Chapter 2

Before I could leave the auditorium, Chloe Davis, Isabella's ever-loyal best friend, cornered me near the exit.

"Ethan, Isabella is so happy to see you," Chloe said, her eyes wide and earnest.

"She's missed you terribly."

I gave a polite, noncommittal nod.

"You know," Chloe leaned in, her voice dropping conspiratorially, "she fought for you back then, Ethan. Really fought."

Fought for me? My mind replayed Isabella, arm-in-arm with Julian at industry parties, while I was packing my bags for Europe, my reputation in tatters.

"She argued with the Dean," Chloe pressed on, "just to make sure you could even graduate after... well, after everything."

I remembered graduating, barely. The whispers, the cold shoulders. If Isabella fought for me, she did it from Julian's side of the battlefield.

"She's waited for you, Ethan. All these years."

Waited? I kept my face neutral. The idea was absurd.

"That's... interesting, Chloe," I said, trying to edge past her.

My thoughts were a whirl of old images: Isabella looking at Julian with an admiration she once reserved for me, her laughter at his jokes, her hand in his. The slow, painful realization that I was losing her, then the swift, brutal betrayal.

The festival attendees were starting to drift out, some glancing our way. I could hear the whispers already, the gossip starting to brew.

"Isn't that Ethan Miller? The one who had that plagiarism scandal?"

"Heard he ran off to Europe."

"And she's Isabella Hayes, old money Hollywood. They were a thing, weren't they?"

I ignored them. I had a wife, Olivia, and a daughter, Lily, waiting for me. A life Isabella knew nothing about.

Chloe was still talking, "She truly believes you two are meant to be. 'Desert Bloom' was your soul-project together."

I finally looked at her. "Chloe, 'Desert Bloom' was my script. Mine alone. And Isabella knows that."

Her face fell slightly, but the delusion was strong in that camp.

"She just wants to talk, Ethan. To clear the air."

"There's nothing to clear," I said, my voice firm but quiet. "The air is perfectly clear on my end."

I needed to get away from this, from them. This whole festival was a mistake.