Burned By Him, Reborn A Star

He hesitated. His thumb hovered over the decline button. For a second, Evelyn thought he might actually choose her.

Then he swiped green.

"Serena?" His voice was tight.

Evelyn sat on the edge of the bed, pulling the towel tighter around herself. She watched him.

"Julian!" Her voice was shrill, loud enough for Evelyn to hear. "The paparazzi are inside the hotel! They're in the lobby, trying to get to the elevators. I can't leave my room! I'm scared, Julian, I can't breathe!"

Julian's posture shifted instantly. The tension in his shoulders turned into protective alertness. "Did you call hotel security?"

"They're trying to clear them out, but it's a zoo! Please, come back. You're the only one who can handle them. Please, Julian." Sobs racked her voice.

Julian looked at Evelyn. He looked at her bandaged leg, then at the torn papers on the bed. He was torn. Evelyn could see the calculation in his eyes-Evelyn is here, she's safe, she's just angry. Serena is trapped.

"I'll be there," he said.

He hung up.

"Harrison is downstairs," he said to Evelyn, not meeting her eyes. "He'll stay with you. I'll send a doctor. I just... I need to handle this. She's fragile, Evelyn. You're strong. You've always been the strong one."

Evelyn stood up. Her legs were shaking, but she forced them to hold her.

"Go," she said. "But know this: if you walk out that door, you don't come back."

He sighed, running a hand through his hair. He walked over to Evelyn, intending to kiss her forehead-a reflex, a habit.

As he leaned in, the smell hit her again. That cloying, sweet gardenia scent clinging to his lapel. It mixed with the smell of her own burnt hair and the antiseptic.

It was the smell of betrayal.

Evelyn's hand moved before her brain registered the decision.

Smack.

The sound was like a gunshot in the quiet room.

Her palm stung. Julian's head snapped to the side. He froze, his hand coming up to touch his cheek. He looked at Evelyn, his eyes wide with shock. She had never raised a voice to him, let alone a hand.

"You disgust me," Evelyn whispered.

Julian's shock turned into a cold fury. He straightened his jacket. "We will discuss your behavior when I return. When you are less... hysterical."

He turned on his heel and walked out.

Evelyn listened to his footsteps fade. She listened to the front door slam. She listened to the silence rushing back in to fill the void he left.

She didn't cry. She was done crying.

She moved with mechanical precision. She dressed in the jeans and t-shirt she had packed. She put on a pair of sneakers, wincing as she tied the laces.

Evelyn walked into the massive walk-in closet. It was filled with thousands of dollars of clothes he had bought her. She grabbed armfuls of them-Chanel, Dior, Prada-and threw them onto the floor. She kicked a pair of Louboutins across the room.

She took only what was hers. Her laptop. Her hard drive. Her passport.

She walked out to the foyer. On the marble console table, there was a crystal bowl where they kept keys.

Evelyn twisted the diamond ring off her finger. The 'Vance Rose,' a five-carat pink diamond that weighed down her hand like a shackle. It left a pale indentation on her skin, a ghost of a marriage.

She dropped the ring into the bowl. Clink.

She took the elevator down. The doorman, Ralph, looked surprised to see her with a suitcase at 11 PM.

"Mrs. Vance? Do you need the car?"

"No, Ralph."

"But... sir just left. Did you miss him?"

Evelyn pushed through the revolving doors into the cool night air. A black Uber was waiting at the curb.

"I didn't miss him, Ralph," she said over her shoulder. "I finally escaped him."

She got into the car. "Brooklyn," she told the driver.

As the car pulled away, Evelyn didn't look back at the Vance Tower piercing the sky. She looked forward, into the dark, unknown city.