I’m lucky to be in the position I’m in, but being Mia Starr doesn’t come cheap.
“Thank you,” I say to the annoyed cab driver as I step out of the cracked back seat. Mia would have a private driver or take an Uber at the very least, but I’m making do—sharing my content in a fresh way that cleverly overlooks the fact that our lifestyle isn’t what it once was. Dean has been under a lot of stress, and I’ve spent the last year escaping into Mia’s life. I even joke with Dean sometimes and ask,What would Mia do?
He always scoffs and rolls his eyes like my brand is only a little hobby. And maybe it once was, but as soon as we had Jesika’s face in our back pocket, the follower count grew exponentially. Authenticity reigns in a world of online scammers and social media fake filters, and I’ve done everything I can to lean into that. Dean has withdrawn more over the months, distancing himself from all that Mia Starr is, but she’s become my everything. My reason for waking up in the morning and putting one foot in front of the other when it feels like everything else in our lives is falling apart.
Stepping into the condo, I can tell Dean is home already. He isn’t usually home from the office until late evening, often taking clients out to dinner or scheduling meetings for later in the day with contractors, so it’s unusual that I can hear the low murmur of his voice on a phone call. A smile turns up my lips as I kick off my Fendi slides and move through the rooms in search of him. By the time I find him, I realize there’s a reason he’s home early, and it’s not good.
“I think it’s time we call this, Shae.”
He doesn’t smile when I step into his office. He hasn’t smiled for a while when we’ve greeted each other after along day. In fact, he’s been sleeping on the sofa in his office more nights than not, but I like to assume it’s because he’s working late. Not because of me.
“What do you mean?” I settle myself in the armchair opposite his desk and sigh.
“Sign these. I’ve been generous.”
“Generous?” My eyes cut to the paperwork he’s sliding across the polished mahogany. “Generous about what?”
My husband presses his lips together and tosses a pen onto the stack of papers. “I kept everything simple, straightforward. You can hire a lawyer if you want, but you’re entitled to fifty percent of everything I earned while we were together.”
“What?” Fear bubbles up inside me.
“We’ve been headed in this direction for a while, you know we have. Please don’t make it more difficult by acting blindsided.”
“Dean…” I can’t look at the paperwork. I can only hold his hardened gaze. “Please,” I beg. “Is this about her?” I finally ask, my tone accusatory.
“Of course not.”
I grit my teeth. He averts his eyes to the window that overlooks the street below us. I have the sudden urge to throw something at his head, but I temper my rage. For now.
“Please, just sign them.”
I’m fuming. My fingers shake as I pick up the pen, and instead of signing the divorce papers like he’s asking, I whip it at his head. “I won’t do it.”
“Shae, for chrissakes, it doesn’t matter if you sign them. California is a no-fault state. The judge will grant me the divorce, and I’m giving you half of everything I have.”
“You don’t have anything to give, you asshole!”
Dean only shrugs. “I gave you a good life.”
“Until you started fucking other people.” I’m seething, and suddenly, I wish he were dead.
He only rolls his eyes. “Listen, I understand you’re hurt, but you knew I was like this. We met while I was still married to Denise. Come on, you knew who I was. I never tried to hide anything from you.”
“So…so, I should have seen this coming? I thought you loved me.”
“I did. Of course I loved you. I still do.”
Tears burn at my eyelids. He’s the closest thing to love I’ve ever felt.
“I did the best I could by you, Shae. But come on, you know things haven’t been the same since she came into our lives.”
I know byshe, he means Mia Starr, my online persona. He’s been constantly annoyed by how much time I spend inLa-La Land,as he calls it. When we’re at dinner, he grumbles when I ask him to take a photo of me, revealing just enough to make it authentic without revealing so much that followers recognize that I am not who they think I am. He thinks I’ve become obsessed. I think he’s jealous of the attention I’m receiving. We agreed to disagree over this long ago, but apparently Dean has come to some decisions all on his own.
“I’m leaving tonight. I’d like to drop the papers off with the attorney in the morning, but I’m gonna need you to sign them first.”
Dejected, I grit my teeth and take the new pen he’s offering me. “Did you tell the attorney you’re fucking someone else?”
“It’s not relevant. We don’t have kids, our savings has dwindled to nothing, and we cashed out our long-term investments last year to float the mortgage on the Nichols Canyon bungalow before it sold. Give it a look-over. I have time. I can wait.”
