The night I finally clinched the Best Actress award, the tabloids exploded with a video of me, undeniably pregnant. The whole room erupted. Every single reporter swarmed me, shouting, “Ms. Miller, who is the father of the child?” I turned my head, my gaze landing on Leo Vance, his face a mask of shock. The man who was always so composed, so detached, lost his composure in public for the very first time. I forced a smile, turning back to the reporters. “I don’t have a child.” The moment Leo left me for his childhood sweetheart, it sealed our fate. There was no way anything real could ever exist between us. Before stepping out of the car onto the red carpet, Brenda, my agent, warned me repeatedly: if I ran into Camilla, pretend I didn’t see her. Absolutely no more conflicts. Who could blame her? Camilla’s backer was Ashton. The Ashton family basically owned half of Hollywood. There was an old saying circulating in the industry: “Want to make it big? Sleep with Ashton.” Though crude, any woman connected to Ashton seemed to find their way effortlessly in the entertainment world. Except for me. I was the only one who had publicly dated Ashton, only to end up almost blacklisted. All because I offended his childhood friend. For six years after that, no matter how hard I worked, no matter how much the public loved my acting, I never won a single award. Repeatedly being nominated, yet never winning, had stripped me of all my fire. I started avoiding sharing stages with Camilla. Any script she showed interest in, I’d politely decline, citing scheduling conflicts. Maybe my silent surrender finally got through to her, or maybe, with her and Ashton about to marry, she just didn’t want me to stir up any more drama. So this time, they grudgingly allowed a single trophy to fall into my lap. Brenda nearly cried when she heard the news. “Skylar,” she’d said, “the hard times are finally over.” Ashton was finally willing to let me go. Even if the breakup wasn’t my fault, I simply couldn’t fight Ashton. I’d given up a long time ago.
Brenda had just finished warning me not to clash with Camilla, when Camilla deliberately invited me to walk the red carpet with her. The Ashton heir’s new flame and old flame. Just the two of us standing together would be a social media explosion. I knew she wanted to humiliate me in every possible way. Not just because she was Ashton’s current girlfriend, but also because we were wearing dresses from the same brand tonight. Hers was the latest collection. Mine was last year’s. I could already imagine the trending topics later: her fans and my haters would tear me apart, mocking me for being cheap. But it didn’t matter. I never cared about competing with her in fashion. And I certainly never dreamed Ashton would come back to me. If she wanted to be the star, I’d just be the backdrop, playing the supporting role. But Camilla still seemed unsatisfied. She lowered her voice and asked, “Skylar, do you know Ashton is coming tonight?” I didn’t. Ashton and I had cut ties completely the day we broke up. But hearing his name still made my steps falter for a beat. Camilla noticed, a mocking smile playing on her lips. “Don’t overthink it. He’s here for me, not you.” “I know.” Even though the Ashton family controlled most of Hollywood, Ashton himself had never attended any entertainment events before today. Not even when we were at our best, did he ever show up for me. Camilla then added, “Ashton and I are getting married soon.” I nodded, turning to offer her a genuine smile. “I wish you both happiness.” Perhaps my soft demeanor tonight left Camilla with no desire to tease me further. Or maybe she was just eager to find Ashton. The moment the red carpet ended, she ditched me and disappeared. I posed for the photographers and answered a few questions. The reporters were surprisingly cooperative; no one mentioned Ashton. Our past relationship had been tumultuous, but the ending was truly humiliating. Ashton, one of the parties involved, had found out about being dumped from a trending news headline. During that interview, everyone expected me to spill details about our relationship. But I simply looked into the camera and calmly said five words: “We’ve broken up.” No warning, no explanation.
Ashton called me later. He offered no explanation, no apology, and didn’t even ask why. He just confirmed, “Are you sure about this?” I softly hummed in affirmation. He was silent for a second, then hung up. I expected him to be furious. After all, he’d grown up pampered and adored, no one ever dared defy him. But I not only dumped him, I made sure he wasn’t the first to know. The hashtag #AshtonDumped stayed trending for three days. Ashton never had it removed. My agency, terrified of offending the Ashton family, tried to take it down, but it would reappear less than a minute later. That wasn’t Ashton being shamed; that was his warning to me. Sure enough, my career took a brutal nosedive after that. Six years passed. Six years for Ashton’s anger to fade. Six years, until he and Camilla were about to marry. Memories flashed, my mind drifting. The host called my name twice before I snapped back to reality. Everyone around me was celebrating, the applause thundering. Through a gap, I glanced at the first row. Camilla was sitting there. The seat beside her was empty. No name tag, but everyone knew it was Ashton’s seat. He hadn’t arrived yet. Better this way, avoiding a mountain of awkwardness. But as I stood on stage, looking up to give my acceptance speech, Ashton was suddenly sitting there, perfectly composed. Years hadn’t dulled his presence; his aura was even more stable and distant. The moment our eyes met, he looked at me like a stranger, his expression utterly blank. I steadied myself and began my speech, speaking clearly and confidently.
