Chris Calloway. He was the reason for your catastrophe. He was your boyfriend; a businessman. He was rich, really rich, to the point of having fancy cars everywhere. He also helped you sell your books, when you did.

When you decided to marry Chris, you had stopped writing because of problems with Nathan Van Huysen, where rumors spread that you had "separated" and made Nathan divorce his wife, Melissa, six years ago.

Well, it was a lie. The two of you had never had an affair, although you were in love with him. Chris knew, and he knew you wouldn't admit it.

"Good." Chris began, coming into the room and seeing you lying down with a book.

"I don't care if you really had an affair with Nathan." Chris said, removing his tie with his large hands, wrinkled from so much work and full of rich and expensive rings, including the wedding ring he shared with you.

"If you're going to write this book, you'll have to do it." Chris murmured softly, his expression softening.

He had proposed that you write one more book with Nathan because you still had one last contract to make one last book. Chris didn't care if you ended up together, he cared about the profit from the book. Even if Chris had said something like that, he wasn't an exceptionally bad husband. He was kind, bought you whatever you wanted, and showered you with affection most of the time.