Chapter 3

3.

I was carrying my last few work binders to hand off when I heard a familiar laugh from the break room around the corner.

Scarlett’s voice was a practiced, flirtatious purr, but the calculation underneath was unmistakable. “Liam, stop it! What if Chloe sees us?”

Liam chuckled, his tone casual. “Chloe? She’s just the tour manager. She gets it.”

My steps faltered. The frosted glass door showed two figures pressed closely together.

Scarlett let out a soft gasp. “You’ve smudged my Tom Ford lipstick…”

I was about to turn and leave, but the door swung open.

A bright red lipstick stain marked the collar of Liam’s shirt. Scarlett was fixing his collar like a dutiful leading lady.

When she saw me, a flash of smug triumph crossed her face before she seamlessly switched to wide-eyed, innocent surprise. The innocence was so forced, pure Hollywood plastic. “Oh! Chloe!” Her voice was light and sweet. “I didn’t see you there. Do you… need something?”

She paused deliberately, then added with a saccharine smile, “I know you work so hard, managing all of Liam’s schedules… and his equipment.” She emphasized the word “equipment” with a suggestive look.

Liam’s eyes flickered. His first instinct was to lie. “Chloe, it’s not… we were just going over next week’s setlist…”

Scarlett immediately cut him off, looping her arm through his with a practiced ease. “Oh Liam, you don’t have to explain.” She turned to me, her smile even sweeter, but her eyes were filled with challenge. “Chloe understands professional boundaries, right? I mean, she’s been on your team for… how long now? Five years?”

Her gaze suddenly locked onto the braided bracelet on my wrist. We had made them together at our first Coachella, and the edges were now frayed.

“Oh, honey, you still wear that?” Scarlett said, her tone dripping with condescending concern. “It looks so… old. I’m sure Liam wouldn’t want his staff looking so… shabby in public, would he?”

She reached out with her perfectly manicured hand, pretending to help me take it off. “Here, let me just―”

I instinctively pulled my hand back, blocking her. It wasn't even a hard shove.

But Scarlett seized the opportunity, stumbling backward dramatically. She didn’t even hit the ground, just fell gracefully into Liam’s arms, her eyes instantly welling up with perfect tears. Her voice trembled. “Liam…”

Without a second thought, Liam shoved me hard. My back slammed against the wall, a dull pain shooting through my shoulder blade.

He glared at me as if I’d committed a mortal sin. “What the hell is wrong with you, Chloe? It’s just a stupid bracelet. Get a grip!”

Scarlett leaned against his chest, her eyes, full of triumph, fixed on me from the corner of her eye. “Chloe, I’m so sorry. I don’t know what I did to upset you… Is it… because of Liam and me?”

Watching her Oscar-worthy performance, I suddenly found it all hilarious. All the “accidents” over the past five years were just her meticulously planned campaign to mark her territory. She was a master-level PR player, and Liam was just a narcissist she could easily manipulate.

I didn’t even have the energy to argue with her.

I straightened up, dusted off my clothes, and looked at Liam with cold indifference.

“Apologize to Scarlett,” he ordered in the same tone he used with his assistants.

The weight of our five-year marriage was lighter than a single one of Scarlett’s crocodile tears.

“Sure. My bad,” I said, shrugging with an expressionless face, my voice dripping with sarcasm.

Liam froze. He was used to my tearful explanations, clearly not expecting this dismissive attitude. “Chloe, wait―”

“Save your lecture. I have work to do,” I cut him off and turned away sharply.

The bracelet had come loose during the struggle. I ripped it off my wrist and, as I passed a trash can, I tossed it in without a second glance.

As I turned the corner, I saw Liam’s hand frozen in mid-air and his face suddenly turn pale. He probably finally realized something had been severed for good.

But I didn’t pause for even a second. I just kept walking.