I spent the night awake, unable to sleep, thoughts of Henry spending an evening with his ex racing around my mind. He'd tried to reassure me that she was merely a friend in need of some publicity for her next venture. I wasn't convinced.

"I heard you saying that it was at her command that you found someone else," I challenged. He rolled his eyes.

"I didn't mean that I just do everything she tells me to. She gave me an ultimatum, and I chose my career. Her parting words were that I was a selfish idiot, and that I should go find someone else, which I did." he tried to nuzzle me. I pulled away. As I lay there in the darkness, I listened to Henry's breathing, and asked myself if I was being a fool, trusting him with my heart. 

By the time the first glimmers of dawn licked across the sky, I'd decided to book another room, and place some distance between us. Henry had been evasive and dismissive of my concerns about him spending an evening with his ex, assuming I'd understand how the PR people could casually order the stars involved to do stuff like that, not caring about the effect it would have on people's real relationships.

"But your PR haven't asked you to do this," I'd pointed out. "You're just jumping to her tune, nobody else's."

"We're friends, and as a friend, I can help her out. Would you prefer it if I was a selfish, callous bastard who only thought of myself?" he'd countered.

So we'd gone to bed on an argument, both angry, both convinced that the other was unreasonable. Henry had managed to get off to sleep just fine, albeit on the furthest edge of the emperor sized bed, a million miles away from me.

I slipped out of bed at five, pulled on some clothes, and made my way downstairs to the lobby. Henry didn't even stir. 

"Is there anywhere too get a coffee this early?" I asked the concierge at the main desk.

"Certainly Madam. Would you like it served in the breakfast room or the lounge?" he eyed me curiously. 

"The lounge will be fine," I replied. I waited while he phoned my order through to the kitchen. "Can I enquire if you have any rooms available please?"

"I can check for you, although we are pretty full at the moment. How long will you need it for?"

"Till the third of September."

He glanced up at me, before turning back to his screen. "I only have one room available, its on the first floor. It's a basic room though, not a suite."

"Thats fine," I said. I handed over my credit card. I knew Henry would be on set by eight that morning, so it would be easy to move my stuff out of his room, and into my new one without there being a scene. I signed the chit, took my new key, and made my way into the lounge in search of my coffee.

I hid in my new room until I was certain that Henry was out of the way, and busy on set. It took just an hour to move all my clothes and stuff from the spacious penthouse suite, and down to my little bedroom. The bathroom in the penthouse had been bigger than the entire room I was going to be occupying for the next month or so.

As I sat on the bed, I contemplated what I was doing. Would Henry be upset? Or would he be relieved I was out of the way? I wondered whether he'd use the opportunity to get back with his ex. The thought was surprisingly painful. I let out a sob. All the emotions I'd held back came flooding out as I sat on my new bed, one in which I'd sleep alone, without his strong arms wrapped around me. 

I was interrupted by my phone ringing. I glanced at the screen to see it was Bob. "Hi," I croaked.

"Sarah, where on earth are you? And why is His Nibs in such a foul mood? Is there trouble in paradise?"

"I'm in the hotel," I told him. "We had a row..."

"Well, I guessed that much. He's like a bear with a sore head. Mr Ritchie's getting quite fed up with him, his head's not in the game this morning, blowing apart his 'one take Henry' persona. At this rate, the director is gonna send him home, and get on with some of Armie's scenes." 

"I'm not sure what you expect me to do about it," I snapped, "I'm not the one having dinner with my ex tonight."

"I see," said Bob, understanding dawning. "Shall I drive them tonight? Make sure you find out where they both end up and all that?"

"It's beside the point. Even if they sleep apart, he's still happy to be seen with her, and it's not his PR ordering it either." I didn't normally talk much to Bob, but with nobody else around, I had to unload to someone.

"Hmm, that's not good. He'd be pretty upset if the boot was on the other foot," Bob pointed out.

Henry must have been given the afternoon off from filming, as he realised I'd moved out of his room fairly early. The phone calls, texts and emails started around two. I ignored him. As the afternoon wore on, he was getting increasingly angry with me.

*For gods sake Sarah, answer your phone. How am I mean't to fix this if you won't even speak to me?*

Then as the afternoon went on:

*Stop being so juvenile. You won't dictate who my friends are, or who I see.*

Finally becoming:

*Fine, have it your way. Do what you like.*

I sat in that evening, watching the tiny TV in the room. I contemplated heading down to the bar to get rip-roaring drunk, but worried that the two of them would spot me there when they arrived back. With the cast and crew present, my humiliation would be complete. The combination of a night without sleep, and a day of high emotion caught up with me, and I think I passed out on the bed.

I woke early the next morning, and blinked at the sunlight streaming in through the window. I checked my phone, to see if Henry had called. Nothing. Groggily, I sat up, and took a swig of water, before opening my laptop to check my emails. Straightaway, I spotted one from Clive.

"OMG Sarah, what on earth is going on out there? Saw this late last night. Internet has gone crazy over it. Is it your doing? Because if it was, then its backfired spectacularly." 

I clicked on the link, and was faced with picture after picture of Henry and his ex having what looked like an intimate dinner at a nearby bistro. They were both holding aloft goblets of wine, drinking a toast to each other. Henry looked quite happy and relaxed. His ex was grinning like a cheshire cat. I zoomed in to examine the grainy papparazzi pictures more closely. There was one in particular that looked as though they had been aware of the presence of a photographer, and had positioned themselves for the best shot. Henry was gazing at her, with a look I knew well. It was a look I thought he reserved for me. Lust, love and longing, all rolled into one, expressed perfectly on his beautiful face. 

I closed the laptop, pulled the sheet back over me, and sobbed my heart out. I'd been played.