After the Ice Melts

It was eight years before I saw my ex-boyfriend, Aidan Sterling, again.

The punk with the bleached hair had dyed it black, had his tattoos removed, and become a refined, aloof CEO.

As for me, that innocent little flower? I was still a flower, just one that money had been wasted on.

"Miss Quinn, I'm very sorry. The cancer has metastasized too extensively. Further treatment would only cause you more pain."

'The doctor was kind, phrasing "go home and wait to die" so delicately.'

Clutching my own death sentence, I was passing the obstetrics and gynecology department when I ran smack into Aidan Sterling.

I hadn't seen him in eight years. He was taller, more handsome, and more...

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

Right. And more sharp-tongued.

1

After tossing that cold remark at me, Aidan Sterling's expression changed in a flash.

He turned to the obviously pregnant woman beside him, his voice gentle as he fussed over her.

'Even though it wasn't my fault, she was pregnant. I should probably try to rack up some good karma before I die.'

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

The woman gave me a reassuring smile and shook her head.

Then she looked up at Aidan Sterling, frowning as she gave him a light pat. "She didn't do it on purpose. Why do you have to be so harsh?"

I raised my eyebrows, surprised, and nodded emphatically in agreement.

'He'd become a bigshot CEO, but his personality was much worse than it was eight years ago.'

"I'm sorry, miss. He just gets frazzled when he's worried; he didn't mean to be rude to you."

The woman was heavily pregnant, radiating a gentle glow.

With her exceptional grace, she and Aidan Sterling looked perfect together.

'She didn't seem to know about my past with Aidan Sterling, and he apparently wanted to pretend he didn't know me either.'

Suddenly, I had no desire to stay a moment longer.

"It's no problem. As long as you're all right, that's what matters. I'll get going now."

With that, I turned to leave, brushing past Aidan Sterling.

The air, thick with the smell of disinfectant, still carried a faint trace of Aidan Sterling's cedarwood scent.

By the time I got home, my body felt like it had reached its limit.

As I lay down on my bed, my stomach began to cramp violently.

Cold sweat beaded on my forehead, and tears welled in my eyes, secretly joining the droplets.

Until my phone rang, sounding like a death summons.

"Myla, great news! The investors love the new project. We're just waiting on you to finish the script so we can submit it for approval."

The caller was Chloe Croft, a television producer. We'd met on a project and became good friends.

I glanced at my reflection in the full-length mirror by the wall. My face was pale and streaked with tears, my hair plastered messily against my cheeks.

"Chloe, I still haven't figured out the ending for this script. Can we put it on hold for a..."

"Oh, Myla, we can't! These investors are a huge deal. If we flake on them, we can kiss our careers in this industry goodbye."

The words of protest died in my throat.

'I could afford not to care about the consequences, but Chloe Croft still had a long future ahead of her.'

"All right, I get it. I'll finish the script as soon as possible."

After hanging up, I took out the painkillers the doctor had prescribed.

A one-month supply. Thirty pills in total.

'The doctor meant for me to take one a day, but since I was going to die anyway, I didn't want to endure any more pain.'

I shook out three pills and swallowed them all at once.

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

The sky turned from dark to light, and from light back to dark again.

The End

After typing those two words, I stretched and let out a long, weary breath.

This story had been in my back pocket for a long time, but I'd only managed to get a first draft down this year.

I looked at the words on the screen and couldn't help but smile bitterly.

"Perhaps this is all fate."

Moments after I sent the script to Chloe Croft, my phone started buzzing wildly.

"Myla, I absolutely love this script! I honestly think it's the best thing you've ever written!"

The investors hadn't even responded yet, but she was already eager to pop the champagne.

By the time I found myself sitting in a booth, I still couldn't figure out how I'd been muddle-headed enough to agree to come out with her.

I'd been in such a rush to finish writing that I'd only managed to scarf down a few buns.

Now, with a bit of alcohol on top of that, my stomach was starting to feel queasy.

'Taking painkillers was out of the question.' I gritted my teeth against the pain and stood up, glass in hand, intending to find a server and ask for some hot water.

The moment I turned, I crashed into a warm, solid chest.

The moment the scent of cedarwood hit me, my mind went completely blank.