"You cannot run away from this," Gavin said. He looked at ease in the small, shabby-looking old restaurant.
"You see Celia, every action comes with a consequence. That night you were saved, but that came with a price. Now, you have to pay for it. It's nothing like it sounds. You don't have to sacrifice anything, as a matter of fact, working with us will ensure you have a good future. You have read the contract well, I believe. It is not just a paper. We will fulfill every clause mentioned in that contract. You, on the other hand, have to write. That's it, just write a love story."
"What if I don't? What if I apply to terminate the contract?"
"Well, I believe you have read the terms of cancellation and terminations as well. If you wish to terminate the contract, you will have to pay the compensation. Here, read this, this may help you get a better idea." He extended a file with a two-page document.
Cece picked up the document suspiciously. It was an official document for termination of a contract, with her name mentioned as the first party. The second party was Gavin Atwood. It was a standard document. She skimmed through the document fast, until her eyes stumbled into the compensation section.
"Are you fucking kidding me?" Cece's yell made some people turn their heads. Embarrassed by her outburst, she lowered her eyes. "Look, you know pretty well I cannot pay this amount."
"I know," Gavin softened but held his upright stance. "That was the first reason why I agreed to pay you such a huge amount. You may go and ask around, no one gets paid to this extent in the industry you are working in. Trust me, Cece, it is for your own good."
"Selling my soul to the villain, how does that sound as the name of my story, Mr. Atwood?" Cece asked, arching her brow.
"It sounds quite fitting. It will grab the attention of the readers and—" Gavin stopped suddenly seeing her face and ended his sentence, "You're being sarcastic."
"Bravo!"
Leaving her shocked for the umpteenth time in the last couple of days, Gavin smiled. Cece frowned in response.
"Have you noticed that you have stopped being scared of me?"
Cece continued frowning. It was not something she thought of earlier. Now she thought of it, Gavin was not completely wrong. She still had some reservations about him, but her fear had dissipated. She dived into herself, her anger was descending too. She bit her lower lip.
"Let me guess. You had a dream. A beautiful dream where you had the life you wanted, and that has changed you."
"What the hell are you talking about?"
Gavin paid the bill for both of them and tilted his head. For the first time in the past three days he looked like a young man. Natural, normal, someone resembling the dream Cece had. She could have a life with this man, she thought. Instantly she shook off the thought and looked straight at him. There was a glint in his eyes.
"Was I a good kisser, Cece?"
She repeated, "What the hell are you talking about?" The conviction in her tone was waning slowly.
"You're not the only one who had the dream, rather, I should say, it was not a dream." He stood up and adjusted the suit he wore, and made a face.
"Why are you wearing a suit if you don't like it?" Cece asked to make the air lighter. She wanted answers, but making him angry may not work out well.
"I wear a suit because the bitch wrote it down. Apparently suited men look sexy," he frowned. "You know what, forget what I just said. You wouldn't get it anyway. Stick to what you can do the best because this might actually save your life."
"Drive me back," Cece said without thinking.
"What?"
"I said, drive me back. Let's go," she said and grabbed her purse. "I don't have any money left."
"What happened to the advance I paid you?"
Cece smirked and replied, "I have not used it. I plan to return that to you."
Gavin raised his brows questioning her intention.
"I am not going to use the money given by my parents' killer. I may be poor, but not that desperate. Now let's go. I don't want to stay out after sundown."
"What, your chariot will turn back into a pumpkin or something, after sundown?"
Without responding to his sarcasm, she started walking in a hurry. She heard Gavin's footsteps following her. He was right, there was no fear left in her mind. Curiosity, anxiety, and more curiosity, but she couldn't find any fear or anger.
"Where is your car?"
"What made you think I drove here?" Gavin put his hand inside the pockets.
"Your suit. It wouldn't look so immaculate if you had travelled in a mode of public transport."
Gavin smiled, not a fake smile, or something willing to scare her; he gave her a genuine smile of admiration. He asked her to wait for him, and in another three minutes, he drove back in a black SUV. "Whatever your intention is, I must admit this to you, I like this version of Cece."
