years, his heart would begin to wander. He started noticing the scenery along the path, attempting to walk with someone else.
【August 19, 2024, Cloudy. Julian Reed sent me a dress, a backless style, so dramatic. He said he wanted me to wear it for him. He’s such a pervert.】 Julian sent his assistant to deliver the dress. It was incredibly sexy, exposing a large portion of my back, definitely not for everyday wear. While my roles were often glamorous, often villainous characters, or femme fatale roles that were all flash and no substance, that wasn’t my everyday style. Julian called me, patiently coaxing, “Please, Haze, my sweet wife, I miss you. Will you wear it and come see me?” He kept badgering me for ages, and eventually, I couldn’t bring myself to refuse. I agreed. He said he’d be off set late, asking me to meet him at room 1407 in the hotel at midnight. The way he enthusiastically gave me instructions reminded me of when we were eighteen. We were both just starting college, having been together for only a year. He’d always hold and kiss me, murmuring about when we’d be adults, how he was about to explode from holding back. I could feel it—his words, his touch, his gaze, even his very soul, craved me. I reveled in that craving. He made me feel like my existence in this world had meaning. He was my reason to live. Julian Reed was Hazel’s reason to live, from eighteen to thirty-two. Always. At midnight, I wore that dress and knocked on the door of 1407. But it wasn’t Julian who opened it; it was a strange old man. We stared at each other for a moment in the doorway before his gaze turned lecherous, raking over me. Julian then appeared from behind me, pulling me away as he told the old man, “My apologies, Director Thompson. My assistant sent her to the wrong room.” Back in Julian’s room, he held me close, and we spent the night wrapped in each other. Half-asleep, I heard his faint whisper: “I’m sorry, Haze.”
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