Peak At Twenty-Five

Austin was twenty-seven. I was thirty. He despised it when I tried to act sweet, and he hated the faint smile lines near my eyes. "Chloe, acting needy when you're twenty-two is cute. At thirty, it's just pathetic." I merely nodded. Then, I turned around and picked up a gorgeous, fresh-faced twenty-year-old boy toy. What Austin didn’t know was that men peak at twenty-five. After that, it’s all downhill. So yeah, this older woman was moving on to someone younger and fitter. Right after the film premiere, I rushed over to The Velvet Lounge without even catching my breath. Before leaving the house this morning, Austin had reminded me to be there by ten sharp. I had nodded calmly, but my eyes couldn't hide a spark of anticipation. I had already noticed the ring box in his drawer. Ten years together... I had a strong hunch he was going to propose tonight. Too bad traffic was a mess, and I arrived a few minutes late. Just late enough to hear him laughing with his buddies through the half-open door. "Come on, man. Getting blocked on SnapChat is totally normal. Young girls do that all the time." That was Austin’s voicecool, calm, and utterly relaxed. "That's the third time this month!" his friend groaned enviously. "You're the lucky one, Austin. Chloe never pulls that crap on you. She's obedient, mature, and never throws fits. Unlike my girl..." Austin took a sip of his drink and chuckled carelessly. "Well, Chloe is thirty. An old woman doesn't have the energy to throw tantrums anymore." My hand froze on the door handle, hovering awkwardly in midair. "I didn't get it before, but now I know it's always better to date younger," Austin continued. "Women are like cut flowers. You pick an older one, and her prime is over before you know it." The room burst into drunken laughter. "Hey, keep it down. She'll be here any minute." Austin leaned back against the plush velvet sofa, swirling his glass. "Afraid of her? Honestly, I kind of hope she hears me. If Chloe had any dignity left, she’d pack her bags and walk out on her own. It’d save me a whole lot of trouble." Another chorus of obnoxious laughs echoed from the room. I stood in the cold hallway, using every ounce of strength just to keep my knees from buckling. Austin had dropped subtle jokes about my fading youth before. I had always brushed them off as teasing, forgetting that the harshest truths are always delivered under the guise of a joke. He was genuinely disgusted by my age. I had just been too blind to admit it. I didn't step inside that night. Instead, I walked to a quiet corner cafe down the street and stared into space for two solid hours. It wasn't until the party wrapped up and his friend called me that I drove over, pretending I had just arrived. Austin was visibly buzzed. His eyes were unfocused as he reached out for me to support his weight. I smiled, my face an impenetrable mask. "Drunk? Let’s get you home." For the very last time. The drive back was dead silent. A cool night breeze blew through the cracked window, brushing against Austin's face. He held my hand, his brow furrowing slightly. "Bad mood?" I shook my head. "No?" He gave me a knowing, condescending smirk. "You used to talk my ear off. Why so quiet lately? Don't tell me winning that screenwriting award suddenly made you too good to speak to me." How ironic. If he hadn't brought it up, I would have forgotten. There was a time when I had endless things to share with Austin. A funny mole on the street florist's cheek could keep us talking for half an hour. Office gossip about a coworker’s ex-boyfriend could make us laugh all night... Gradually, I stopped sharing those little everyday moments with him. Because he hated it. Every time I excitedly started a story, he would ruthlessly cut me off. “Young girls babbling is adorable, Chloe. Old women talking too much is just noise.” Right. He was sick of my voice. He was sick of my face and my body no longer being twenty. Most of all, he hated that his disdain was screamingly obvious, yet I had stubbornly refused to walk away. My body stiffened in the leather seat, my muscles aching with tension. "Austin, let's break up.""Break up?" Austin squinted his half-drunken eyes, as if he had just heard the funniest joke in the world. "Chloe, what kind of childish tantrum is this? Are you trying to act like a little girl now, threatening to walk away?" There it was again. That exact phrase. In Austin’s eyes, I had no leverage to threaten him