The next morning, sunlight filtered through the curtains, and my phone buzzed persistently on the nightstand. I ignored it, stretching lazily under the covers. The exhaustion from the party had worn off, but I could already feel the headache creeping in.
The phone buzzed again. Sighing, I reached over and grabbed it, blinking at the screen. Four missed calls from Daniel, my editor. My stomach flipped. Four calls already?
I rolled out of bed and shuffled into the kitchen, putting the coffee on. Today was supposed to be a quiet workday, but I knew from the missed calls that it wasn't going to be. This wasn't new. Daniel had been hounding me for weeks—months, really—about the script. The same script we'd been debating for what felt like forever. I'd sent it to him over a year ago, and we'd been stuck on one thing ever since: the ending.
I poured myself a cup of coffee, my eyes drifting to the laptop on the counter. The last chapter still sat open, untouched since the last round of feedback. Daniel hated it. The marketing team hated it. But I wasn't changing it. I'd fought this battle since day one, and I wasn't backing down.
Another knock at the door startled me. I frowned, setting my coffee down as I walked over to check the peephole. Sure enough, there was Daniel, looking as flustered as ever, her phone still clutched tightly in one hand.
I opened the door, leaning against the frame. "Dan. What are you doing here?"
He gave me a sharp look, brushing past me into the house. "We need to talk. I've been trying to reach you."
"I saw your calls," I said, closing the door behind him. "I was going to call you back, but—"
"But you're avoiding the inevitable," he cut in, throwing his arms up. "Emily, this is getting ridiculous. We've been going back and forth for months. You're putting the entire project in jeopardy."
I sighed, rubbing my temples. "I'm not changing the ending, Dan. I've told you this a hundred times."
"And I've told you just as many times that the ending isn't going to work! The marketing team says it won't sell. Peace and family? It's too soft, and it's not what readers want after all the build-up and the war. They want something more dramatic, something that leaves them on edge." He began pacing the living room, his frustration palpable. "This has been going on since you first gave me the script. We're so far behind schedule because of this."
I took a deep breath, trying to keep my own frustration in check. "I know it's delayed, but I'm not compromising the story just to make it more 'edgy.' The ending is the whole point, Dan. The characters find peace after all the chaos. That's the resolution."
Daniel stopped pacing and turned to face me, his expression a mix of exasperation and rising anger. "Emily, I get that you're attached to this ending. I do. But the reality is, this book isn't just about your vision. It has to appeal to readers. It has to sell. And right now, the feedback from everyone. From marketing to the higher-ups, is that this ending is too... soft. It's not going to draw people in."
"I'm not changing it," I said firmly, crossing my arms. "This is the story I've been working on for years, and the ending is personal. I'm not writing some explosive, ambiguous finish just to make sales numbers."
Daniel's eyes narrowed, and his voice dropped, the frustration now tinged with something sharper. "This isn't just about you, Emily. You act like this book is a personal diary, but it's not. This is a business, and right now, you're the one holding everything up. You think you're going to get away with playing the stubborn artist while the rest of us scramble to clean up your mess?"
His words hit me like a slap. I blinked, feeling the sting of her attack, but I stood my ground. "Excuse me? You're acting like I'm not the one writing the damn thing. I'm trying to stay true to the story. My story! The one you signed off on when I started this whole process."
"Oh, give me a break!" Daniel snapped, his voice rising. "You've been stuck on this same damn ending for months, Emily! Everyone has made concessions, but you won't budge. What, are you afraid that if you actually finish something, you'll have to face the fact that maybe you're not as brilliant as you think?"
My chest tightened at his words, anger and hurt bubbling up in equal measure. "That's not what this is about, and you know it. This is about me writing something that matters, not some cheap, sensationalist ending that'll sell for a quick buck."
Daniel scoffed, his arms crossing tightly over his chest. "Matters to who, Emily? To you? Because no one else seems to agree. Not the marketing team, not the publishers, and not the readers who expect more than some sappy, predictable ending. The world isn't as neat as you want to write it, and the sooner you get over that, the better."
I took a step back, the words sinking in like stones. "You don't think I know that? You don't think I've lived that? I'm not trying to write a fairytale, I'm writing about finding peace after chaos. That's what these characters deserve."
