Chapter 1

"I am afraid of everything. I am afraid of what I saw, of what I did, of who I am. But most of all, I am afraid of leaving this room and never feeling, for the rest of my entire life, what I feel when I’m with you."

- Dirty Dancing

I was sitting by the window in my room, admiring the white snow that had accumulated across the road and around our house. The cold made me shiver and pull a thin sheet over my face, the only thing covering me at that moment. The sound of a snore made me turn my head and gaze at the man sprawled across the mattress. I smiled to myself and let out a long sigh as I turned my eyes back to the snow that was now falling lightly.

I had been married to Bradley Hudson for two years. I loved him. Even knowing that he didn’t love me as much in return. But I understood his demanding job, his stress, the reasons why he didn’t show affection toward me, and how the time we spent together always seemed to end in arguments.

I frowned as my thoughts shifted again. It almost always ended that way. We’d make love, he’d fall asleep, and when he woke up, he would ignore me and lock himself in his office. It had happened so often that it had become a routine—a sad routine for someone like me.

When I first met Bradley, I had no idea he would be so difficult. I had no idea he was so different from what I had imagined. We dated for only three months before getting married. And as much as I loved him, I sometimes wondered if I would make the same decision again.

I was a 24-year-old woman, married and yet so lonely. I still considered myself a girl—a girl without the love she had always dreamed would sweep her off her feet. But I had to settle for this. I had to be happy with the little that Bradley gave me. And when I say "little," I don’t mean money, because he had plenty of that. But if only he were a bit more caring and gave me the kind of love he lavished on jewelry, everything would be so different...

Ah, my dear Bradley Hudson… My thoughts echoed his name sweetly as I placed the blanket over his body.

I knew many people judged me for loving him, for accepting him in such a vague, indifferent way, for not giving me the attention every wife deserved. But even so, despite all his flaws, he was the one I chose. He was the only one I allowed to get close. And I couldn’t regret that. I shouldn’t regret that. One day, he would change—he would ask how I was, how my day had been, or simply hug me and tell me I looked beautiful. One day, he would say those things—or even more. He would tell me he loved me and make me believe it wasn’t just empty words.

The sound of the telephone ringing in the living room startled me and broke my train of thought. I opened my closet and grabbed some random clothes that would keep me warm. I opened the bedroom doors and walked quickly across the living room. As I approached the phone, Mrs. Duart was already about to answer.

"Let me take it, Duart," I said, smiling as I stepped closer.

"Of course, Mrs. Hudson," she replied with a nod before heading back to the kitchen.

I watched our housekeeper return to her work, then picked up the phone and pressed it to my ear.

"Hudson residence," I answered, just as Bradley had trained me to.

"I’d like to speak with Mia Lauren Hudson. Is she available?" a professional-sounding male voice echoed through the phone.

"This is she," I replied, frowning slightly. "Who’s calling?"

"Hello, Mia," the voice suddenly sounded more cheerful. "We’re from NewScene. We’d like to schedule a meeting."

I felt my throat tighten, and a wave of nervousness swept over me. NewScene!!! My God, how long had I been waiting for that call?! Trying to steady my breathing and suppress the excitement bubbling inside me, I took a deep breath.

"Why?" I asked, anxiety eating me alive. But I could almost hear Bradley’s voice in my head, lecturing me that curiosity and emotions had no place in professional matters. "I mean, did I get accepted?"

"Yes. Our producers found the perfect role for you, Mia. Congratulations."

I couldn’t believe it. I smiled and walked quickly across the room, practically skipping.

"Thank you. And the meeting? When will it be?" I couldn’t stop smiling.

"Today, at 5:00 PM," he said.

And in that moment, my excitement waned. It was a Sunday, and Bradley didn’t allow me to leave the house on weekends. He always insisted I stay home and rest. I just couldn’t understand why he was allowed to do as he pleased, and I wasn’t. Well, maybe he’d make an exception this time. This was my dream coming true. He’d be happy for me. He’d support me in this, wouldn’t he? I hoped so.

"Mia? Are you there?" the voice on the phone startled me again.

I needed to stop getting distracted like that. I needed to stop being so jumpy. Bradley was always telling me how unprepared I was.

"Today, at 5:00 PM," I confirmed. "At the NewScene headquarters?"

"That’s right," the man said, his tone enthusiastic. "We’ll see you there."

"Thank you," I said before hanging up.

My God!!! It was almost official. I was going to be an actress. I was going to star in a movie for the whole world to see. My chest swelled with happiness.

I remembered the day I told Bradley that my dream was to become an actress. He had laughed dismissively. But I also knew he didn’t want to give me false hope about something I might not be good at. Bradley was a film director himself, and he was in the middle of a sponsorship deal with another production company…

Then it hit me. What would Bradley think if his wife worked for a rival company?

I hadn’t thought about that.

I sat on the couch and began biting my nails.

But he could avoid this altogether. He could simply help you achieve your dream and get you a role in one of his famous films, my subconscious tried to reason.

No...

Bradley was right not to help me pursue my dream. He was so much older and wiser than me. He understood the industry far better than I ever could. I was just a dreamer…

But this was my dream, and dreams are essential. No, I couldn’t let my fear of Bradley hold me back. He was my husband, not my owner. But too often, he played that role. Too often, he made me feel so small…

I let out a long sigh and silently prayed that Bradley, just this once, would understand me and believe in me. I prayed that his heart would open and that he would love me. Because it was getting harder to pretend. It was getting harder to act like I was happy.

I needed love—real love. And if Bradley couldn’t give it to me, I would find it somewhere else.