After I filed for divorce from Evan, I posted a picture in my lingerie on Instagram. "Husband's not home, all alone and lonely. Looking for a good time. Any takers?" My feed exploded. While everyone was still reeling, his new girlfriend posted a picture of a sonogram. "For you, Mommy and Daddy will clear away any obstacles." Oh. I was the obstacle. I looked at the flood of "OMG, what happened?!" comments and replied to them all with the same three words. "He can't get it up." A 'like' notification popped up instantly. It was from Evan. 1 I was the one who asked for the divorce. Evan and I had been married for three years, and our relationship was always polite, almost formal. His company kept him busy; he was always out early and home late. I had been a stay-at-home wife for those three years, playing the part of the perfect, supportive partner. Three years, and we still didn't have any kids. The older relatives, especially his mother, went from being patient and understanding to pushy and annoyed. His mom dragged me to countless specialists. The result was always the same: I was perfectly healthy and capable of getting pregnant. "Then why hasn't it happened after all these years?!" she'd demand. One doctor finally sighed. "Pregnancy is a two-person job. You can't put it all on the woman. Maybe you should have the husband come in for a check-up?" His mom slammed her hand on the table, her face turning to ice. "Impossible! There's nothing wrong with my son!" Then, the suspicion turned back to me. "Ashley, are you and Evan secretly using birth control?" I wanted to scream. She'd rather believe I was lying to her than entertain the thought that her precious son might be the problem. "Mom, we both know how much everyone wants this. Why would we use birth control?" But the truth was, she was right. In our three years of marriage, Evan and I had never slept together. My mind went back to our wedding night. We both had too much to drink. I don't even remember what happened. When I woke up the next morning, Evan was already asleep in the guest room. And just like that, we silently agreed to sleep in separate rooms for three years. I tried. I really did. Countless times, I worked up the courage to invite him to bed. But he would always get this grim look on his face, like he was thinking of something deeply unpleasant, and then he'd turn me down. 2 About a year ago, his mom started sending over supplements and herbal teas every day. "Ashley, you're not working anyway. You might as well just focus all your energy on getting pregnant." Every day, I forced down the bitter concoctions under immense pressure. I complained to Evan when he got home late. "This stuff is so disgusting. I really don't want to drink it anymore." I looked at him, hoping for some support. But he just turned and walked into the guest room, tossing a single sentence over his shoulder. "If you don't want to drink it, then don't." I *wanted* to just pour it down the drain, but his mother's obsession with me getting pregnant was relentless. She always had someone watching me, waiting until I'd finished the last drop. I bit my lip and tried one more time. "Are you sleeping in the guest room again tonight?" The invitation was obvious. The only answer I got was the sound of the guest room door clicking shut. One attempt at intimacy, a lifetime of rejection. What was the point of all this medicine? Could I have a baby by myself? His mom called the next day. "Ashley, if you don't want to drink the medicine, you can just tell me. You don't have to have Evan pass along the message." I listened to her angry accusations. "Mom... that's not what I meant..." She hung up on me. 3 The moment I decided to divorce him was a month ago. A story broke online. "SHOCKING: Young Starlet and Her Sugar Daddy." The starlet, Chloe Vance, was a college classmate of mine. She'd had a small hit with a fantasy show right after graduation, then faded into obscurity. About six months ago, she suddenly made a comeback, landing a string of amazing roles. I was just casually scrolling through the gossip, but then I saw the pictures. The man with her, the one whose back and profile were all too familiar... it was Evan. Based on his clothes, it had to have been the night before. They were coming out of a high-end hotel, and Chloe was holding a bouquet of flowers, a blissful smile on her face. I was stunned. I refreshed the page, and in the time it took for the comments to load, every single post about the scandal had vanished. My hands trembled as I opened my Instagram. When Evan and I got married, I'd posted our wedding photos. Chloe followed me; she had to have known Evan was my husband. Evan's own profile was completely blank. But Chloe had, in fact, posted a picture from a hotel restaurant the night before. The caption was just a single heart emoji. I quickly sent Evan a text. "Come home early tonight. We need to talk." I rarely texted him. The last time was over a year ago. It took him a long time to reply with a simple "Ok." Evan and I met on a blind date. At the time, I was struggling to make it as an actress. Graduating at the top of my class from a prestigious acting program hadn't done me much good. My looks just brought me a lot of unwanted advances and sleazy comments. After one small role, I quit the business and agreed to my parents' matchmaking. 