with a breakup. His contempt had been written all over his face for years. How on earth did I miss it? I guess the ultimate form of deception is the lie you tell yourself. I let out a quiet, self-mocking laugh. "I'll pack up your things and ship them to your apartment. If you don't want them, let me know and I'll throw them in the trash.” “Whether we announce the split or keep it private is entirely up to you. Whatever reason you give the press, I’ll play along." I told the driver to pull over at the curb. When I stepped out, my steps were firm. I didn't look back. To my surprise, Austin stumbled out of the car and grabbed my arm. Annoyance flashed across his face. "Are you actually being serious right now?" I met his gaze calmly. "What do you think?" In our ten years together, I had never once used the word "breakup" as a weapon. Because I was terrified that once said, it would be real. His expression turned icy, his eyes raking over me from head to toe. "Fine. You want to split? Don't regret it. Even if you get down on your knees and beg me tomorrow, I’m never taking you back." With that, he slammed the car door shut, and the black town car sped off into the night. Just as arrogant and reckless as he had always been. I shrugged, a dull, numbing ache spreading through my chest. It hurt like hell. But it wasn't fatal. I took a deep breath and pressed a hand against my chest. It was going to pass. Everything passes eventually. Back at my penthouse, I tossed all of Austin's belongings into cardboard boxes. He actually didn't leave much behind. In all the years we were together, he rarely spent the night. His excuse was always foolproof: "If the paparazzi snap pictures of me staying over, where does that leave my pride?" Austin’s production company was climbing to the top of the industry, but as an award-winning screenwriter, I had gained fame long before him. He was terrified of being branded as a guy riding a successful woman’s coattails. So, he refused to go public with our relationship. Even when reporters caught us together, he would play dumb and laugh it off: "Chloe is just a dear friend and mentor. Don't read too much into it, guys." I dialed his personal assistant and told him he could pick up the boxes tomorrow morning. The assistant hesitated on the other end. "I'm sorry, Ms. Hayes... I don't think I can make it tomorrow." I paused, softening my tone. "No worries. Whenever it's convenient for you." Silence stretched over the line before the assistant whispered, "Are you really doing this? Honestly, Mr. Miller cares about you a lot.” “Guys talk reckless when they've had a few drinks at the lounge. It was just locker room talk. Please don't take it to heart." So that was it. Austin had probably checked the club's security footage and knew I had arrived early enough to hear everything. "There's nothing more to discuss," I cut him off smoothly. "I'll have a courier deliver the boxes to his office. And please, don't call me to patch things up anymore." I hung up before he could reply. I wanted a clean break from anyone connected to Austin Miller. If a cord needed cutting, it needed to be severed completely. For the next three days, I holed up at home outlining a new screenplay. Just as I finished the character bibles, my best friend called. "Chloe, can you come down to Club SK?" Her voice sounded strained, completely unnatural. "A nightclub?" Knowing her, she despised loud club venues. "Yes, please. You have to come, or else..." The call abruptly disconnected. When I dialed back, it went straight to voicemail. Frowning, I threw a tailored wool coat over my casual clothes and headed out without a speck of makeup on my face. Club SK was Austin’s private playground. So I wasn't the least bit surprised to see him there. Nor was I surprised to see a gorgeous young girl nestled in his arms.The buzzing VIP lounge went dead silent the second I pushed the door open. A few mutual friends looked at me with deep, uncomfortable tension in their eyes. I offered a polite, distant smile and glanced at my friend standing frozen in the corner. "Did you need me for something?" She looked away with guilty eyes. "Not really... just... we haven't seen each other in a while..." "Got it. Well, you've seen me now, so I'm heading out." From start to finish, I didn't spare Austin a single glance. Just as I turned on my heel, a cold, deep voice echoed behind me. "Are you that terrified to look at me? What, regretting your little