Chapter 1After the Ice Melts

It had been eight years since I last saw my ex-boyfriend, Jack Godley.

The boy with the bleached-blond hair had dyed it black, lasered off his tattoos, and transformed into a refined, aloof tycoon.

As for me, the delicate flower he once knew? I was still a flower, just one that was rapidly wilting away.

"Miss Collins, I'm very sorry, but the cancer has metastasized too far. Any further treatment would only cause you more pain."

The doctor was kind, phrasing "just go home and wait to die" as gently as he could.

I walked out clutching my own death sentence. Passing by the obstetrics department, I slammed right into him.

Eight years. He was taller, more handsome, more…

"If you're not going to use your eyes, donate them to someone who will."

Right. More of an asshole.

* * *

After spitting that cold remark at me, Jack’s face transformed in an instant.

He turned to the woman beside him, her baby bump prominent, his voice softening with concern.

It was an accident, but she was pregnant, and I figured I could use some good karma before I kicked the bucket.

"I'm so sorry, I wasn't looking where I was going. Are you okay?"

The woman offered me a reassuring smile and shook her head. Then she turned to Jack, her brow furrowed as she gently tapped his arm. "She didn't mean it. Why do you have to be so harsh?"

My eyebrows shot up. I nodded emphatically in agreement. Being a CEO had certainly done a number on the sweet boy I once knew.

"I'm sorry," the woman said to me, her presence radiating a gentle warmth that only an expectant mother possesses. She and Jack, with her refined grace and his commanding presence, looked like they were made for each other. "He gets overprotective. He didn't mean to offend you."

She didn't seem to know who I was, and Jack was clearly content to pretend he didn't either. Suddenly, the sterile hospital air felt suffocating.

"It's fine, really. As long as you're alright. I should go."

I sidestepped them, my shoulder brushing against Jack’s as I passed. In the antiseptic air, I caught the faintest trace of his signature cedarwood scent.

Back home, my body felt like it had hit its limit. The moment I collapsed onto my bed, a vicious cramp seized my stomach. Cold sweat beaded on my forehead, mingling with the silent tears escaping the corners of my eyes.

My phone rang, a shrill, insistent sound.

"Mia, great news! The investors love the new project. We just need you to finish the script so we can submit it for approval."

It was Chloe, a TV producer I'd befriended on a previous project.

I glanced at my reflection in the full-length mirror. A pale, tear-streaked face stared back, my hair plastered messily to my cheeks.

"Chloe, I haven't figured out the ending yet. Can we maybe put it on hold for a—"

"No way, Mia, we can't! This investor is a huge deal. If we bail on them, we can kiss our careers in this town goodbye."

The words of retreat died in my throat. I didn't have a future to worry about, but Chloe did.

"Okay," I sighed. "I get it. I'll finish it as soon as I can."

After hanging up, I pulled out the painkillers the doctor had prescribed. One bottle, 30 pills for a month. One a day, he’d said. But since I was dying anyway, I saw no point in rationing my comfort. I shook out three and swallowed them dry.

I sat down at my laptop, opened the document, and began to write the final chapter of my last story.

The sky bled from black to blue, then from blue back to black.

[THE END]

After typing the final words, I stretched, letting out a long, slow breath. The idea for this story had been in my head for years, but it wasn't until this year that I finally put it to paper. I stared at the screen, a bitter smile on my lips.

"Maybe everything is just fated to be."

Moments after I emailed the script to Chloe, my phone buzzed wildly.

"Mia, I absolutely love it! This is the best thing you've ever written!"

She was ready to pop the champagne before the investors had even replied. And somehow, in a daze, I agreed to meet her for a celebratory drink.

I’d barely eaten anything but a few bites of a stale croissant while racing to finish the script. Now, with alcohol in my system, my stomach was churning unpleasantly. I couldn't take another painkiller. Gritting my teeth against the throbbing pain, I got up, intending to ask the bartender for a glass of hot water.

I turned and walked straight into a warm, solid chest.

The scent of cedar filled my senses, and for a second, my mind went completely blank.