Chapter 1

Everyone knew the acclaimed actor, Julian Reed, and the rising starlet, Fiona White, were practically smitten with each other.

He spent her birthdays with her, showered her with gifts, and protected her career in the cutthroat entertainment industry.

They were just one step away from making it official.

Until my personal blog, filled with sweet memories of Julian and me, was dug up.

Suddenly, the internet exploded with a torrent of abuse:

“Who’s this nobody trying to cling to fame?”

“Get lost, delusional fangirl!”

But then Julian left a comment for me:

“Haze, please come back. Let’s start over.”

I can’t come back, Julian.

I’m already gone.

【June 24, 2024, Sunny.

Julian Reed, I don’t like the tenth-anniversary gift you gave me. I’m mad. It’ll take ten kisses to make me feel better.】

It was a necklace, from one of my favorite niche designers.

I loved her philosophy: nothing in this world is meaningful unless it’s unique.

So, she only ever made one of each piece. One of a kind, irreplaceable.

I’d always wanted a piece of her work.

I once showed Julian a bracelet, telling him how much I loved it.

He sat there, chin propped on his hand, gazing at me with such tender affection.

“Hubby will buy it for you, Haze. Anything you want, I’ll get it.”

The memory was still so fresh, it could have been yesterday. But today, he’d given me a necklace.

Not the bracelet I’d been dreaming of.

A wave of disappointment twisted my already aching stomach, making me feel irritable.

I put down the necklace, met his eyes, and asked,

“Why isn’t it that bracelet?”

His expression flickered with panic for a second, but he quickly covered it up.

He said with a feigned regret,

“I’m so sorry, Haze. I was too late; that bracelet had already sold.”

“This necklace is beautiful too. It’ll look stunning on you.”

I stared into his carefully composed eyes, managing a bitter smile.

Julian Reed.

Julian Reed.

I never wear necklaces. Had you forgotten?

After what happened, how could I ever dare to wear one?

That night, Julian pulled me close in bed.

He pressed soft kisses to the back of my neck, feigning endless tenderness.

“Haze, happy tenth wedding anniversary.”

In the darkness, I gave a mocking little tug at the corner of my mouth.

Julian, today isn’t our tenth wedding anniversary.

Yesterday was.