The Screenwriter She Lost A Billionaire Romance

Strong enough for this moment.

I didn't push the door open. Didn't storm in screaming for answers.

Even though my eyes stung and my nose burned, I refused to let a single tear fall.

I just stood there, quiet, and took out my phone.

Block.

Delete.

Clear all.

Over three thousand photos together, vanishing one by one before my eyes.

Just like my five years with Violet.

Fading from memory, bit by bit.

Only when there was nothing left on my phone connected to the name "Violet Henson" did I put it away and turn to leave.

I was at the door when Chris's overseas call came through again.

"Pruitt, have you thought about my offer? The screenwriter seat on Riptide has your name on it. But you'd need to leave tonight. We've got an emergency workshop in London tomorrow."

Every time before, I'd said no.

This time, I said yes.

By the time I took my coat from the attendant at the door, I'd already booked a three a.m. red-eye to London.

When I sent Chris the confirmation, he let out an excited shriek.

"Fantastic, Pruitt! You're finally willing to leave that insufferable Best Actress girlfriend of yours. I'll arrange everything you need."

"Including London's finest eligible women."

That got a laugh out of me.

I was about to reply when the phone was snatched from my hand.

Violet's voice came from behind me.

"What's this about London?"

I didn't answer. I just grabbed my phone back.

Violet's attention shifted instantly. She reached up and smoothed my short hair.

"What's the matter? Still upset I didn't propose at the Golden Dragon Awards?"

"There were reasons for that."

She pulled me into the dim hallway, resting her head against my shoulder, trying to explain.

"Seth and I aren't just classmates. When we were kids, he actually saved my—"

Before she could finish, a shrill ringtone cut through.

The name on her screen: Seth Harding.

After she picked up, her tone changed immediately, tense and urgent.

"Okay. Stay where you are. I'm on my way."

She hung up and pressed a hurried kiss to my cheek.

"Tristram, some idiots are harassing Seth. I'll be right back. Wait for me at home and I'll explain everything."

If she'd cared about me even a little, she would have seen the London flight confirmation on my phone screen.

But she didn't.

I watched her figure shrink into the distance and pressed a hand against my chest, where my heart clenched in sharp, stuttering beats.

Home?

Since when did we have a home?

I took out my phone and booked a moving company.

Once my things were out of her place and back in my own apartment, I could leave for London with nothing holding me back.

I was about to lock the screen when a flood of trending headlines about Violet and Seth popped up.

[BREAKING: Possible romance exposed! Best Actress spotted escorting Seth Harding from venue late at night]

[TRENDING: Pair seen sharing a car, intimate gestures, possible kiss]

My thumb froze.

I tapped in.

The video was dimly lit.

Violet was shielding Seth, hurrying him through the crowd. He was pressed against her, fingers clutching the front of her dress. And she was leaning down, her lips about to brush his forehead.

Like a lady knight protecting her prince.

The comments had already exploded.

"This must be the person she thanked onstage, right? They look gorgeous together."

"They haven't even made it official and I'm already obsessed with this ship."

"Where's Tristram Pruitt? Wasn't there a rumor he's the actual boyfriend?"

"Boyfriend? Please. The guy's a nobody. If our girl hadn't starred in his scripts, he'd still be wandering around in obscurity. As if he's anywhere near her league."