"Done?" He laughs, but there's no humor in it. "You don't get to decide we're done by sending me a fucking gossip link and disappearing."
"You made the decision real easy when you were sucking faces with Molly. Multiple times."
"Jesus Christ." He runs a hand through his hair, the polished facade cracking. "It wasn't like that. You're being dramatic?—"
“Dramatic? You got caught.”
Now I’m angry.
"There are photos of you kissing her," I continue. "Of you getting into her car. Of you walking into a hotel together. What part of that is dramatic? The kissing? The hotel? Or the part where the entire internet saw it before I did?"
"It was nothing! It meant nothing! She's an actress looking for representation, we were discussing?—"
"Oh, is that what we're calling it now? Discussing representation? In her mouth? At a hotel?"
I tilt my head.
"Interesting business model. It’s a very hands-on approach."
“Nora, be serious.’
"Stop." I hold up a hand. "Just stop fucking lying for once in your life. I'm done with the lies and all the bullshit.”
His expression shifts. The charm drops away completely, replaced by something uglier. Something I've caught glimpses of before but never let myself acknowledge.
"You're done?" His voice is low now. Dangerous. "You don't get to be done, Nora. Do you have any idea what I've done for you? The doors I've opened? The connections I've made? Your career would be nothing without me."
“You sound like a broken record, Wes. My career was fine before you."
"Your career was mediocre before me," he snaps. "You were writing small-time romance novels that nobody gave a shit about. I'm the one who got you the film deal. I'm the one who introduced you to the right people. I made you relevant."
The words hit like a slap.
"Wow. So inspiring. You should write self-help books."
My voice is flat. Cutting.
"'How to Gaslight Your Fiancée in Ten Easy Steps.' Chapter one: Take credit for her entire career while fucking someone else."
He throws his hands in the air and huffs out a laugh. “You’re unbelievable.”
"Get off this property."
"We're not done talking."
"Yes, we are. Leave. Now."
He takes a step closer, and I see it—the shift from controlled anger to something more volatile.
"You think you can just walk away? After everything? You think you can embarrass me like this—make me look like a fool in front of the entire industry—and there won't be consequences?"
"You embarrassed yourself. I just refused to cover for you anymore."
"Is that what this is?" His voice drops to something venomous. "You found out about Molly and suddenly you're playing the victim? Running back to your pathetic small-town ex? Trying to make me jealous?"
"This has nothing to do with?—"
"Bullshit." He's closer now, invading my space. "You've been fucking him this whole time, haven't you? That's what this is really about."
