When America's Sweetheart Chose Her Agent Over Her Husband novel Chapter 6

My apartment never felt better.

A hot shower, bare walls—yet strangely full.

Like shedding chains I'd worn for years.

Finally living for myself.

Next day, I took PTO and met my childhood friend Daniel at a diner.

Ashley had isolated me from friends—said they "stole our time." Sitting there with patty melts and milkshakes, I felt human again.

We reminisced like no years had passed.

Though Daniel was shocked by my sudden divorce:

"Seriously dumping Ashley? 'Bout damn time—she treated you like crap."

Having grown up together in Beverly Hills, Daniel knew my whole story.

That's why he couldn't grasp Ashley's transformation.

"People change," I shrugged.

"I just believed love conquered all. Time to move on."

"Her agency's crash? That was me."

Daniel grinned. "Payback's a bitch."

As head of Zenith Entertainment (Hollywood's third-largest studio), Daniel could destroy careers before breakfast.

"Couldn't watch that gold-digger and her boytoy parade around," he fumed.

"Without you, she'd still be doing student films!"

"That breakout role? You nearly died securing it!"

True.

Three days of vodka shots with Russian investors—that's what bought Ashley her Oscar.

Back when we were happy.

Ashley's calls kept buzzing during lunch. I declined each one.

My new tech startup flourished with old connections.

That anxious look? Hadn't seen it since her struggling actress days.

Back when she actually cared about my feelings.

I shook free and headed to my Tesla.

Austin freaked: "Ashley! My lawsuit—"

"Shut it!" she snapped.

The entitled brat finally met resistance: "Oh, now I'm the outsider?"

"Fine! When I go down, you're coming too!"

I leaned against my car, enjoying the show.

Then my phone buzzed—a text from Lauren:

Left homemade bone broth in your office.

Doctor said it helps with gastric healing.

Don't forget!