tantrum already?" Austin honestly believed I was running away out of heartbreak. I chuckled quietly and turned around, finally getting a clear look at the girl in his lap. It was Mia Rivera, the newest starlet his agency had just signed. Barely twenty. Flawless skin, sultry cat eyes, and delicate features. Even compared to me a decade ago, she was stunning. "I know you threw out the word 'breakup' last time just to test me, but those mind games are exhausting," Austin said smoothly. "Let's just put all our cards on the table. We’ve been together for ten years, Chloe. I grew tired of you a long time ago. Even if you hadn't brought it up, I was going to pull the plug anyway." Even though I had already known the truth, hearing him spit it out so casually felt like a sucker punch to the ribs. Austin pressed a tender kiss to the young girl's lips, then shifted his eyes back to me. "I've fallen for someone else. You'll let me go, won't you?" My face remained blank, as if he were discussing a stranger's mundane divorce. "Of course. Be my guest." I had rehearsed this exact nightmare in my head a thousand times over the years. Why wouldn't I be calm? He raised an eyebrow, a triumphant smirk tugging at his lips. "By the way, Mia is new to the industry. Make sure you take care of her when you cross paths on future projects." I nodded, my eyes resting warmly on the young girl. "Mia, what kind of scripts do you usually prefer? I'm currently penning a corporate drama, and there's a supporting lead role that would fit you like a glove." I stepped forward and extended an enthusiastic hand toward Mia. "Why don't we exchange SnapChats? I can send over the pilot draft for you to read. If you don't like it, I have a few other character concepts." Nobody in the room expected this. The friends waiting for a dramatic catfight froze, their smug expressions turning awkward. Austin’s face darkened instantly. The whiskey tumbler before him was nearly empty. He yanked Mia behind him, treating me like a venomous snake about to strike. "Chloe, what dirty trick are you playing? Let me make this clear: Mia is under my protection. Don't you dare try your petty schemes on her." To Austin, my character had always been suspect. Two years ago, he had been caught in a tabloid scandal with a rising pop singer. Not long after, private photos of the girl leaked all over Twitter. He was instantly convinced that I was behind it. “Chloe, do you have any idea how much money we just invested in her? A leak like this is going to cost my company millions!” I had nothing to do with that leak. But back then, he refused to listen to a word I said. He gave me the cold shoulder for over a month and snatched two major development deals right out of my hands as punishment. Looking back, it was both humiliating and utterly pathetic. Well, I was done swallowing blood and playing the martyr. "Austin, where on earth do you get the confidence to think I'd waste my time targeting an innocent girl over a worn-out man like you?" The room fell so quiet you could hear a pin drop. This was the first time in ten years I had ever pointed a finger at Austin Miller's nose in public and defied him. Nobody saw it coming. My friend moved to pull my sleeve, but I brushed her off with a flick of my wrist. "What did you just say?" Austin's voice was dangerously low, a rasp of disbelief scraping his throat. I offered a dazzling smile and took slow, deliberate steps toward him. "I genuinely think Mia fits the aesthetic of the character I'm writing. A collaboration would be a win-win for everyone." "Don't worry, Austin. I'm not as small-minded as you. You keep calling me old, claiming you're sick of looking at my face. But the truth is..." I bent down slightly, hooked a manicured finger under his chin, and lowered my voice just enough so that every single person in the room could hear every word: "The truth is, you're absolute garbage in bed. You barely last ten minutes from start to finish, and faking it for you was exhausting.” “Everyone prefers younger partners. Men peak at twenty-five; after that, it's all downhill. It's high time I found someone young, strong, and actually functional." With that, I glanced around the lounge. Just seconds earlier, a cocktail server had brought in fresh ice and hadn't left yet. The tallest kid among themflawless porcelain skin, sharp jawline, and captivating dark eyesinstantly caught my attention. "Hey, handsome. How much to book you for the night?"