4
The show filmed on weekends, following a “weekend couple” concept.
During the week, I went back to my old profession, trying to get my job back as a talent manager at my former entertainment group.
“Cole, and Vera are divorced,” my old boss told me. “His ten–year contract with her father’s company is finally up. He’s setting up his own studio,
and I recommended you to him.”
I went to the address he gave me and found Cole at a photo studio. His profile was silhouetted against the light, his features sharp and untamed.
It was a face made for the screen.
He was even harder to approach than I had imagined.
I waited outside for a long time.
Finally, his assistant came out. “I’m sorry, Ms. Taylor, we probably can’t talk today.”
On the way back, my car broke down.
Eleven o’clock at night, in the middle of nowhere, and it was raining.
I stood under my umbrella, waiting for a tow truck, watching the cars pass by like phantoms in the night.
None of them were for me.
Headlights flashed.
1
The window of a black minivan rolled down. Cole’s assistant said to me, “Ms. Taylor, get in.”
Cole was in the back seat, a baseball cap pulled low, asleep. His breathing was shallow, his long legs slightly bent. The space was a bit cramped
for him.
The van was filled with clutter, and two suit jackets hung by the window.
The crisp scent of pine.
The same scent from the day he had held my hand.
“Ms. Taylor, I’m going to grab a drink from the gas station up ahead. Do you want anything?” the assistant asked quietly.
“Just call me Chloe. I’ll go with you.”
“No, no,” he said, waving his hand as he got out. “I’ll go. I’ll be right back.”
The door closed, leaving just me and Cole in the van.
No one else.
No cameras.
The headlights flickered, casting the interior in a dim glow. Though we were separated by a row of seats, his breathing sounded as close as if it
were right next to my ear.
I stared out the window at the blue glow of the convenience store not far away, where the assistant was lingering by a shelf.
I remembered once, at a supermarket, seeing an ad for Vera.
“She’s so beautiful,” I had said to Ashton at the time.
His reaction was flat. “She’s okay.”
, I didn’t know that this “okay” would be the reason he stayed away from home, time and time again.
Chapter 1
Later, I heard from others that Vera was his first love. They had broken up when he was still struggling to make it big.
He couldn’t forget her.
2014
But at that moment, in the supermarket, he had just deftly changed the subject, asking me, “Sweetheart, you never dated anyone before me?”
“No,” I had said.
At least, that’s what I told everyone, including him.
In the van, someone was kicking my leg.
A long leg extending from the back seat. Not accidentally.
But deliberately, mischievously, childishly, kicking me in a soft rhythm.
I moved my legs out of his reach.
I didn’t say anything, didn’t turn around.
maintained my posture, as if nothing had happened.
“Chloe Taylor,” he said, his voice husky from sleep, laced with a reckless, youthful charm. “Long time no see.”
After all these years, why did he still like to say my name like that?
Just like in that small, humid, hot rental apartment…
Drowning again and again…
In his gentle yet unrestrained, invasive touch.