4 It was love at first sight for me. Evan was exactly my type. He had this cool, untouchable vibe. On our date, he wore a perfectly tailored suit that screamed "off-limits." And he was direct. The first thing he said to me was, "Will you marry me?" I was taken aback, thinking it was some kind of flirty line. I played along. "Sure. When are we going to the courthouse?" We moved so fast it shocked both our families. A few days later, his mom showed up at my parents' house with a prenuptial agreement. "Ashley, don't think I'm being difficult, but this is just a precaution." I knew what it was. A way to protect his assets. It was all about the money. "Was this his idea?" His mom nodded. "If you two are going to get married, you have to sign this." I didn't hesitate. I didn't even read the details. I signed it on the spot. I wasn't after his money. I was after him. Evan and I only saw each other twice before the wedding: the blind date, and the day we got our marriage license. My friends all thought I was wasting my life. "Ashley, you're so gorgeous. You could have been a huge star." "Getting married like this is such a waste." But I was giddy with the thought of being a bride. I was convinced Evan loved me. Why else would he propose on the first date? I didn't pay any attention to their warnings. I threw myself into being the perfect Mrs. Evans, taking care of his every need. But after that wedding night... he grew colder and colder. My confidence slowly eroded, and with it, my faith in our marriage. 5 Evan would occasionally take me to social events. The men would talk business while I played mahjong with the other wealthy wives. I was terrible at it. Every time we went out, I was just giving away money. Evan didn't care, of course. But I did. They invited me to every game because they knew I was an easy win. It wasn't about the money; it was about the thrill of victory. And I was the one who made that thrill possible for them. Still, I forced myself to try and fit in. Until one day... I was on a winning streak. For the first time ever, I was actually winning a lot. I turned to Evan, who was sitting nearby. "Evan, I'm finally winning!" I called out. The other wives all smiled and teased, "Ashley's on a roll today! We can't beat her." I was so happy. I went to the restroom, and on my way back, I overheard them talking. "Evan, why did you marry a woman like that?" "I know, right? Look how excited she gets over a little money." "An actress is an actress. No class. She'll never be one of us." Evan took a slow sip of his tea. "Then I won't bring her to play anymore. It's too annoying." I felt numb as I sat back down at the table. My mind was a million miles away. I quickly lost all my winnings and then some. Everyone was laughing and joking, but my own face was grim. There was a bitter taste in my mouth. "Oh dear, Ashley's not happy about losing. Evan, you'd better comfort her when you get home." On the drive home, I didn't say a word. I felt drained. Evan glanced at me. "It's just a little money. Don't be a sore loser. People will think you can't handle it." 6 I'd asked Evan to come home early. He was usually home by eight on the dot. Tonight, I waited until eleven. He broke his promise. When he finally walked in, I was sitting on the couch, waiting. "You're home." He looked exhausted and mumbled a reply. "Why aren't you in bed?" I forced a smile. "Don't you remember? I told you we needed to talk." His expression finally turned serious. I was about to speak. "Today..." His phone rang, cutting me off. He answered it immediately. We weren't far apart, and I could hear the woman's voice clearly. It was Chloe. "I'm free now. You can come over... the hotel... room number is..." Evan hung up and turned to leave. "I have something to do. We can talk some other time." I called out to his retreating back. "Are you going to see Chloe?" I can't keep things in. I had to say it. He stopped and turned to look at me. "You know?" I stood there, frozen. "It was on the news. It's hard not to." His phone rang again. "Hello... Be careful on your way over. Avoid the paparazzi... Okay." His voice was gentle. I bit my lip. "Don't you have anything to say to me?" He walked out the door. "There's nothing to explain. It is what it is." Evan didn't come home that night. In three years, no matter how busy he was, he always came home to sleep. This was the first time. 7 The next day, Evan still wasn't back. But Chloe was. She showed up at my door with a triumphant smile. "Ashley, long time no see." She walked in without waiting for an invitation. "Married all these years, and you never invited me over." That was rich. We were classmates, but we were never friends. And given her current relationship with Evan, she was clearly here to gloat. "How do you know where I live?" She wandered around the room. "Evan told me, of course." She walked up to me, a smug look on her face. "Where's his room? I'm here to pick up some of his things to take to his office." My face was a mask of cold fury. "You were with him all last night?" She nodded, completely unconcerned. "Obviously." The audacity. "When did this start?" Chloe pretended to think. "Let's see... about six months ago." Six months ago. When she suddenly made her comeback, showered with amazing opportunities. No doubt, all thanks to Evan. She smiled at me. "Don't worry, Ashley. You'll always be Mrs. Evans. I'm just here to grab a few things." I took a deep breath, trying to stay calm. "I'll have his things sent to his office. You can leave now." Chloe just shrugged. "Fine. I'll go. Evan said I'm not supposed to overexert myself lately." She deliberately placed a hand on her stomach. I clenched my fists. A flash of memory: me, choking down that bitter herbal medicine, the taste coating my tongue. As she was leaving, Chloe offered some "friendly" advice. "You know, Ashley, you were the star of our class. And look at you now. A woman needs her own career. If you rely on a man, you'll end up with nothing." 