Chapter 40
Pain doesn’t aim. It just strikes whatever’s closest.
Emma sat curled on the couch by the window, her laptop glowing faintly.
The movie had been running for nearly an hour, but she’d barely registered the premise.
Her reflection hovered on the glass beside her, pale and ghostlike.
Beyond it, the city lights blurred into glitter—beautiful, distant, unreachable.
The door clicked open. Leah stepped in, hair slightly windswept but still immaculate in her red suit. Ever the professional. She braced against the wall to pull off her stilettos.
“Hi,” Emma said tentatively.
Leah stepped into the room, tossing her heels onto an armchair. “Hi. Still up then?”
It was more of a statement than a question, so Emma just shrugged. She’d considered going to bed. Pictured herself staring at the ceiling. Then stayed by the window, anyway. Pressed this close to the glass, she could at least pretend she belonged to the world outside.
Leah sighed. “Well, since you’re up, I’ve got some news. And you’re not going to like it.”
Emma sat up straighter, tensing immediately.
Leah sank onto the bed. “Max called me. Darren has officially turned down playing Lucen.”
The words detonated in the room. Emma’s breath hitched. “Right,” she mumbled. “Of course.”
“I’m sorry.”
Emma had barely even thought about the casting since the fight. Hadn’t expected him to want the role, given everything.
But it was still the final no on a hope that had lived in her body for years. One that had started as the faintest flicker when the idea for Lucen first took shape. When she pictured him with Darren Cole’s face. Fantasizing that maybe one day . . .
A childish, hopeless dream. But one that had stayed with her through every plot hole, every endless edit, every moment she’d felt like the world’s biggest fool for thinking she could write something that wasn’t a steaming pile of crap.
Lucen had carried her through that. He had taken life from the energy she poured into him, just like he did with Catlyn. Had refused to let her stop, called her back to the page, stirred in her mind until the words flowed.
There wouldn’t have been a Bonds of Light without Lucen. Would there have been a Lucen without Darren Cole?
She wasn’t sure.
And look at her now. That impossible dream—lived and shattered, by her own hand. Far worse than never having had it at all.
“I did base Lucen on him,” Emma said. Her voice came out low in the dusky room.
“I know,” Leah said.
The words split something open. Shame and regret surged up in her, a dark sun burning her from the inside out.
“Well,” Emma said, throat strained and thick. “This has been fun. Hope you signed Kay Bellamy tonight. Seems like you’ll need a new star writer, anyway.”
Leah tilted her head. “Emma—”
“Well, did you?”
“As a matter of fact, I did,” Leah said slowly.
There was a note of warning in her voice, which Emma ignored. She laughed, a harsh, bitter sound. “Congratulations. That was your true goal this weekend, wasn’t it?”
Leah’s brows knitted. “Excuse me?”
She couldn’t stop it. Acid flooded her veins, desperate for somewhere to go. “Isn’t that what red meant in your neat little color coding? Opportunities to sneak off and recruit your next big client?”
“Are you kidding me?” Leah stood from the bed, voice sharpening.
“Do you have any idea how much work I’ve put into arranging this weekend for you?
The calls, the favors, the strings I’ve pulled?
And this is how you thank me? First, you set the whole thing on fire, and then you accuse me of not caring? ”
Emma shook her head, looking away. Tears burned now, finally spilling over. It was too much to contain. And the worst part was that Leah was right. This whole mess was of her own doing.
“In case you really want to know,” Leah continued, each word landing like a blow.
“Red was for moments I thought I might get to introduce you to Darren this weekend. Because I knew you liked him. I knew you based Lucen on him. I thought it would be a nice thing for you.” Her voice cracked with anger. “Clearly, that backfired.”
“You encouraged me,” Emma shot back. “You literally shoved me at him.”
“Yeah, because I thought you were grown-up enough to handle it. In case you forgot, I also told you to be careful. Not to freaking hard launch within thirty-six hours of meeting him.”
“That photo was never meant to happen!” Emma snapped, frustration flaring.
“Maybe not. Hell if I know. What I do know is that everything you’ve done since has been like watching a train wreck. You think I enjoy seeing that? Seeing you destroy everything we’ve built, and yourself too in the process?”
Emma let out a jagged, involuntary sound, half sob, half snort. “Well, if I’m so toxic, maybe you should just drop me as a client.”
Leah’s voice roared with fury. “Get over yourself! You’ve made a goddamn mess, Emma. But don’t you dare just lie down and wallow in self-loathing. Fix it.”
Another bitter laugh tore out of her. “Yeah. Tried that. It’s already too late. With Darren at least.” She wiped her cheeks with the back of her hand. “Guess we’ll see just how much my lovely new reputation will damage my career. Good thing I didn’t quit my day job.”
“Emma, for god’s sake—”
But Emma couldn’t listen. She cut through the room, unable to bear the exasperation in Leah’s voice or the weight of her own accusations still hanging between them.
“I’m going out.”
“Out where?”
“Anywhere. I need some air.”
She shoved past, snatched a cap on her way, and stormed out.
The slam of the door shook the walls behind her.