Mid-speech, a commotion erupted in the audience. “Whispering” was too soft a word for it. Everyone was trying to restrain themselves, but the shock of the gossip was too overwhelming, making voices involuntarily rise. It turned out my haters had leaked a video of me, heavily pregnant, from six years ago. That was shortly after Ashton and I broke up. I’d intended to numb myself with work, but before starting the new project, I suddenly discovered I was pregnant. After that, I dropped out of the show and disappeared from the public eye for a whole year. The video was from the surveillance cameras of my old apartment complex. I forgot what I was going out for that day. But I wasn’t wearing a mask, so my face was clearly visible. As I walked off stage with my trophy, Brenda and Chloe immediately rushed over, trying to escort me out of the venue. But it was too late. Reporters swarmed forward. Cameras and microphones were practically shoved into my face, everyone asking the same question: “Ms. Skylar, who is the father of the child?” I was trapped in the crowd, unable to move. A short distance away, no one dared approach Ashton. If Ashton and I were still together, maybe the reporters would have been a little more polite. I saw Ashton’s face filled with shock, his fingertips, resting on the armrest, unconsciously clenched tight. He knew who the father was. That’s why he, usually so composed and aloof, was so visibly flustered in front of everyone for the first time. I didn’t answer the reporters directly. Instead, I smiled and denied, “I don’t have a child.”
No Best Actress winner had ever left an awards ceremony as humiliated as I did. My dress was stained, and one earring was lost in the chaos. A huge crowd of reporters chased after me; it didn’t look like I had just accepted an award, but rather was fleeing for my life. Brenda and Chloe were utterly terrified. After we got into the car, it took them a while to calm down before Brenda asked: “What the hell happened? You have a child? Ashton’s? Where is the child now?” There were so many questions, I gave a wry smile, unsure which to answer first. Brenda and Chloe weren’t the ones who started with me. So, they only knew about Ashton and me from online rumors or overheard conversations. During the year I disappeared from the public eye, everyone initially thought I’d been blacklisted. When I returned to Hollywood, people then speculated I’d been too heartbroken from the breakup and had gone away to heal. No one in the industry knew what truly happened that year. Brenda and Chloe didn’t either. Until they saw that video today, they, like everyone else, assumed I’d gone to have a baby. A year’s time fit perfectly. Brenda even sounded a little excited: “If Ashton comes looking for you because of the child, you should seize this chance to get back with him! You’ll be drowning in awards after that!” I shook my head. Brenda froze for a second, then nearly sprang up and hit the car ceiling. “You’re not planning to offend him again, are you?” How could I dare? My head shake meant: “There is no child.” There had been one, but I didn’t keep it. Brenda looked skeptical; a year was too coincidental. She was about to ask more, but Chloe handed her phone over. “Brenda, look.” “Blacklisted trending topics again? Those vultures!” Brenda snatched the phone, but after a glance, her expression turned strange. “What… what’s going on?” There wasn’t a single negative trending topic about me, not even an unflattering photo. Yet, I had been utterly humiliated leaving the venue earlier. This was Ashton’s doing. It was easy for him to make someone’s life difficult. And just as easy for him to protect someone. Brenda looked stressed. “You really didn’t keep the child? Then how do you plan to explain it to Ashton?” Why should I explain anything to him? He didn’t love me. And he and Camilla were about to get married.