8 I had the divorce papers sent to Evan's office. Then I sent him a text. "Sign them. It's for the best." I packed my things, found a new apartment, and moved out. While I was moving, his mom called. "Ashley, a friend of mine told me about this amazing psychic..." "I'll take you to see him." It wasn't a question. It was a command. For years, I had dutifully accompanied her on her quest for a grandchild, seeing countless doctors, drinking endless concoctions. I was under so much stress, and Evan didn't seem to notice or care. And even now, his mom still thought it was my fault, never once considering that the problem might lie with her son. "Mom, Evan and I are divorced." I hung up. It was for the best. He never loved me anyway. I was the only one trying. Now he had a new girlfriend, so why should I keep trying? After I moved into my new place, I posted a sexy mirror selfie in my lingerie on Instagram. "Husband's not home, all alone and lonely. Looking for a good time. Any takers?" I rarely posted, and when I did, it was usually set to "close friends only." And never a lingerie pic. The comments flooded in. "??? What's going on? You two broke up?!" "Ashley, are you okay?!" "Hey there ;) can I take you up on that offer?" I replied to them all with the same message. "Divorced. His loss." My phone immediately started blowing up with calls. The first was from my best friend, Gina. She was a film director's assistant. When I got married, everyone was happy for me. Except her. "I don't approve!" she'd yelled. "Ashley, you're supposed to be the star of my first movie! You can't get married!" While I was on the phone with her, complaining, I refreshed my Instagram feed. I saw a new post from Chloe. A picture of a sonogram. The baby was healthy. The caption: "For you, Mommy and Daddy will clear away any obstacles." I laughed and went back to my own post. The comments were full of nosy questions. "Why the sudden divorce?" "OMG, this is so out of the blue!" I typed out the reason. "He can't get it up." A second after I posted it, a 'like' notification popped up. It was from Evan. 9 The divorce papers went unanswered. After I spread the rumor about his impotence, besides that one 'like', he didn't even call me. He didn't care that I was acting out. He didn't come looking for me. It was as if I never existed. Gina stayed on the phone with me all night. "I may not be a big shot, but I've been in this industry for three years. There's a supporting role in a new movie auditioning in a few days. I can get you a spot." Chloe was right about one thing. With no man in my life, I was free to focus on my career. Even though I hadn't acted in three years, I still had the skills. I was auditioning for a minor role, and Gina was in the room, cheering me on. "You were amazing, Ash! You nailed it!" The casting director looked over my resume, frowning. "We'll let you know," he said, a note of regret in his voice. As I was leaving the building, I ran into Chloe, surrounded by her entourage. She was wearing sunglasses, a smug smile on her face. She stopped in front of me. "Well, well, Ashley. Long time no see. Auditioning?" "What do you want?" I said, my voice cold. Chloe glanced at the script in my hand. "You don't actually think you'll get the part just because you can act, do you?" She shook her head, amused. "This is a big production. Every single role is already bought and paid for. There's no room for you." Everyone knows how Hollywood works. Today's audition was just a formality. Gina shot her a dirty look. "What, are you here to audition too, Ms. Big Shot?" Chloe scoffed. "Of course not. I'm the second female lead. I'm here to sign my contract." I forced a polite smile. "Congratulations." She grinned, enjoying her victory. "Are you mad? Top of the class, and you're still just an extra." She leaned in closer. "Or... you could beg me. I could probably get the director to give you a small part. After all, you were Mrs. Evans... past tense, of course." 10 A few days later, I got the call. "I'm sorry, Ms. Miller. You didn't get the part." I was silent. I already knew this was coming. "Okay, thank you." I was about to hang up when she said, "The role you auditioned for has been filled, but we do have another, smaller role available. The director saw your audition tape and really liked you. Would you be interested?" My spirits lifted. A role was a role. I wasn't going to be picky. "Yes, absolutely. When do I start?" My part wasn't big, so I didn't join the production until a few weeks into filming. The set was tense. Gina, in her role as the director's assistant, snuck over to me. "You're late, Ash. You missed the drama." Just then, I heard someone yelling from across the set. "Who ordered this lunch?! It's so greasy! How am I supposed to eat this?!" It was Chloe again. I hadn't even been on set for an hour and there was already gossip. She threw her lunch on the ground and started screaming at a young production assistant. Gina clicked her tongue, feeling sorry for the PA. "You have no idea. It's only been a few weeks, and Chloe and Maya are already at each other's throats. They've been fighting nonstop, and it's making the set a nightmare." Maya was the lead actress. She also had powerful backers, but she was a talented actress. She'd won a major award for a supporting role right out of college and a best actress award a few years later. I'd met her once before, at one of those mahjong games. She was the younger sister of one of the wives. An ice queen, with the awards to back up her arrogant attitude. Today, I had a scene with her. I was in costume and makeup, ready to go, but Maya was nowhere to be found. The director was fuming, glaring at the producer, who looked equally uncomfortable. "I'll go get her," he said, scurrying off. An hour later, Maya finally emerged from her trailer and slowly made her way to the set. She'd obviously heard about what had happened. The PA who'd been yelled at was hiding in a corner, crying. Maya looked over at Chloe, who was sitting next to the assistant director. "Can't fight your own battles, so you take it out on the little guys? How pathetic." Chloe ignored her. "Some people think they're so great, but they're just like me, riding on someone else's coattails." Everyone on set knew they both had powerful connections. The Chen family and the Evans family. No one wanted to get on the wrong side of either of them, so they just stayed out of it. But to be as blatant about sleeping your way to the top as Chloe was... that was something else. Maya took off her sunglasses and finally noticed me standing there. A wicked smile spread across her face. She called out to Chloe. "Isn't that Evan's precious little trophy wife? Are you the one I'm working with today?"
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