Chapter 2After the Ice Melts

The next second, I was shoved away roughly.

Jack was frowning, disgustedly brushing at the spot on his chest where I’d touched him.

"Sorry, I didn't mean to," I apologized sincerely.

"That's twice in two days you've run into me. If it wasn't intentional, you should probably get your brain checked."

Maybe it was the searing pain in my stomach, or maybe it was just the sheer exhaustion of it all. My nerves were frayed to their breaking point, too fragile to withstand his barbed words.

He let out a cold, sharp laugh, his eyes raking over me. "What's with the wounded act? I state a simple fact and now you're going to cry?"

He was right. I hadn't cried when he knelt in the snow eight years ago, begging me not to leave him. Now, looking at this proud, cold man in his tailored suit, I couldn't find a single trace of the boy I once loved.

I knew he remembered me. The loathing and hatred in his eyes were too clear to ignore. He obviously wanted nothing more to do with me. I could at least grant him that final wish. Another good deed before the end.

"You're right. I'm sorry. I'll make sure to stay out of your way from now on."

I walked around him and left.

When I returned with my hot water, Chloe was back at the table. "Where'd you go? You disappeared the second I got back. You scared me."

"Just went to get some water." Bumping into Jack was a fluke, a cruel twist of fate not worth mentioning.

I thought submitting the script was the end of it. But the next day, Chloe called me in a panic.

"It's bad, Mia! The investors rejected it. You need to get to the office, now!"

When I arrived, Chloe and an associate from the investment firm were waiting in the conference room. I was ushered inside. Chloe shot a nervous look at the man sitting with his back to us in a large executive chair.

"Excuse me," I began, addressing the man directly, assuming he was the big boss Chloe had mentioned. "Could you tell me which part of the script you weren't satisfied with?"

There was a long pause. Then, a familiar voice cut through the silence.

"The ending."

The chair swiveled around, revealing Jack's cold, impassive face. So he was the big-shot investor. He met my gaze, not a flicker of surprise in his eyes.

Before I could speak, Chloe jumped in to defend me. "Mr. Godley, audiences today prefer happy endings. It’s what the market demands."

Jack nodded slowly. Chloe looked relieved for a second, but then he spoke again, his voice dangerously quiet.

"I don't like this ending. Change it."

The audacity of a corporate tyrant. Utterly unreasonable.

"If you want a different ending, you should hire a different writer. I can't write it." I wasn't above compromising for money, but this story, this one story, felt too personal to change.

Jack looked at me, a thin, cruel smile playing on his lips. "Fine. Then you can pay the breach of contract fee."

The color drained from Chloe's face. She scribbled a number on a piece of paper and slid it towards me.

[$8,000,000]

They could sell me, sell the whole damn production company, and we still wouldn't have eight million dollars.

I sighed, a bitter laugh escaping me. Fine. I was dying anyway. What did artistic integrity matter now?

"Okay. I'll change it."

The meeting ended. The capitalists were satisfied, and I was the poor workhorse left to do their bidding. But it seemed fate wasn't done kicking me while I was down.

Jack's assistant, Mark, caught up to me. "Ms. Collins, to facilitate communication about the script, Mr. Godley has requested you work from our offices for the time being."

I frowned, looking past him to where Jack stood, coolly dismissing someone else. He hated me, right? So why would he want me under his nose all day? It made no sense. My empty stomach protested loudly. I mumbled my assent and hurried away.

In the breakroom, I had just pulled out my bottle of pills when the door swung open.

"What are you doing?"

Jack's voice startled me, and the bottle slipped from my hand, scattering the precious pills across the floor.