Chapter 2

Jane's POV

Caroline took it and turned it.

"There's an engraving... that's so sweet." Her voice dripped honey but her eyes were sharp as glass. "Andrew, did you—"

"Oops!"

She dropped it.

I watched the ring fall in slow motion, landing right at the edge of the table in a pile of lobster shells, dried sauce, and half-eaten food.

"Oh my God!" Caroline's hand flew to her mouth. "I'm so sorry! I'm such a klutz!"

Andrew looked annoyed. "Caroline, seriously."

"I know, I'm the worst! Jane, I'm so sorry!"

I was about to say something, but Andrew cut me off, saying casually, "Don't worry about it, the ring's not worth much. Jane won't care."

"It's fine," I said, hearing Andrew's words and feeling too drained to say anything else, just going along with it. "Wasn't that expensive anyway."

"But I should replace it!" Caroline was already pulling out her phone. "Let me Venmo you right now. How much was it? Like fifty bucks? A hundred?"

Someone laughed.

"Looks like something from Venice Beach," some guy in a tux said to his date.

"Maybe twenty dollars?" someone else whispered.

Andrew stared at the ring sitting in garbage. "Yeah, don't worry about it. It's not worth anything."

I reached into the disgusting pile of food waste. Sauce got all over my fingers. A lobster shell cut my palm and I felt blood, warm and wet.

I didn't care.

I found the ring and pulled it out, covered in grease and sauce and bits of food. Tears were blurring everything but I blinked hard.

I stood up and wiped the ring with a napkin. Andrew and Caroline were just standing there watching me.

"You're right." My voice came out quiet. "It's not worth anything."

I walked over to the trash can and held the ring above it.

"Just like some promises. They sound pretty when you make them, then they end up in the garbage where they belong."

I let go.

"Jane—" Andrew said.

"I have to go." I turned before he could see my face. "Congratulations on your Oscar. You two are perfect together."

I made it three steps before Eric grabbed my arm.

"Jane! Where are you going?"

"Home." My voice cracked. "No. Not home. Andrew's place. To get my stuff."

"Get your stuff? What?"

I pulled away from him and kept walking. Behind me I heard Caroline doing her concerned act: "Is she okay? Should someone go after her?"

The valet brought my car and I gave him a twenty. I got in and locked the doors.

The second I pulled onto Sunset Boulevard, I started crying. I almost had to pull over.

The ring was gone.

But honestly? It stopped meaning anything a long time ago.

I sat on Andrew's couch at midnight staring at the walls.

Three years I'd lived here and there wasn't a single photo of me. Just Andrew. Andrew at the Emmys, Andrew on set, Andrew with directors and producers and co-stars. I was invisible even in the place I called home.

4 AM. The party must have ended but Andrew still wasn't back.

I should have left. But I needed to hear him say it. I needed to look him in the eye and make him tell me why.

Keys jangled in the lock at 4:47 AM.

Andrew walked in and stopped when he saw me sitting there in the dark.

"You're still up?"

"We need to talk."

He sighed and dropped his keys on the table. He looked tired but happy.

"I know what you want to say." He loosened his tie. "Just let me take a shower first, okay? I'm exhausted."

"Andrew."

"Jane, don't be like this." He was already walking toward his bedroom. "I said give me a minute."

I could only sit on the couch and keep waiting for him. Like I always waited.

He came out in a bathrobe with his hair still damp. He sat across from me and scrolled through his phone.

"You promised." I said. "You said when you won, you'd tell everyone about us."

"I know what I said." He didn't even look up. "But things changed."

"What changed?"

"Caroline is huge right now, Jane. Biggest actress of our generation. Me announcing a relationship with her is good for both our careers." He finally met my eyes. "It's just business."

"Business." I said the word. "The kiss was business too?"

"Yes, for the cameras." He said it so casually, "In a few months we'll announce a breakup. Mutual decision, still friends, all that. Then I can—"

"Then you can what? Announce us?" I laughed bitter.

He frowned. "Don't make this harder than it needs to be."

"You said on that stage that Caroline supported you for three years." The words got stuck in my throat. "We've been together for three years. What am I?"

"You know it's different."

"How?"

He rubbed his face. "Caroline's in the industry. She gets how this works. You and me, we can have what we have without the world needing to know about it."

"What we have." Something twisted in my chest. "What exactly do we have, Andrew?"

"Jane—"

"No, tell me. Because from where I'm sitting, you have an assistant who loves you, who gave up everything for you, who spent three years hiding and waiting while you got everything you wanted."

"I never asked you to give up anything!"

"You asked me to wait!" My voice cracked. "You asked me to trust you."

He went quiet.

"This is only temporary," he said finally. "Just a few more months. Caroline and I will stage a breakup and then—"

"Then what? You'll finally love me enough to let people know I exist?"

"Jesus Christ, Jane." He stood up. "Why are you being so dramatic? It's just a few months."

"I've given you three years."

"And I'm asking for a few more months!" He was getting angry now. "Is that really too much? After everything I've—" He stopped himself.

"After everything you've what? After everything you've given me?" I stood up too. "What have you given me, Andrew? Tell me one thing."

He stared at me. "I gave you a job. A good one. Access to this industry, to people you'd never meet otherwise. I—"

"I didn't want a job." My voice was shaking. "I wanted you."

"You have me."

"No." I shook my head. "I have your dirty laundry and your schedule and your coffee order. Caroline has you."

"For fuck's sake." He started walking to his bedroom. "I'm too tired for this. We'll talk tomorrow when you're being rational."

"I'm not being irrational," I said to his back. "I'm being realistic for the first time in three years. Let's break up."