I squeeze my eyes shut, forcing down the scream that wants to rip free. When I open them, I tip my head back and stare at the sky, half expecting the universe to take pity on me. To give me a sign. To give me… something. Anything. But there’s nothing. Just the dark.
Nothing but this hollow ache where she used to be.
I should chase her. I should fight.
But what would I even say? What could possibly make this better?
Nothing. I already destroyed us.
“Mr. Hollander?”
The voice barely registers. It takes me a second to blink back down, my head turning slowly toward the woman in front of me.
She’s wearing a headset, her expression painfully neutral. Professional.
Like my whole world hasn’t just imploded at my feet.
“The premiere is starting,” she says softly.
Right.
The premiere.
Like it matters.
I nod numbly. “Sorry. I’m coming.”
My voice is steady, somehow. My face falls back into the role like it always does.
Jake Hollander. Hollywood’s leading man.
Heartbreaker. Liar. Fraud.
I pull on my jacket, stand tall, and follow her back inside.
Tonight, I’ll play the hardest role of my life—pretending I’m not already broken.
The second I step into the room—right into the roar of cheers and applause—I feel it. The weight. The suffocating pressure.
And then I see him… Will.
He’s grinning like the charming asshole he is, but his eyes… they’re scanning the crowd, searching. He knows.
Maybe I’m not pretending as well as I think I am, or maybe it’s easier for one broken soul to recognize another.
The smile on my face physically hurts, my cheeks aching from the effort. I raise a hand, waving to the screaming fans, the cameras, the world.
And all the while, my lungs feel too tight, like I can’t pull in a full breath.
I sit, swallowing hard, my gaze flickering to the emptyseat beside me. The one I’d saved for her.
Before the ache can settle too deep, Will moves quietly and without a word. He abandons his spot at the end of the line, slips past the others, and drops down into the seat next to me.
I don’t look at him. I can’t. But my voice cracks as I whisper, “She’s gone.”
Will doesn’t say anything. Doesn’t need to. His hand lands heavy on my shoulder.
And for once, the loudest guy in the room just… sits there, silent and solid.
