Chapter 4

Simon and I met five years ago, on the set of an ad shoot.

I was the lighting stand-in for the lead actress, in a thin gown, soaking in a tank of cold water for six hours.

When we wrapped, everyone crowded around the lead actress, fussing over her, asking if she was cold. No one noticed I couldn't even get my shoes back on.

Simon passed through the set and saw me crouched by the roadside. He had his assistant take me to the hospital.

The next day, he sent over a check.

I refused it.

Mavis rapped me on the head right there.

"That's for your medical bills. What's with the too-good-for-this-world act?"

I chased him down in the parking lot to return the money. Simon was leaning against his car, looking at an old photograph.

The girl in it wore a white dress, with a small mole near her temple.

He looked up and saw me, and his gaze held for a long time.

In that moment, I understood why he'd helped me.

I fell for him anyway.

Liking someone doesn't follow reason.

Even knowing the light was on you only because you'd stepped into the wrong spot, your skin still felt warm under it.

Simon was direct when he pursued me too.

He got me roles, paid off the medical debt my adoptive mother left behind, and pulled me out of the dangerous stunt work.

I asked him once whether I resembled someone.

He said I did.

Then I asked if he could try to see Judith Hughes.

He was silent for a long time, then nodded.

We dated for two years, married for three.

He knew I feared cars, knew I wouldn't eat cilantro, knew I had to leave a small light on before I could sleep.

When I ran a fever, he'd put down his meetings and stay by the bed.

When a nightmare made me kick him, he'd wake up and only tuck the blanket back over me.

All those years, I thought he'd long since seen my face for what it was.

I had once tried, in earnest, to make the marriage work.

When Simon's stomach hurt, I taught myself to make a light soup for him.

When he worked late into the night, I'd leave a lamp on outside the study.

The things he gave me, I rarely asked the price of.

The sapphire necklace was the only exception.

The night I got it, I asked him why he'd chosen blue.

He said the moment he saw it, he thought it suited me.

I was so happy that night I didn't sleep, sneaking looks at myself in the mirror over and over.

Looking back now, maybe there was some truth in what he said.

That's the part of love that wears you down.

There was real feeling in those days, and no matter how ugly the ending, a person can't rule all that tenderness a fake.

I can only admit Simon was good to me, and accept, at the same time, that when it came to a choice that mattered more, he gave me up.

Put the two together, and they don't cancel each other out.

That word at the birthday dinner, "knockoff," tore a slit in my confidence.

Simon didn't speak up for me.

And he used that necklace to remind me that three years of marriage were only a borrowed costume.

The day I moved to the apartment, he didn't come to see me off.

Brendan set the last box into the car for me and asked, carefully, "Mrs. Graves, will you and Mr. Graves be coming back?"

"Call me Miss Hughes from now on."

I thought about it, then said with a smile, "Once a stand-in wraps, she usually doesn't sign on for the next season."

Brendan's eyes went red at the rims.

He turned his face away and handed me a jewelry box.

"Mr. Graves had this sent over."

Inside was a new diamond necklace, worth more than the sapphire one.

The card held only a single line.

【Don't read into it. Consider it a replacement.】

I took a photo and sent it to Simon.

【Is this mine too?】

He replied almost at once.

【Yes.】

【Can I sell it?】

The little "typing" note kept flickering above the chat.

Five minutes later, he answered with one word.

【Suit yourself.】

I handed the necklace to Mavis and asked her to find a buyer.

That night, Simon called seven times.

I was asleep. I didn't take a single one.