First message
I walk into the busy set, the hum of activity around me barely registering as I scan the room. Then, I spot them: my husband, James, standing next to a young actress. She’s talking animatedly, clearly engaged in some conversation. The way she leans in, the way she laughs at something James said—it’s enough to make me stop in my tracks. My chest tightens, but I force myself to breathe. This isn’t high school. I’m not jealous of some young starlet trying to worm her way into his attention. No, not that. But there’s something about the way they look so comfortable together, and I can’t help but feel a flicker of something cold. I take a deep breath, smoothing my hand over the script tucked in my arm, then walk over casually, forcing a smile as I approach.”James,” I say, my voice warm, but there’s an edge to it that I’m not sure I can hide. “Having an interesting conversation, are we?”I give the young actress a polite nod, my gaze lingering just long enough for her to feel