Chapter 2: Divorce Goes Viral

Ethan had just posted a status three minutes ago.

“@EthanMarshall: Everyone’s different. Let’s keep things civil.”

I froze.

While I was still processing, the comments exploded.

“Is he telling people not to bash Reese?”

“Ugh, my man! Calm, wise, generous… (and 99 more like this)”

“But he’s never done this before. Why is he speaking up for Reese?”

“Yeah, Ethan’s not the type to get involved. Something’s up!”

...

I shoved the phone back to Denise. My heart was pounding.

“What? What’s he even saying? I don’t get it.”

Denise eyed me skeptically.

“Really?”

I nodded furiously.

Still, Ethan’s post sent fan circles into a frenzy.

Because it was so out of character for him.

Luckily, his PR team was top-notch, so it didn’t mess up the show’s taping.

On recording day, I showed up early.

The moment I walked in, I saw Ethan chatting with the host, all warm and easy.

He was wearing a black silk shirt. The host kept gushing about how good he looked.

He chuckled softly.

“It was a gift from someone special.”

The host’s eyes went wide, totally caught off guard.

And I recognized it—the Christmas present I’d given him the year before.

My next step faltered. Suddenly, I couldn’t breathe.

He glanced over, as if he saw me, then added, slow and steady:

“But we’re not together anymore.”

The host let out a breath, relief written all over his face.

Ethan’s eyes stayed fixed on me the whole time.

It sent chills down my spine.

As the other guests arrived, I slipped into a seat off to the side.

The host started running through the schedule, and the guests tried to loosen up the mood.

Only Ethan sat there, stiff as a statue, barely saying a word.

When the topic turned to “what behavior annoys you most,” the host, noticing his silence, handed him the mic.

He paused, then his eyes drifted to me.

He flashed a sly, ambiguous smile.

“What bugs me most?”

“Probably when people ignore your real feelings.”

His voice was pure sarcasm, and the whole room reacted.

Indie darling Mia Torres covered her mouth: “Ooh, sounds like there’s a story!”

The other guests jumped in:

“Ethan, what happened? Spill!”

The host looked nervous, clearly worried he’d go too far, and quickly changed the subject:

“Haha, same here! Reese, what about you?”

I looked at Ethan, knowing full well he was aiming at me.

So I shot back, not missing a beat:

“People who kick you and steal the covers at night.”

The host was about to reply when Ethan suddenly let out a cold laugh next to me:

“Is that really why you wanted the divorce?”

The room went dead silent.

So did I.

Didn’t think anyone could out-crazy me. Guess I was wrong.

After a beat, I forced a smile.

“Ethan, that’s like doing a cannonball into a porta-potty—way outta line.”

He relaxed and smiled faintly.