Daniel's face hardened, and for a moment, it felt like he was holding something back. Then, finally, he let it spill out. "Maybe the problem is, you're too attached to these characters because they're you. You're stuck in your own head, refusing to let go of this fantasy where everything works out in the end because you're too scared to deal with the reality that sometimes, people don't get that kind of peace."
I flinched, my hands curling into fists. "That's not what this is."
"Isn't it?" Daniel shot back, his eyes sharp. "Look, I've tried to be patient, but you're making this impossible. The publishers are ready to drop the whole thing, and frankly, I don't blame them. You're so caught up in this idea of 'meaningful' that you've forgotten how to be practical. If you don't wake up soon, you're going to lose everything."
I swallowed hard, instinctively stepping back. "I don't know what you want me to say. I haven't changed the ending. I told you I'm not going to."
His jaw clenched, his fists tightening at his sides. "You're ruining everything, Emily. This book it's not just about you. Do you understand that? You're being selfish, stubborn, and it's going to cost us both."
"I'm not being selfish!" I snapped back, the fear mingling with anger. "I write this novel, Daniel. You can't make me change it just because you don't like the ending."
Daniel's face darkened. He took a step closer, his voice dropping to a dangerous whisper. "You think this is about me not liking it? This is about your delusions, Emily. You're living in some fantasy where everything works out neatly. The world doesn't work like that."
I could feel my pulse racing, the panic rising in my throat. "I'm not changing it."
Something in Daniel's expression shifted then. The anger in his eyes sharpened, turning into something more dangerous, more volatile. "You always were difficult. Always thought you were better than everyone else. You think you're special, don't you? Like you can just ignore reality because you're a writer."
I took another step back, my heart pounding harder now. "You need to leave, Daniel. We've had this discussion before."
"I'm not going anywhere," he said, his voice cold and flat. His eyes were locked on me now, and the intensity in them made my blood run cold.
I instinctively reached for the bracelet on my wrist—the emergency button Jake had given me months ago. He insisted I wear it, just in case something happened. I hadn't thought much of it at the time, but now, my fingers brushed against the cool metal as my pulse quickened.
"You think you're in control, don't you?" Daniel's voice dropped to a menacing whisper, his eyes flashing with something dark and dangerous. He took another step toward me, his presence overwhelming the space.
I pressed the button.
The tiny click was barely audible, but I prayed it was enough to alert Jake. I tried to keep my movements subtle, my breath catching in my throat.
But Daniel noticed. His eyes flicked to my wrist, and his expression twisted in rage. "What did you just do?"
Before I could answer, his hand lashed out, grabbing me by the wrist and yanking me forward. Pain shot up my arm, and I gasped, trying to pull away, but his grip was like iron.
"You called him, didn't you?" Daniel snarled. "You think your brother's going to save you?"
"Daniel, stop!" I struggled against him, panic surging through me. "Let go of me!"
His eyes blazed with fury, and without warning, he slammed me against the wall. The impact knocked the breath out of me, and before I could recover, he grabbed one of the vases from the nearby shelf and swung it at me.
The vase shattered against the side of my head, pain exploding in my skull as I crumpled to the floor. I felt the warmth of my blood flowing on the side of my head. Dazed, I tried to crawl away, but Daniel was on me in an instant, his hands wrapping around my throat.
I clawed at his hands, gasping for air as the pressure on my neck tightened. My vision blurred, the room spinning around me as my lungs screamed for oxygen. I tried to scream, but no sound came out.
"Why couldn't you just listen?" Daniel growled, his voice full of venom. "Why did you have to make this so difficult?"
I kicked out weakly, my strength fading as his grip tightened. My fingers scrabbled against the floor, searching for anything to fight back, but everything was slipping away. The darkness was closing in, and I could feel the life being choked out of me.
The last thing I heard was the distant sound of Jake's voice yelling my name.
Then everything went black.
*~*
When I opened my eyes, I was welcomed with the beeping of the EKG ringing in my ears, and the bright white light was so blinding that I closed my eyes again and turned to the side. Which did nothing because I feel more dizzy and my neck feels so stiff as if there's an anvil pressing on it.
