Divorcing Hollywood’s Genius: I Am My Own Muse Chapter 07
On the day Ronan came to find me, Los Angeles was hit by a torrential downpour.
I had just walked back into the hotel lobby after wrapping up an interview when I spotted him standing there, completely drenched from head to toe.
“Scarlett, we need to talk.”
I gestured for Mavis to head upstairs first, then walked with him over to the lobby cafe.
“Scarlett, I watched The Last Vessel.”
“Your performance… it was brilliant. Better than any actress I’ve ever directed.”
I couldn’t help but let out a soft laugh. “Ronan, don’t you find it ironic saying that to me now?”
“You told everyone that Scarlett couldn’t act, that Scarlett was just an empty ornament. Now you turn around and tell me I’m brilliant.”
“So tell me—were you wrong, or was I wrong?”
He pressed his lips together, his face looking incredibly pale.
I slowly shook my head.
“Actually, it’s neither. The truth is simply that you never gave me a single chance.”
“Five years of marriage, four movies directed by you, four different leading ladies—and not once did you consider me.”
“You told me I wasn’t right for it, that my image didn’t fit. But did you ever try? Did you let me audition even once?”
Ronan’s face drained of color. “Scarlett, back then I…”
I cut him off mid-sentence.
“You just never truly believed in me.”
I cast my eyes downward, my mind suddenly drifting back to when I was seventeen.
The hallways of Westbridge Film Academy were weathered, and the sunlight outside the windows was dazzlingly bright. A young Ronan had stood before me holding a stack of scripts, his eyes alight with pure ambition and passion.
Back then, the way he looked at me suggested I was the sole answer to his cinematic vision.
“Ronan Vale, shooting The Girl Named Suri with you at seventeen made me believe we would be the most synchronized partners for life. If I had known we would end up like this, I would rather have never met you at all.”
“But thank you anyway, for bringing The Girl Named Suri into existence.”
A trace of panic flitted across his expression, and he reached across the table to grasp my hand, but I pulled away.
“Scarlett, I know I messed up. I see it now—I was wrong all along. Can you please give me one more chance?”
“The leading role in my next film is yours. I’ll tailor it specifically for you—whatever you want to play, we’ll shoot it.”
Staring at his visibly frantic state, I let out a soft sigh.
“Ronan, you still don’t get it.”
“I have never needed handouts or charity from you. I am fully capable of fighting for my own opportunities and creating my own path. I don’t need you anymore.”
He stared at me blankly, looking as though he had just taken a physical blow to the face.
Without another glance, I rose from my seat.
“I’ll have my lawyer draw up the divorce papers and send them over. Don’t worry, I won’t touch a single dime of your money.”
As I rounded the corner out of sight, I caught his reflection through the glass pane, sitting there looking utterly broken.
My heart had once beaten frantically for his fiery brilliance.
Now he possessed everything,
Yet he was no longer the boy from all those years ago.
A month later, Ronan still hadn’t signed the divorce agreement.
Instead, he went public with our relationship during a televised interview.
“Scarlett and I are married.”
Before the cameras, he looked visibly exhausted, with dark hollows under his eyes.
“We’ve been married for five years, and it was my stubbornness that kept it hidden.”
“It was entirely my fault. I apologize for everything I said before—she is an extraordinary actress.”
A reporter pressed further, “Does this mean you are currently divorced?”
Ronan cast his eyes down. “I’m doing everything I can to win her back.”
The moment the interview aired, public sentiment took a massive turn.
[Wait, what??? Excuse me, am I hallucinating in broad daylight???]
[You’re telling me she’s your wife??? You spoke about her with so much venom, I literally thought she was your mortal enemy.]
[So was that whole thing with Bianca real or fake? Ronan, you treat your own wife with absolute cruelty, yet you seem awfully accommodating with outsiders.]
[I used to think his sharp tongue was just him keeping it real, but now it’s clear he’s just a classless toxic man.]
[My heart breaks for Scarlett—publicly humiliated by her own husband for five years, without him ever clearing her name while she endured endless cyberbullying.]
[Scarlett, run! That man is absolutely not worth it!]
Bianca found herself caught in the crosshairs as well. Her agency scrambled to issue an emergency statement clarifying that the relationship was strictly professional and had never crossed any lines.
But the public flatly refused to buy it.
When Mavis slid her phone over to me, I was relaxing with a face mask, skimming through a fresh script. She let out a massive sigh.
“Does he honestly think going public is going to make you change your mind?”
I breathed a quiet sigh, pulling up my Instagram to post an official statement.
[I want to apologize to everyone for the sudden news. Ronan and I were indeed married over the past five years, but that chapter has closed. Thank you all for your warmth and support. Moving forward, my sole focus will be on my craft and delivering the best performances I can. I wish Mr. Vale all the best in his future endeavors.]
Within ten minutes of hitting post, Ronan’s call cut through my phone line.
“Scarlett, why… didn’t I already admit my mistakes? Why won’t you give me another chance?”
Holding the phone, I fell into a long silence.
“Ronan, did you even bother asking me before you aired out our marriage?”
“You didn’t. You’re doing exactly what you’ve always done—acting entirely on your own whims without ever considering my position.”
“Is it really me you’re trying to save, or just your own bruised ego? Do you actually love me? Or are you simply unable to handle the fact that the person you always looked down upon is now far more successful than you?”
On the other end of the line, silence stretched out heavily.
“Let’s just part ways gracefully. Just like The Girl Named Suri, let it remain exactly where it belongs.”