When an A-list actor adjusted my microphone, he unconsciously kissed my hair. We both froze. Because this was a reality show about divorce. And we were from two different former couples. 01 After my divorce from Ethan Vance, everyone assumed I would cling to him. He had publicly announced our marriage at the peak of his career. After tying the knot, he successfully transitioned from a teen idol to a serious actor. When he finally won his first major award, people still brought me up. "What gives her the right? She’s so lucky." I was the one who asked for the divorce. But it was what he had been waiting for all along. While he was playing house on set with Chloe Sterling, his co-star in his new drama—wearing his jackets, using his phone case... I was still at home, flipping through the calendar, waiting for him. Time and again, he hung up my calls, using work as an excuse. Until one day, I ran into Chloe in first class. She greeted me warmly, a bright smile on her face. "Did you know?" she whispered in my ear. "I bought this ticket using his credit card." She did it on purpose. Trying to force me into a divorce. I gave her exactly what she wanted. I went home and packed my bags in half an hour. I don't want something that someone else has already dirtied. Thank god we didn't have kids. Ethan leaned against the doorframe, watching me. His reaction was flat. He only asked one question: "What else do you want?" "Your phone." He paused for a second, but then handed it straight to me. During the years he loved me most—when I stayed by his side from D-list obscurity to A-list stardom—I was always his only pinned contact. Now, I had been replaced. I was relegated to "Do Not Disturb." An uncontested divorce. He gave me everything he earned over those years, asking only that I let him go as quickly as possible. He told me he truly loved Chloe. After signing the non-disclosure agreement, I thought we would never speak again. Until he called me one last time. "Let's meet up." It was the first month after our divorce. "We can't let my fans know I cheated. The new drama is about to air." I arrived early. In the break room, I overheard Ethan's manager trying to persuade him. "Even after a divorce, you're still an A-list actor. And her? Just an absolute nobody waiting to be laughed at. "She's definitely not over it. "Just trick her. Tell her you want to go on a divorce reality show with her. "Make her think there's a chance to win you back, and she'll do everything to please you. "Then, we'll edit the show to make the audience find her annoying, and you can maintain your 'devoted ex-husband' persona." The manager nudged him. "Are you even listening?" Ethan had his legs propped up on a low table, lazily playing a game on his phone. He gave a noncommittal "Yeah." "Trust me, you crook your finger, and she'll come running back like a dog, grateful for the attention." In the meeting room. Ethan was playing with his phone with one hand. He only said a few words. And I agreed. "I'll do the show." He stared into my eyes, pausing for a moment. "Are you really... that desperate for me?" He was too confident, too easy to fool. I lowered my eyelashes. "Yes. "Ethan, is there still a chance for us?" His gaze turned cold. He looked away and said softly, "Depends on your behavior." "But," he added, "the script for this show isn't what you think." This divorce reality show. It was scheduled to air while his new drama with Chloe was broadcasting. To drum up publicity for their on-screen romance. The theme of the show was "Seeing Marital Problems by Changing Lifestyles." Chloe would be sharing a room with him. And I would be sharing a room with Chloe's ex-husband. That guy, Carter Hayes, who skyrocketed to fame at nineteen with a single drama, won a grand slam of awards, and then abruptly retired to get married. Ethan was just the guy who picked up the scraps Carter left behind. He became famous because his face looked seventy percent like Carter's. Rumor had it that Chloe and Carter lived apart after getting married. That she loved him, but couldn't have him. 02 A hot spring resort. Two rooms, separated by a single wall. The show was broadcast live. There was an observation room on set and live comments from the audience online. [Ethan Vance and Chloe Sterling on a divorce show, sharing a room? They're playing hard!!!] [Their chemistry is insane! So perfect together.] [Told you Ethan and his wife had no feelings left. No one likes the one holding them back.] [I've been waiting for them to divorce for so long!] [Was he blind? He loved her so much back then...] The staff strapped heart rate monitors on Ethan and Chloe. "If your heart rate reaches 70, you can leave the room." [They'll break that in seconds, right?] To everyone's surprise, both of their heart rates stalled at 68. They had done everything together off-camera. They were too familiar with each other, afraid of slipping up and showing it. So they ended up acting overly cautious on the show. [Chloe is so polite, she doesn't even dare get too close.] [Ethan, stop holding back! We support you!] Chloe sat by the door. Ethan stood on the balcony for some fresh air. From a certain angle, he could see into my room. Carter hadn't arrived yet. I was sitting alone on the edge of the bed, wearing my heart rate monitor. Someone knocked on the door. It was a tall, slender