Chapter 1 The Passcode He Forgot

At 4:30 a.m., I heard the front door unlock.

I was sitting on the living room rug, scanning the last contract into my laptop when Cameron walked in, smelling faintly of whiskey and expensive cologne.

The moment he saw me, he stopped. "You're still awake?"

I kept my eyes on the screen. "I had some work to finish."

He seemed to be in a good mood.

He crossed the room to the kitchen, grabbed a bottle of water from the fridge, and loosened his tie on the way back. "Today was insane, but at least I finally got the award. The offers should be better from here on out, and maybe the studio will finally stop breathing down my neck."

"Mm."

That was all I gave him.

Cameron paused with the bottle halfway to his mouth and glanced over at me. "Noelle, are you upset?"

Once, any good news from him would have made me happier than it made him.

I would have thrown my arms around him and told him, over and over, that I knew he could do it. I would have taken his hands in mine, tracing every callus, scrape, and scar he had picked up on set, as if each were proof of how hard he had fought to get there.

Tonight, I simply glanced at my phone before turning it face down on the rug. "No."

Cameron always knew how to make me soften.

He walked over, crouched beside me, and gently tucked a loose strand of hair behind my ear. "I just won Best Actor, and you can't even say congratulations?"

Before last night, that small gesture probably would have been enough to break down every wall I had tried to build between us.

Now, I only looked at him and said, "Congratulations."

The word came out flat and dry, nothing like the Noelle he was used to.

Cameron studied me for a few seconds before suddenly reaching down to take my phone.

I instinctively hit the lock button with my thumb, and his expression changed immediately. "You're hiding your phone from me?"

"I'm not."

"Then, unlock it."

I finally looked up at him. "I told you, it's just work."

A faint laugh escaped him, but it held no humor. "Eight years, Noelle. Since when do you have secrets I'm not allowed to see?"

He held the phone out toward me. "Passcode."

I was silent for a moment before answering, "My birthday."

The room seemed to go still.

Cameron's thumb hovered over the screen for a few seconds before he finally entered six digits.

The passcode was wrong.

He tried again, but the second attempt failed too. By the third, he stopped altogether, his thumb frozen above the screen.

Watching him struggle to remember suddenly brought me back to our first year of marriage.

Cameron had broken two ribs while filming a stunt for a low-budget action movie.

When he woke from anesthesia, drenched in sweat and barely able to speak, the first thing he asked me was what day it was.

Still half-drugged, he frowned and asked, "Your birthday's coming up. I didn't forget to order your cake, did I?"

Back then, even while lying in a hospital bed in pain, he had remembered that I loved chestnut cream.

Over time, Cameron became increasingly busy. Eventually, the only reminder of my birthday was an automated coupon from a shopping app.

He finally handed the phone back to me, his voice noticeably softer. "When did you change it?"

"A while ago."

"Why didn't you tell me?"

I took the phone from his hand and almost laughed. "Did you ever ask?"

His expression darkened. He opened his mouth as if to answer, but before he could, his phone rang.

The screen lit up with one name—Rose.

Such an ordinary name, yet somehow it was enough to cut straight through what little dignity I had spent years trying to piece back together.

Cameron glanced at me before turning toward the balcony to answer the call, but Rose was crying so hard I could still hear her from across the room. "Cameron, my hand hurts. The ring is stuck. I can't get it off…"

His brow furrowed immediately. "Don't cry. I'm coming over."

I stayed on the rug where I was, attached the final contract to the email, then hit "Send."

When Cameron looked back at me, he seemed as if he wanted to explain himself. Then again, perhaps he had simply decided there was nothing to explain. "Something happened to Rose."

I gave a small nod. "Then, go."

For some reason, my answer only seemed to irritate him more.

"Noelle, do you really have to be like this?" he asked. "You know I hate it when you get passive-aggressive."

I kept my voice calm. "I told you to go. Which part of that sounded like I was trying to stop you?"

His jaw tightened, but he had no answer.

At the door, Cameron put on his shoes and grabbed the Best Actor trophy he had brought home. He held it, looked at it for a moment, then seemed to reconsider and set it back down.

A few seconds later, the door closed behind him.

Almost immediately, my phone buzzed with a new message.

It was from the airline.

'Your flight has been confirmed.'

I stared at the notification for a moment before switching off my phone.

The apartment fell silent again. Cameron's trophy remained beneath the dim living room light, exactly where he had left it.

For years, I had watched him perform for everyone around him while convincing myself that the man he showed me in private was the real Cameron. But as I looked at that trophy now, I began to wonder if I had been wrong all along.

Maybe I had simply mistaken one performance for another, and this one had gone on far too long.