"Hey, I'm here," Jake's voice sounded so familiar. Then the switch turned off, and I could open my eyes again.
I tried to call him, but I couldn't find my voice anywhere. Only a terrible hoarse screeching came out instead, and I had no idea how I got this way.
Seeing the panic in my eyes, Jake shushed me. "It's okay. Don't strain your voice. I already called the nurse. Do you want some water?"
I nodded, and he immediately grabbed the water bottle and a straw. "Just drink slowly, 'kay?"
Well, I tried, but it hurts so bad when I swallow, so I stopped after the first sip. Jake quickly took the bottle away as if he knew I couldn't drink that well, and proceeded to stroke my head like I was the most fragile vase in the world, which I can't deny because I feel like I can break so easily. He smiled so softly, but I could tell he's been crying for a long time.
"I'm sorry I didn't get there in time."
I frowned, but then my memory just assaulted my brain, and I remembered my fight with Daniel. I can't even fight him, even with all the self-defense training that Jake taught me. This is all my fault. If I weren't so stubborn, maybe this wouldn't have happened, and we're not in this mess.
"Hey, it's okay." Jake held my hand and leaned closer to kiss my forehead. "I got him, and he's going to pay for everything."
That just makes me cry harder.
"It's not your fault, okay. None of this is." Jake held me tighter and kept whispering that until the doctor and the nurse came.
Jake reluctantly stepped away while they started to pull their tool and check my neck and my breathing.
The doctor leaned close, voice calm but businesslike. "Can you tell me your name? Where are you?"
"E-em-mily. Hos-pi-tal."
"Don't force your voice," the doctor said, holding up his hand. "So far, it's as good as we can expect. We'll keep observing you tonight and do some scans to make sure you have no neurological damage."
"Thank you, doc," Jake said with a simple courtesy smile, and after they both left, he sat beside my bed to hold my hand. "So, I guess I'm free from your snarks for now."
I rolled my eyes and weakly tried to smack him. He just laughed and effortlessly dodged my hand. "From now on, you're going to live with me, and I don't take no for an answer."
I sighed and shoved my index finger to his face. Hopefully, he knew that I had tried to negotiate for at least a week or a month. But he just scoffed and put my hand down again. "Negotiation is off the table."
"Knock-knock,"
We turned towards the door and saw Ethan with Damien and Isabelle. Each one brings a variety of things, from fruits, flowers, soaps, and balloons. They slowly walked inside when Jake let them in. Ethan was the first to speak. "You look better than I imagined. Which is… saying something."
"Wow," I smiled at his attempt to lighten the mood. "That's the nicest thing I've heard all day."
Damien put the fruit basket down a little too firmly, like it had personally offended him. "If I see that editor of yours again, I swear—"
"Easy," Jake cut in, his tone a warning.
But Isabelle had already slipped closer to my side, adjusting the blanket over me like a protective sister. "No one gets to lay a hand on you over a book ending, Emily. No one."
My throat tightened. I wanted to joke, to lighten the air, but the memory of Daniel's grip on my arm still lingered like a bruise that wasn't just skin-deep. So I just nodded and whispered, "I know."
"I'll make sure he stays in prison for a long time," Ethan chipped in.
"You do that. Let me know if you need anything." Damien said, grabbing Ethan's shoulders before coming over to my side and softly massaging my foot over the blanket.
Isabelle started to copy him and massage my right hand, which I don't mind at all. "Do you need anything?"
"I'm good," I replied in a small voice.
"I'll get you some water. I also brought some milk and yogurt," she started to rummage through all the things they brought and pulled out a water bottle, a carton of milk, and half a dozen bottles of yogurt.
"You don't need to do that," Jake stepped in, thankfully, because I don't think I want to swallow anything right now. He helped put everything aside, but Isabelle, being the stubborn woman that she is, patted his hand away and offered me the water.
I reluctantly take a few sips because she will not give up until she gets what she wants. Then, the nurses came from the door to take me to get some scans and told everyone to just wait in the room. I sighed as they started to roll my bed and me out of the room. I can only hope that I can get out of here soon.