man. A baseball cap hid half his face, and his damp bangs were dusted with mist from the hot springs. It was drizzling outside. He carried the crisp, cold scent of a foggy midnight. [MY FIRST LOVE IS BACK!!!] [How should I put this, Ethan... comparison is the thief of joy.] [Let's not pit them against each other.] "You have to put this on." I handed the other heart rate monitor to Carter. Ethan always hated it when people said he looked like Carter. In our first year of marriage, we were taking a walk on the street late at night. I froze, staring at a massive luxury billboard featuring Carter. Ethan pulled a beanie over my head, blocking my view, and muttered sourly: "I knew you liked this type of face." And now. In the other room, Ethan was on the balcony. Watching clearly. Watching Carter walk into the room and close the door behind him. Putting on the monitor. Ethan didn't care. He had known since that night that the man he could never catch up to, the man he was insanely jealous of—Carter—was only married to Chloe out of a contractual obligation. Carter didn't even like Chloe. Naturally, it was even more impossible for him to like someone as incredibly ordinary and divorced as me, someone Ethan himself looked down on. Ethan scoffed lightly, completely unbothered. Yet, he scrutinized my reaction without missing a single detail. "Hello, I'm Audrey Miller." My heart rate was resting at 50 as I held out my hand to Carter. "Hello, I'm Carter Hayes." He took my hand. A few seconds later, a sharp, piercing beep came from the monitor. Carter's heart rate had skyrocketed, breaking the limit. But the man himself was calmer than anyone else. He said, "The monitor is broken." I said, "Oh." 03 They changed the monitor, and sure enough, it was normal. After a few cooperative games, Ethan and Chloe's heart rates surpassed 70, and they left their room early. But on my end. Carter's heart rate remained stubbornly stuck at 25. Pathetically low. "If it never goes over," I asked the staff, "do we have to spend the night in the room?" Carter heard that. His shoulders were broad, his back straight. He was wearing a thin black hoodie, his gaze empty and distant. The staff replied, "It counts as a failed mission. You can come out in an hour." Carter and I were the last to come out. [That was such a fail.] [Zero chemistry between those two.] [Take her away, can we please not show her? I only want to watch Chloe and Ethan.] The live comments were dismal until the broadcast ended. Post-interviews were held in the various rooms. Cameramen, lighting crew, people everywhere. Ethan stood in a corner, watching Chloe getting interviewed, his gaze accidentally sweeping over me. "Excited?" He asked me out of nowhere. "Did you think for even a second that Carter might actually be interested in you?" I ignored him and tried to leave. But he blocked me. "What to do, Audrey," he put his hands in his pockets and tilted his head to look at me. "I'm starting to feel that divorcing you was the best decision I ever made." Someone walked past, and Ethan straightened up. Back to his gentle, affectionate, yet broken persona. As if I was the one who had hurt him the most. After Chloe finished her interview, she walked up to me under everyone's gaze and grabbed my hand. "Audrey," she had a worn red string tied around her wrist, "you really need to cherish Ethan. He truly loves you." That red string. I had seen it before. For our anniversary last year, Ethan was tailed by a stalker fan and got into a minor car accident. He was fine. I dragged him up a mountain to pray at a temple, closing my eyes and filling my heart with prayers for his safety. When I opened my eyes, I saw him buying that red string. I thought he was going to give it to me. But he said he bought it for himself, to put my mind at ease. And now, it was on Chloe's wrist. "Stop being unreasonable," Chloe was still talking for the cameras. "I want you two to be happy more than anyone." I didn't say a single word. Ethan didn't know. And Chloe didn't know either. Actually, there was another, hidden reason I agreed to participate in this show, a reason I couldn't tell anyone. When I closed my eyes that day at the temple, it wasn't Ethan in my heart. 04 The reality show was filmed on weekends. The concept was "Weekend Spouses." During the weekdays. I picked up my old career, wanting to return to my previous entertainment agency as a talent manager. "Carter and Chloe are divorced." My former boss told me. "He signed a ten-year contract with Chloe's dad's company, and now he can finally terminate it. "He's restructuring his studio, and I recommended you to him." Following the address he gave me, I saw Carter at a photo studio. His profile was backlit, his features sharp and rebellious. It was indeed a face made for the silver screen. He was even harder to approach than I imagined. I waited outside for a long time. Until his assistant ran out and told me. "I'm sorry, Ms. Miller. We probably can't meet today." On the way back, my car broke down. At 11 PM, in the middle of nowhere, and it was raining. I held an umbrella, waiting for the tow truck. Watching the cars drive past from afar, like phantoms moving through the night. Not a single one was coming to pick me up. Headlights flashed in front of me. The window of a black SUV rolled down, and Carter's assistant said to me: "Ms. Miller, get in the car first." Carter sat in the very back, a baseball cap pulled over his eyes, fast asleep. His breathing was shallow, his long legs slightly bent. The space was a bit cramped for him. There was a lot of clutter in the car, and two suit jackets were hanging by the window. A crisp scent of pine. The smell of his hand when he shook mine that day. "Ms. Miller, I'm going to buy a bottle of water at the gas station up ahead. Do you want anything?" the assistant asked me quietly. "Just call me Audrey. I'll go with you." "Ah," he waved his hand and got out of the car. "I'll go. I'll be right back." The door closed, leaving only Carter and me in the car. No one else. And no cameras. The headlights flickered slightly; the interior of the car was dim. Even though there was a row of seats between us, his breathing felt as close as if it were right in my ear. I stared out the window at the blue glow of a convenience store not far away, where the assistant was wandering near a shelf. I remembered once, while grocery shopping, I saw a billboard with Chloe on it. "She's so pretty." I said to Ethan back then. His reaction was flat. "She's alright." I didn't know. That "alright" was the reason he stopped coming home, time and time again. Later, I found out from others that Chloe was his first love. They broke up when he couldn't catch a break in his career. He never forgot her. But back then, in the grocery store, he smoothly changed the subject and asked me: "Baby, did you ever date anyone before me?" "No." At least, that's what I told him, and what I told the world. In the car, someone was kicking my calf. The long leg stretching from the back seat wasn't an accident. It was deliberate, mischievous, childish, and rhythmic. I pulled my leg back out of his reach. I didn't speak, nor did I turn around. I maintained my previous posture, as if nothing had happened. "Audrey Miller." He spoke up, perhaps just waking up, carrying a trace of reckless, youthful energy: "Long time no see." It had been so many years. Why did he still like calling my full name like that? Just like in that cramped, hot, and humid rented apartment... Drowning again and again... In his gentle yet unrestrained, uncontrolled hands. 05 After that day, Carter and I had no further contact. Until the new weekend arrived. The live broadcasts for the show operated on a rotation system. This weekend, we were supposed to switch back to our original couples. "Director." Chloe sounded incredibly understanding, looking like she was thinking only of the show. "The audience loves Ethan and me together. If you switch us back now, you'll get backlash." The director thought for a few seconds: "But—" "Ethan," Chloe turned around, "what do you think?" Right in front of me, she asked Ethan: "Who do you choose tonight?" She had been waiting for this moment for a long time. The more something is kept in the dark, the more it craves to be chosen in front of everyone. Ethan understood her intentions. He deliberately let his gaze sweep over my face, then leaned back in his chair. "Is that even a choice? "The audience doesn't want to see her." Chloe got the answer she wanted and looked at me again. "Audrey, you won't mind, will you? "But, you've been a housewife for so long, you don't have much work experience, so you probably don't know this... the audience's preference is the most important thing. You should think of the bigger picture..." "Okay." My tone was crisp. Hearing this, Ethan looked up at me. They all thought I was going to throw a fit. That way, they could edit my reaction into the bonus episodes to highlight Chloe's thoughtfulness and understanding. They didn't expect me to be so agreeable. Chloe, having finally memorized her lines for the morning, had nowhere to use them. After a long pause, she managed to squeeze out: "That's good. No backing out now." I said: "Let's keep it like this from now on." Her smile stiffened. Then, breaking into a smile, she tucked her hair behind her ear and whispered: "Are you trying to make Ethan jealous? "Who doesn't know you came on this show to win him back? "What a shame, not only is he not jealous, but you can only watch helplessly as he walks into my room." Over there, the production team called out. They decided to stick with last week's setup. Before leaving, Ethan asked Chloe a question with a teasing undertone: "Aren't you afraid of her being in the same room as Carter?" At the mention of that name, Chloe's reaction was a bit exaggerated. She acted as if she had heard the funniest joke in the world. "I've never seen him like anyone. "Her? "You could lock them together for a year, and he still wouldn't look twice at her." The two exchanged glances and shared a knowing smile. Ethan purposely took off his coat and draped it over Chloe right in front of me. "Audrey, if you want to win me back, these little tricks aren't going to cut it." He wanted to provoke me. Make me break down and go crazy in public, so he could logically play the victim. Ethan and Chloe were taken to a luxurious mansion. That was the reward for the couple with the highest heart rate from last week. Chloe posted a picture of a candlelit dinner on Instagram. The comments were flooded with people shipping them. I saw all of this on my phone while riding in the production team's van. The van was heading toward the older