Chapter 3

The words set off an uproar.

James's body went rigid.

He froze where he stood.

He looked back at me from across the room, and in the end he didn't turn back.

As it happened, I wasn't waiting for him anymore either.

Once I got home, I cleaned the wound quickly and lay down to sleep.

To my surprise, James actually came back.

Back when Charity had some small ache or fever, he could sit up all night watching over her.

If I asked about it, he'd say I was being childish, jealous even of his brothers and sisters.

Later, once I'd given up on him for good,

I stopped bothering to ask.

We shared the same room.

Both of us silent.

James spoke first.

"Celine, you wrecked Charity's after-party, humiliated her, and nearly made her lose the baby..."

He tugged at his tie, irritated.

"Give Charity that suspense film you just landed. Call it an apology."

I rolled over, turning my back to him.

"I said I'm quitting the industry. Don't you understand me?"

I'd sooner throw every resource I had to the dogs than turn any of it into a wedding gown for Charity.

"I'm not discussing this with you. I'm notifying you, in the name of the company."

"Don't use quitting the industry to pressure me into marriage. I said I'd let you win an award next time, and I'd marry you. What more do you want?"

"I've already smoothed this over. Don't bring it up again."

He actually believed I was using my retirement to threaten him into marrying me.

It wasn't the first time he'd threatened me either.

Years ago, to build something alongside him, I signed with his startup company.

I signed a standard-form contract, back when it was all sincerity on both sides.

Then the steep breach penalty held me down and made me give in, again and again.

This time I wouldn't yield.

I didn't answer him.

He gave me a push.

"Why are you so hot? You're running a fever, Celine."

He scrambled to gather me up in his arms.

Four years ago, filming got trapped by a blizzard that sealed off the mountain, and the crew pulled out too late and nearly got buried in the snow.

He dug a path through the snow with his bare hands and got me out.

In that bitter cold, he was frantic enough to be soaked in sweat.

Whatever it stirred in me drained away the instant I caught the smell of a woman's perfume on him.

By the time we reached the hospital, he still hadn't caught his breath.

The doctor said glass had been left in the wound and it had gotten infected.

Cleaning the wound out, I broke into a cold sweat from the pain.

He held out his arm the way he always did. "Bite me if it hurts."

Something in my chest lurched.

Once, a wire snapped and I fractured my hand in the fall.

When they set the bone, he did the same thing. He said he couldn't stand to see me hurting, that he wanted to feel it with me.

But before I could open my mouth, his phone rang.

It was the ringtone he'd set just for Charity.

Once, for a bit part, she went behind James's back to a business dinner and the investors got her drunk.

James had been out celebrating my birthday and missed her call.

When he found out, he was furious.

He crushed that producer, fired Charity's agent,

and even switched her caller ringtone to some tune she'd hummed off the top of her head.

After that, the ringtone came at any moment.

Our anniversary.

While we were in bed together.

And at my grandmother's funeral.

Every single time, that call pulled James away.

I'd fought with him over it, but James's reaction was violent.

"I don't dare let her out of my sight for half a minute. You of all people should know why. You almost got taken advantage of that way once!"

"Celine, you're both women. I'd have thought you, of anyone, would understand that feeling."

So his leaving this time didn't surprise me either.

The doctor picked out a shard of glass and asked me gently, "Does it hurt, dear?"

"It doesn't hurt at all anymore."