Chapter 3

3.

I was reviewing the draft of the agent contract Leo had sent me.

A voice message from Chloe popped up on WhatsApp, her tone sickly sweet. "I'm so, so sorry, Eleanor. Julian insisted on taking care of me, which made him miss rehearsal. Please don't be mad at him, okay?"

Her message was a classic passive-aggressive attack―sweet on the surface, but sharp underneath.

I didn't bother replying, but my eyes landed on her new Instagram profile picture.

I clicked to enlarge it. It was a pair of long, powerful hands, gently cupping her cheeks, which were flushed from her allergic reaction.

I knew those hands all too well―the hands that had played countless pieces by Chopin and Rachmaninoff.

He was certainly dedicated.

I closed the picture and silently changed my own profile picture from our wedding photo to a picture of a bird soaring in a clear sky.

On the final day of the City Music Festival, I was backstage handling the wrap-up.

When I finished and walked out for the group photo, I saw Julian already on stage, his arm wrapped around Chloe’s waist at the center of the stage.

The reporters' flashes went off endlessly. Someone shouted:

"The Vances are so in love! Married seven years and still like honeymooners!"

"Mrs. Vance looks so young! I heard you planned this whole festival. Truly talented and beautiful!"

They both just smiled, not correcting anyone.

It wasn't until I walked closer and Chloe saw me that her smile froze. She quickly grabbed Julian's hand and whispered, "Julian, Eleanor's here..."

Julian immediately dropped his arm from her waist, but there was no apology on his face. Instead, he hissed at me, "Eleanor, do you have to be like this?"

"Chloe worked hard for this festival too. I'm just giving a newcomer a chance to be seen. This is a public event, don't make things ugly."

I wasn't going to make a scene. Not anymore.

I put on a polite, detached smile and explained to the media that Chloe was simply Julian's assistant.

The awkward moment passed, thanks to my damage control.

As soon as the interviews ended, I took out my phone to book a flight, but Julian snatched it from my hand.

"You're booking a flight? To Paris? Why don't I know about this?"

He fired off the questions, his brow furrowed, his voice filled with shock and offense.

"When did I schedule a performance in Paris? Why didn't you discuss this with me?"