part of the city. [If their heart rates don't go up today, they'll be eliminated, right?] [They wouldn't eliminate Carter. He's too big of a star. They'll probably just swap his partner.] [This is boring. Why would Carter even agree to a show like this?] [The weirder it gets, the more I ship it. I have a feeling something is going to happen.] [The person above is delusional!!! If something actually happens, I'll do a handstand and eat shit!!!] I put my phone away and asked the staff: "Where are Carter and I staying tonight?" "Your heart rates were the lowest, so you have to accept the punishment. Tonight you're staying in..." The van stopped. He lifted his chin, pointing at the old residential building in front of me. "There," he said. "A cheap rental apartment." We got out. There was only one camera inside the vehicle filming me. It was far away, only capturing my back. It couldn't pick up audio. I stood at the door. My mind went blank for a few seconds. I took out my phone and called my former boss, who also happened to be my long-suffering best friend. "Carter said 'long time no see' to me." Right now, I desperately needed her to pour a bucket of cold water on me. "So what? "What else is he supposed to say besides that?" My best friend responded exactly as I expected. "To put it bluntly, everyone has an ex. "He has so many options, why would he choose a divorced woman like you? "Just because of the few months you relied on each other? Be honest, that was the absolute lowest point of his life. Who would be nostalgic for that?" She was right. I hung up the phone. I turned the doorknob. Carter was on a ladder, fixing a ceiling light. As he reached up, his movements casually revealed the flex of his lean muscles and smooth lines. Just like back then. Except now he wore a bandage wrapped around his waist from doing wirework on a movie set. The old tungsten bulb flickered in his hands. Going out, then coming back on. It was too familiar. So much so that I stood in the doorway, unable to step inside for a long time. "Time to eat." He saw me. Simple words, devoid of extra emotion. It made my unease seem exceptionally strange. I was the one overthinking it. To him, this show was probably just a safe PR move to wrap up his marriage. Outside, it was snowing. Tall, with sharp features, he stood by the counter preparing a hot pot with one hand. He radiated a very domestic, "husband material" vibe. I took a picture of his back and posted it on Instagram. Considered it fulfilling the production team's task. After we ate, he didn't let me wash the dishes. He moved swiftly, washed his hands, and then, inexplicably and automatically, started making the bed for me. There was only one bed. He said he would sleep on the floor. "The injury on your waist, do you need to change the bandages?" I asked him. "I can do it myself," he said. When I finished my shower and came out of the bathroom, a thin quilt was already laid out on the floor. He was pulling a long roll of bandages out of his suitcase. I instinctively looked away and picked up my phone. Ethan had sent me a voice message. My hands were wet, and I accidentally played it on speaker. Ethan had seen my Instagram post. "Are you even used to eating hot pot? "Last time at home, you said you wanted a cake from that one bakery. I bought it for you on my way." That cake was the one I said I wanted for my birthday last year. He never bought it for me. After waiting all this time, him buying it now was only to solidify his "devoted" persona for the show. I looked at my phone. The overhead light was blocked by Carter. "Can you help me?" In his hands was the roll of bandages. Didn't he just say he could do it himself? Changing the dressing, wrapping the bandage. My arms weren't long enough; I had to loosely encircle him with both arms. In this rental apartment in the north. The heating was inadequate, and the smell of snow mixed with rain seeped through the cracks of the old building. It was clearly very cold. But he and I maintained our distance. My fingertips only touched the bandage. His face could only turn to look elsewhere. Unlike that year, in that rental apartment in the south. Stiflingly hot and dark. It was clearly very hot. Yet, time and time again, as if there were no tomorrow, we possessively claimed each other. Click. The tungsten light flickered on. He and I stood beneath the light at this moment. In the year we were so poor and destitute we had no hope, we couldn't even bear to replace a single lightbulb. We just made do. That old tungsten bulb was repaired over and over again. It would always flicker in the middle of the night. At the time, an eighteen-year-old Carter told me: "Every time it flickers, it means I'm thinking of you." Tonight. At an age where we lacked for nothing. The tungsten light flickered countless times. I looked up and said to Carter, "Did you not fix it properly just now?" He froze, looking down straight into my eyes. "Yeah. "I did it on purpose." I asked him, "Why?" "If I fixed it, you wouldn't hear it flicker." I was stunned. He took the bandage from my hand and swiftly, expertly wrapped it around himself with his other hand. "Audrey Miller." He called my name. "Hmm?" "Do you prefer hot pot, or cake?" One must always answer questions about food honestly. "Hot pot."
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