Colin Firth - will he save me?

3 years ago..

From one day to the next, the ground was pulled away under my feet. I remember exactly the day it happened. I was in the middle of filming when suddenly a policewoman appeared on set. I knew right away that something was wrong.

I remember when she approached me and I noticed her sad eyes. I felt that this was not an everyday effort for her. I cannot remember the exact wording. She told me about a terrible accident, that he had no chance and was probably dead immediately. 

My world stops. I can't believe it. I don't want to believe it. My beloved husband. My Paul. Dead? I notice my knees giving way. Someone catches me. I think it's Christoph Waltz that I'm shooting with right now. Matilda? What about our daughter Matilda? Where is she?

I listen to Christoph reassure me. That she is doing well, that she was not sitting in the car with him. All this will be good again. But I know it is not. My husband is dead. He left. Forever. My life will never be the same again. We had so many plans. He was always by my side for 15 years of my life - that should always be the case. We promised ourselves.

3 weeks later. His funeral. I feel like I'm being built in cotton wool. I know the paparazzi are lurking at the door. I don't care. I want to put the day behind me. I want to say goodbye to my husband. I know I have to be there for my daughter. I have to work. Because she expects it from me. Because they all expect it from me. But the worst is yet to come.  

Today, the time has come. The Academy Awards. Just two days after Paul's funeral. I'm wearing a dress that doesn't match my mood. I walk the red carpet. Alone. It doesn't feel right. The press understands that I don't give interviews. That I don't smile in the photos. Some colleagues look at me with pity. No one knows what to say.

I see Michelle Williams approaching me. I don't know her well, but I know she knows the feeling. She pushes me. She says nothing. It's good. I ask her if it will ever stop hurting so much. She smiles at me a little and says, "No, but it gets better with time. Your world will turn around again - take your time". 

Suddenly I get stabbed. I don't understand what just happened. Someone called my name. I won my first Oscar for Best Female Supporting Role. I stalk on stage, probably muttering incomprehensible words. It doesn't feel right. I don't want to be here. I want to go to my family. Now at this moment I decide to end my career. I don't want to be an actress. I am a 38-year-old widow.