I knew Ashton would come looking for me. The video had surfaced so suddenly, and it concerned a child. He’d have to get to the bottom of it. I just hadn’t expected him to come so fast. He was already waiting when I arrived downstairs at my apartment building. Against the night sky, his tall, slender figure looked exactly the same as six years ago. Except six years ago, Ashton would open his arms for me, waiting for me to rush into his embrace. Now, he just stood there, radiating a coldness that dared no one to approach. Brenda was a bit worried. As I got out of the car, she pulled me aside. I turned back and smiled at her. “It’s fine. If he wanted to hurt me, he wouldn’t do it himself.” “True,” Brenda sighed, then reminded me to talk to Ashton properly. “You’ve been through so much. Good days are ahead. Don’t make your life harder again!” I smiled and nodded. Once they left, I walked toward Ashton. My steps were calm, as if I were meeting an old friend. But only I knew that in the last two steps before reaching Ashton, my heart rate quickened uncontrollably. After all, we had loved deeply once. Because I loved him too much, when the earthquake hit, when he abandoned me without hesitation to find Camilla, I almost lost the will to survive. Ashton knew why I dumped him. But he never offered an explanation afterward. And because I publicly announced our breakup, humiliating him, he let me endure cold sneers and ridicule in the industry for years. Who could blame him? He was rich and powerful. Even now, knowing whose fault it was, I was still the one to break the silence. “Mr. Ashton.” Ashton frowned, his voice low. “I’m still used to you calling me by my name.” I had called his name so many times before. *Ashton, I’m almost done with work. I’m coming to find you for dinner!* *Ashton, you’ve been on a business trip for a week. When are you coming back?* *Ashton, I miss you so much.* Six years had passed, yet the tone with which I used to flirt with Ashton, to pour out my longing, was still so vividly clear. A surge of inappropriate regret welled up inside me. I smiled and shook my head. “Ms. Camilla said you’re getting married soon. It’s not appropriate for me to call you by your first name anymore. Congratulations to you both.” Ashton said, “Do you think I can still get married now?” Even if Camilla was still willing to marry him, willing to instantly become a stepmother, her family elders would still care about appearances and would certainly object. I had ruined his plans again. “I’m sorry,” I quickly apologized. “Where’s the child?”
Ashton finally brought up the main topic of the night. The child, suddenly exposed, but never seen. He sounded annoyed, his tone much deeper than before. “Why didn’t you tell me you were pregnant back then?” Because I didn’t know at first. By the time I knew, we had already broken up. “I didn’t want to affect you and Ms. Camilla because of the child.” Ashton scoffed. “You kept it a secret for six years, and it still got out, didn’t it? Did it make any less of an impact?” “I’m sorry.” I didn’t know what else to say besides those three words. When Ashton and I first started dating, someone warned me that he liked obedient girls. But I couldn’t pretend to be obedient. I was young then, thinking one relationship would last a lifetime. Who could pretend for a lifetime? So, in front of Ashton, I would throw little tantrums and act petty. He wasn’t great at coaxing, but he never held it against me. I usually felt better after I’d vented my frustrations. The Skylar from back then was vibrant, passionate. Not like the Skylar Ashton saw now: poised, reserved, stripped of my true self. He asked again, “Where’s the child?” “There is no child.” From the moment I found out, I never considered keeping the baby. A man who didn’t love me wouldn’t love a child I bore for him. And I never wanted to be a single mother. So I had an abortion. A light exploded in Ashton’s eyes, tearing through the dark, heavy ocean I’d come to associate with his gaze, finally letting me see the surge of his emotions. He actually cared about the unborn child. That was something I hadn’t expected. Did he care about his own flesh and blood? Or had he, perhaps, truly loved me, even just a little, back then?
Ashton was angry. Even though we’d been apart for six years, his habit of closing his eyes when he got angry hadn’t changed. I looked at him, feeling a bit lost. I didn’t understand what he was angry about. If anyone had a right to be angry, it was me. Before our breakup, Ashton and I each squeezed out five days for a fun trip. But because he told Camilla our itinerary, she showed up the very next day. I was a little upset then. However, Camilla said their families were old acquaintances, and she and Ashton had grown up together, like siblings, practically family. And Ashton didn’t tell her to leave, so I had no choice but to tolerate it. Who knew that the very next day, an earthquake would hit the area? I still remember, as I was running out, I tumbled down the stairs. My thigh was covered in bruises, and my ankle was severely sprained. Most importantly, I hit my head, and my vision became a bit blurry. Ashton initially wanted to carry me out, but then he heard Camilla’s cries— “Ashton! Ashton! Come save me!” “Ashton, where are you? Help!” Ashton looked at me, then turned and went to find Camilla. He left me there. It was as if he didn’t care if I could get out, or if I would die there. Even later, when I announced our breakup publicly without telling him first, he never explained why he did what he did. But today, Ashton asked me, “Do you want to hear an explanation?” I paused, surprised. That earthquake had almost become my nightmare. Every time I thought of it, my chest would involuntarily tighten, and breathing would become difficult. Two years ago, in a show I was in, there was a scene related to an earthquake. The director praised my performance then, saying he’d never seen anyone portray the terror of an earthquake so realistically and naturally. But I wasn’t acting; I was genuinely terrified. Afterward, it took me a long time to recover from that emotion. That night, I dreamt of the past, dreamt of being abandoned by Ashton again. I woke up drenched in cold sweat, again and again. My mind was clear, but my body wouldn’t obey, unable to get up. The next day, when Chloe saw I wasn’t getting out of bed, she pushed open the door and found me delirious with fever. She immediately rushed me to the hospital.
