Chapter 3
His breathing turned heavy on the line – that familiar warning sign before a storm. I’d heard this pattern countless times over our five years together.
I hung up and turned off my phone.
Using my work phone, I contacted all the major entertainment reporters in the country. I told them to run with the story of Ryan carrying Olivia to the hospital, suggesting they dig deeper into their past connection.
“Ms. Mitchell, are you sure about this?” The reporters couldn’t hide their shock. Their voices wavered between professional calm and barely contained excitement.
Can’t blame them for being surprised. For years, I’d been the one paying to bury these stories, always explaining them away as on–set chemistry for the cameras. But now, with divorce papers waiting in my drawer, I needed leverage for our asset split. “One condition,”
I said firmly.
The reporters paused, their silence expectant. “Go ahead.”
“Fifty percent of the profits. If you agree, we sign now, and I’ll provide you with more insider details.” My voice remained steady as I made the offer.
My confidence made them hungry. Nothing sells better than a star’s secret romance, especially one with a history.
By morning, Ryan and Olivia’s high school sweetheart story dominated entertainment news. Their reunion was everywhere, spawning endless speculation and fan theories. Instead of running my usual damage control, I was interviewing potential replacements for
my position.
That night, Ryan rushed home from his shoot in another city. The moment he walked in, I could smell Olivia’s perfume/clinging to his clothes, mixed with hospital antiseptic.
“Nothing to say for yourself?” he demanded, his voice tight with barely controlled anger.
His stare was cold and deadly, reminding me of the snake I’d faced on that mountain. Some
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Too Late to Say Sorry
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Chapter 9
predators, I’d learned, showed their true nature only when cornered.
“Do you realize what you’ve done to Olivia’s career? Reporters are surrounding her house. She can’t even step outside!” His voice rose with each word.
I kept watching TV and eating chips, not bothering to look up. “Isn’t this exactly what the fans want? Perfect publicity for the show. I made this decision after weighing the pros and cons,” I said calmly, letting each word sink in.
Those were his exact words from two years ago.
Back then, Olivia was filming her first major scene – a dramatic cliff fall. Right before shooting, she’d turned on the waterworks about her fear of heights. To keep production moving and make it look authentic, Ryan had volunteered me as her double, forcing me to jump from over thirty feet with no safety equipment.
“The crew has safety measures at the bottom. What are you waiting for?” he’d said, impatience clear in his voice.
“Ryan… I’m scared of heights too.” I’d grabbed his arm desperately, only for him to shake
me off like an annoying child.
“When did you get so difficult?” he’d sneered. “Olivia shows up and suddenly you’re afraid
of heights? Are you putting on an act?”
“But I really can’t…” I’d sobbed, trembling at the edge.
“No more excuses! I’ve weighed the pros and cons.” With those words, Ryan had pushed me
off the cliff, my scream echoing against the rocks.
My face never even showed in the final cut. Even now, fans praise Olivia for never using
doubles in her stunts. That scene launched her career into the stratosphere. Me? That fall
without safety measures left me with a broken leg and six months in the hospital.
During my entire stay, Ryan visited exactly once – when Olivia needed a bandage for a cat scratch. Even though I was in the next room, he wouldn’t step inside, claiming it would
dirty his shoes. I’d listened to their laughter through the thin hospital walls, clutching my
pain medication.
Now he stood speechless in our living room, my words finally hitting their mark. The
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Chapter 3
silence stretched between us, heavy with unspoken accusations.
Silently, I pulled out the prepared divorce papers, placed them on the coffee table, and said
with a calmness that surprised even me, “Ryan,
let’s
get
divorced.”
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