[BL] Dear Hushand, I want divorce Chapter 39: Is he avoiding me?

Ash’s pov ;

~~~Three days later~~~

"Ash is a violent thug! He has no place in this industry!"

"He’s only here because he’s sleeping with the CEO. Disgusting!"

"Awww my poor baby Benji."

"Boycott the show until they fire Ash! We don’t support abusers!"

"How dare he hit my husband? My poor baby deserves justice!"

"Look at him, attacking poor Benji. He should be in jail, not on our screens!"

"He’s nothing but a dirty manwhore. No talent, just sells his body for roles!"

The more comnts I read, the sicker I felt. The fans weren’t just angry; they were vicious.

And I’m one hundred percent sure it was all Benji’s doing. He’s the one who spread the video of hitting him.

"Our company has taken care of the online headlines as much as we can," Daniel inford as I scrolled through the negative comnts. The fans are going crazy.

"But Benji’s fans are demanding your boycott. They want you out of the show," Daniel continued. "The situation has gotten so bad that we are going to increase your protection. There are people outside the company, outside your ho. It’s...intense."

I nodded numbly, barely processing his words.

Because my thoughts were sowhere else. "Is Elijah done with his eting?"

"He...no. He’s still in the eting," Daniel hesitated. Another lie.

I shot him a glare. "It’s his tenth eting today. How many etings does he have in one day?"

Unable to et my gaze, he averted his eyes. "Mr. Stone is...busy lately. If you have any ssage for him I can tell him for you."

Elijah is trying to avoid .

It’s been three days since I last saw him. He stopped coming ho and staying at the company. And whenever we cross paths, he won’t even spare a glance. It’s not like I want to see him 24 hours a day, and I’m glad not to have the annoying bastard irritating all the ti. Yet, it irks why he’s suddenly acting this way.

And it all started that day when I had a ltdown in his office.

"Mr. Blackthorn," Daniel begins, clearing his throat. "The director of the show ntioned to Mr. Stone that they should consider changing the role or maybe taking you off the main lead since the drama is already getting so much hate. But Mr. Stone didn’t agree with him."

I furrow my eyebrows and look up at him. "And why are you telling this?"

He sighs. "Mr. Stone told the director that he only believes his own eyes. You passed the audition, hence the role is yours. And no one could take this role from you."

Elijah defended ? Now, that’s strange. I kept a serious face. "So?"

"So," Daniel continues, "I wanted you to know that he isn’t always so hard on you. He may not show it, but he cares for you."

I laugh sourly, a bitter sound that echoes in the room. "Cares? Him? What makes you think that?

Daniel gives an odd look. "After working with him for years, I understand that much. His way of showing care is different, but it’s there."

I still don’t understand it. But I nod my head anyway. "If you say so."

"Everything will be fine," he let out, offering a reassuring smile. And I could see he was trying to cheer up.

So, for his sake, I smiled back and nodded.

However, nothing got better, even after a month.

The shooting of the show started, and I’m busier than ever, spending most of my ti on set. Elijah barely returns ho. As much as I don’t want to admit it, I miss seeing him. But that isn’t my only problem.

On the set, the atmosphere was extrely toxic. Every ti I walked onto the set, I could feel the weight of the cast and crew’s judgntal stares. They all believed I had stolen the role from another actor. Their glares were sharp enough to cut through my confidence and make each day unbearable.

During filming, I noticed my scenes were being drastically cut. In the past, I would get most of the screen ti as the main lead but now, I feel lucky enough to get a few lines. Even during the live events, I was avoided like the plague. If I appeared on screen, viewers would explode in outrage and threaten to boycott the show. It was as if my presence alone was a curse. So, the crew kicked out of the live streams.

The first episode’s release was the worst. I was the main lead, yet I was practically nonexistent throughout the show. Watching the episode, my face barely appeared, and when it did, it was in inconsequential scenes. I felt a deep sense of embarrassnt and humiliation.

The makeup team also made it clear where I stood in their eyes. They always did my makeup last, often making wait for hours while they pampered the other actors. By the ti it was my turn, their enthusiasm had waned, and their efforts were half-hearted at best. My makeup looked rushed and subpar, adding to my sense of isolation.

During breaks, the cast would gather together, laughing and chatting, but when I tried to approach them, their conversations would abruptly stop. It was as if I carried a contagious disease. I often found myself sitting alone, pretending to be engrossed in my script, but the loneliness gnawed at .

Costu fittings were another source of my distress. The wardrobe team seed to deliberately give ill-fitting or unflattering clothes. While the other actors looked impeccable, my costus were either too tight or too loose, making feel even more out of place.

The director’s attitude was no better. He rarely gave feedback or direction, treating worse than a side character. When he did speak to , it was with a tone of impatience and disdain, as if he couldn’t wait for to leave. I would often find myself trying to hold back my tears when he scolded in front of everyone when it would not even be my fault.

Even the stagehands and crew mbers were cold. They would bump into "accidentally," and my props would mysteriously go missing. My scenes were often shot hurriedly, with minimal attention to detail, making it clear that they just wanted to get rid of .

Each day on set was a struggle, a constant battle to maintain my composure and dignity in the face of relentless hostility. The pressure and mistreatnt were suffocating, and there were tis when I questioned why I was putting myself through this. But deep down, I knew I had to endure it for my career and my own sense of self-worth.

I had begged Elijah for this role so I couldn’t just leave everything behind and run away no matter how much pain and sorrow I was in.

Currently, I was sitting alone at the edge of the set, a takeout container balanced on my lap. The rest of the cast were gathered at a large table, laughing and talking animatedly. Sotis I could feel their eyes on , it would make my face flush in humiliation, but most of the ti I would pretend as if I wasn’t bothered at all.

"You should try eating with them," Jiya, my sportgirl—I guess I could call her my personal assistant or PA, but "sportgirl" fits her sunny, energetic personality better—walked over, her expression sympathetic.

She is always trying to make things easier for , but even she couldn’t change the hostile environnt on set.

I shook my head, forcing a casual smile. It’s not like I haven’t tried. But the atmosphere gets dark and awkward whenever I’m around. And they will still treat as if I wasn’t sitting there and they couldn’t see . So, it’s better this way.

Jiya gave a pitiful look, her eyes filled with concern. "But you look so lonely. It can’t be fun eating by yourself every day."

I shrugged, trying to brush it off. "I’m fine on my own. Besides, I’m used to it."

As I picked at my food, my thoughts drifted back to the past. Even Elijah never ate with .

Whenever I asked him to join for a al, he always had an excuse. Too busy with work, too tired, etings, calls, anything to avoid sitting down to eat with . It wasn’t just on set that I felt alone, it was at ho too. I had even learned to cook, hoping it would encourage him to spend more ti with , but he was never ho on ti.

I rember the disappointnt I felt every ti I prepared a al, only to find his side of the table empty.

So, eating alone beca a routine for , an isolation that seed to follow everywhere. It wasn’t that I hated eating alone, I just have grown accustod to it. It was a constant reminder that no matter how hard I tried, I could never truly reach Elijah.

"How about I join you, then? I an, if you don’t mind." Jiya’s voice pulled out of my reverie.

I looked at her in surprise. Her offer was genuine, and for once, I felt a flicker of warmth amidst the cold indifference from around . I laughed softly and nodded. "Sure, why not? I’d like that."

She smiled and sat down beside , opening her own lunch. We ate in comfortable silence for a while, and I realised that maybe eating alone wasn’t so bad, but having soone to share a al with was undeniably better.