Whether before or after publicly announcing our breakup, I never asked Ashton for an explanation. Because I believed actions spoke louder than words. In a life-or-death situation, the person he wanted to save was Camilla. So, no matter how much he claimed to love me, his words were empty. But I also didn’t want to be tormented by that nightmare anymore. Since he brought it up, I would listen. Ashton said the Camilla family originally had two children. Camilla had an older brother. He and Ashton had been best friends since childhood. When they were thirteen, the two boys snuck out to play and were targeted by kidnappers. Someone wanted to abduct Ashton. The two teenagers ran for their lives, trying every possible way to save themselves. But in the end, only Ashton returned. “Back then, to scatter the kidnappers, we decided to run in separate directions.” “Before we split up, the last thing her brother told me was that if he didn’t make it back, I should take good care of his parents and Camilla.” So, in that moment of life and death, when he heard Camilla cry out “brother,” he went to save her. He didn’t want his best friend to die with unfulfilled wishes; he didn’t want to break his promise. Friendships forged in youth were the most precious. Especially when that person died because they were implicated by him. These old memories were Ashton’s deepest pain. It seemed understandable that he wouldn’t want to bring them up before. But I still wanted to ask, “What if I had died that day?” He owed the Camilla family; he went to compensate them. That was right. But I didn’t owe the Camilla family. Why did I have to pay the price, even the price of my life? Ashton didn’t speak. Perhaps he couldn’t be bothered to answer such a hypothetical question. After all, I was alive and well, and now I’d brought him trouble. I didn’t press further, just told him, “Don’t worry, I truly didn’t secretly have a child. I have no idea about the video either, but I certainly didn’t want it to be exposed.” Ashton looked at me. A flash of something akin to sadness passed through his eyes. Then he spoke, calmly confronting me, “I asked a doctor. For a body shape like in the video, someone who doesn’t ‘show’ easily would be five months pregnant. Even someone who ‘shows’ easily would be four months.” So— “Skylar, you did keep the child, but you resented me for abandoning you back then, so you hid it for so many years and are now deliberately denying it, aren’t you?”
No, I really didn’t. The younger I was, the more stubborn and proud I became. Even though I loved Ashton very, very much, I also loved myself just as much. From the moment Ashton abandoned me to find Camilla, it was destined that there would be nothing between us. Even if he explained now, and I understood, it didn’t mean I accepted. But Ashton tonight was different. He, who was always so decisive, kept pressing the same question again and again. It was as if he wouldn’t stop until I admitted to keeping the child. I had no choice but to tell him the truth: “I didn’t get rid of the child right away because I was sick.” At the same time I found out I was pregnant, I also found out I was ill. I had to delay the abortion due to treatment issues. And because of the medication, I gained a lot of weight, making my stomach look bigger than a normal pregnant woman’s, but the actual gestational age wasn’t that far along. That year, I experienced heartbreak, unemployment, illness, and a miscarriage. I also lost my mother. No one was more dependable than my mom, and no one cared for me more deeply. So, when I found out I was pregnant and sick, I called her. She rushed from our hometown to take care of me, staying by my side night after night. It was my fault that I was so caught up in my own emotions back then that I didn’t notice her increasingly frail body or her paler complexion. The day I was discharged from the hospital, Mom was joyfully planning to take me home. But as we stepped out of the elevator, she suddenly collapsed in front of me. Those few seconds of memory are blank. I’ve replayed it many times since, but I still can’t remember what I was thinking in those initial moments after Mom fell. Was I too scared? Or was my brain, still recovering from a serious illness, just too slow to react? “Ashton.” I finally couldn’t help but call his name again. He softly hummed in response. I told him, “I can understand your guilt towards Camilla’s brother. So, about what happened that year, I don’t blame you.” “And then?” He asked something I hadn’t expected. I looked up at him, a little confused. “And then what?” “Skylar, shouldn’t we start over?”
🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “NovelMaster” app 🔍 search for “298805”, and watch the full series ✨! #NovelMaster #浪漫Romance #现实主义Realistic
Leave a Reply