I Fought for His Love but Remained Second Best

It’s a pity that I haven’t seen those eyes again in the past ten years.

I wish I could see them one last time.

Before I lost consciousness completely, my fingers instinctively grasped a jagged log from an old tree on the shore. Using the last of my strength, I wedged my arm into a splintered branch.

Blood poured out, revealing bone.

The raging river fought to drag me away, and the gash on my arm tore wider and wider.

But I clung to the trunk, desperate to survive.

Because I was also pregnant—with Shane’s child.

When I regained awareness, my consciousness floated above my own body.

I could feel my breath, my heartbeat—weakening, fading.

I didn’t have much time left.

I looked at the two heartbeats—one large, one small—tethered to my wrists.

And in the next blink, I was back in the studio.

Assistant Ruth was sobbing, clutching a frayed life rope.

"Director Dean... the safety rope broke... What if something happens to Joann? We need to call the police!"

Shane hesitated for a moment.

I seized the chance to approach him, trying to press the amulet I always carried into his hands.

If he had it, maybe he’d save me.

Maybe he’d save our child.

But his voice was indifferent.

"Joann is a strong swimmer. She’s just throwing a tantrum. Don’t worry about her. Harriet isn’t feeling well—everyone, hurry up and finish this scene."

My steps faltered. The amulet slipped from my fingers and hit the ground with a dull thud.

So that was it.

He had no intention of looking for me at all.

All that desperate struggling, all that time I fought to survive, hoping someone would come—

It was nothing but a cruel joke.

"But Director Dean," Ruth cried, eyes brimming with anger, "just now, Harriet lost a hairpin, and you made everyone stop searching for it. But now a person is missing, and you don’t even care?!"

How could she understand?

The moon is always surrounded by stars. Some shine, and some simply burn out.

She only knew that I was her friend, and right now, my life and death were uncertain.

She used to tell me, "With your talent, you’ll be famous all over the country one day."

But soon, the only fame I might have would be the bruises on my corpse and the flames of the crematorium.

I reached out to wipe her tears, but my hand passed right through her.

Harriet, meanwhile, was calmly fixing her hair.

"It takes 48 hours before a missing person case can be filed. Why are you in such a rush?" She twirled a hairpin between her fingers. "Besides, that’s not just any hairpin. Shane carved it for me ten years ago—it’s a token of love."

The set, which had been buzzing with activity, fell into hushed whispers.

"I heard that when Harriet left for abroad, Director Dean locked himself in his studies for days," someone murmured. "Turns out he was carving that for her."

"Director Dean is really devoted. And then he found a girl who looked just like Harriet to be her stand-in. Joann played the role so well, that it blurred the lines between fiction and reality. She’s pitiful, really."

I stared at the delicate hairpin nestled in Harriet’s bun.

So it was this hairpin.

For Shane, I had spent seven years learning to act. I trained at the best academy, and graduated at the top of my class.

But to him, I was never good enough.

Even after earning the lead role in his films, every scene, every gesture—he would make me redo them hundreds of times.

A film that should have taken three months stretched into three years, all because of my so-called incompetence.

Still, I endured it.

If a hundred takes weren’t enough, I would do a thousand.

As long as, one day, I could make him proud.

The black smudge I once left on his white business card had faded over the years, worn down by my fingers.

And in the end, I finished my first film.