Living with Jennifer Lawrence

[56:] Confrontation

Jen's P.O.V.

Ever since that first "get together" with Chris, we went for coffee one last time and I couldn't believe who showed up.

His ex-wife, Gwyneth Paltrow.

When she first entered the coffee shop, she didn't look very happy to begin with. Her face was a bright red, hot with anger.

It was as if she didn't care that I was sitting there, watching.

"Oh my---" she started, glanced at me and said, "You know what? I don't even care. But what I do care about is you not seeing the kids!"

Chris stood up and told me, "If you will excuse me . . ."

"Oh, so you don't want her to see this? Who is she anyway?" Gwyneth yelled. "We just got divorced recently, and here you are with another woman before the ink on the divorce papers even dried!"

"Gwyneth . . ." Chris said softly. I didn't want to just sit there; I was getting ready to leave.

"You have not one, but two children at home, missing their father. Moses and Apple ask about you all the time. You knew that I didn't want to raise them alone! You need to be the father that---"

Apple? I thought, Although Josh and I are considered "celebrities," we will never give our child(ren) an outrageous name.

Watching two grown people argue in public was pathetic enough.

I grabbed my lukewarm coffee, left some money on the table, and told Chris I was leaving.

"Wait!" he pleaded. Gwyneth continued to curse him out in public. Chris looked small.

"Sorry. I have to go," I said. "Bye, Chris. Oh, and delete my number."

After that I was out of there.

The high heels I wore that day were click-clacking on the sidewalk.

I thought to myself, I don't need that kind of drama in my life. Who needs him?

When I went home that night, I deleted his number from my contacts, and luckily, ever since that day, he never called me back.

Nice to know he got the message.

***

May had started and that meant two things: we're almost done filming, and spring was finally here.

Boston's winters are rough, at least from what I've seen. There has been snowstorms and power outages.

At the moment, I was sitting in my hotel room, alone, staring out the window.

Cars spilled out onto the street. People walking in all directions. Buildings were all around.

I was going to miss this place, but I miss California even more. I miss my kids, my husband, my family.

Right when I was about to call Josh, there was a knock on the door.

I kept wondering who might it be: I didn't order room service recently, and it couldn't be the director. . . maybe someone from the cast? Or . . . ?