Cece sat comfortably beside him and buckled her seatbelt. "So, tell me more. What did you dream about? Was I in your dream?"
"You know what the dream was about. You were there too."
"I don't remember a single thing. Are you sure you dreamt of me?"
Gavin didn't reply.
"Or was it a wet dream? What was I wearing in your dream?"
Gavin looked calm as a cucumber. "Is this why you're here? You want to interrogate me, don't you?"
Cece leaned back and sighed. "You should tell me what we are doing here. It seems like you know everything about everything." Her sight was lost in the distance, where the land met the sky. A stray cloud floated over the road and followed their car. She said again, "What are we doing here, Gavin? What is it that you know and I don't?"
"I can't tell you that," he said absentmindedly. He turned on the radio. A tranquil song in a foreign language played in the background. "What kind of music do you like?"
"I am liking this right now. What is she singing about?"
Gavin hummed along for a while before answering. "Her lover is going to fight a war. She wants to spend one last night with him before everything changes. She is hopeful that her country will see victory, but she also knows there is no certainty of what may happen tomorrow with them. She wants last night to be memorable so that she can spend her life with that one memory."
"Sounds pessimistic, yet romantic. Why do the greatest love stories make us cry?" Cece hummed along with Gavin.
"You write romance, you should know."
Cece muttered, "Suddenly I feel like I know nothing."
Their car moved forward leisurely, yet smoothly. He drove in a way that told Cece he was not in a hurry to return. Cece was thinking of everything that happened to her before. The first time they met, her mixed emotions about him, and then her parents' death… again after three years, seeing him in the most unimaginable way possible, was everything a part of coincidence?
"You knew who I was, where I was, and what I was doing this whole time, didn't you?"
Gavin did not deny it. "I wanted you to have a better life, a life that you deserved. Not the life of a runaway."
"Yet you forced me to run away."
"I was not exactly holding you at gunpoint. Also, it was not me who asked you to find an ex-boyfriend and leave town with her."
"Had we not been enemies, I'd think you're jealous," Cece giggled.
"I am sure there are people who are imagining scenarios in their head and thinking of it as jealousy. Be assured, it is not jealousy. I am just worried about you."
"Who else knows about me, my life, and everything that is going on between us? Do they also know my friends?" Cece felt a shot of panic in her chest.
"Don't worry. They wouldn't hurt you or your friends. They are harmless, in a way."
"And what is the other way?"
Gavin took some time to arrange his words internally. "Do you know why the ancient gods were worshipped? Because it gave them power."
"So am I worshipped, or do I get power from them? Both possibilities make me uncomfortable." Cece looked at Gavin. He was looking at her face intently. She let him look into her eyes, in return she looked into his eyes. He always looked like a villainous presence in her life. His eyes told a different story. There was a plethora of different emotions in his eyes, a restlessness that was worse than hers.
"You should pay attention to the road," she whispered.
Gavin coughed and looked away.
"I cannot give you your answers, Cece."
"You can't or won't?"
"A mix of both. Start writing for me. Work for me and get a better life. If you're as intuitive as I believe you to be, you will discover the answers yourself."
The rest of the drive remained silent. Cece pretended to doze off so that she could avoid the awkwardness. Gavin continued playing music. Cece could feel the drop in temperature; she guessed when the sun went down or when night descended. The elderly lady was right, the market was far away from the homestay.
"Cece, I know you're not sleeping. We're here," Gavin said in a tired voice.
"You knew where I was living, then why didn't you come to meet me here?" Cece looked at his face. The fear was back tugging at her heartstrings, but now the reason was different.
"I wanted to see the flower market. It has a history behind it, and I always wanted to go there. I thought you should come with me too. Thank you for accompanying me, although you were not in the mood."
"Thank you for a nice drive and the sandwich, and screw you for manipulating me to go with you. By the way, I have found the perfect title for my novel." Cece gave him a big smile. Something was changed within her, something that gave her courage.
It was pretty easy for Gavin to understand what she meant. He smiled back. "And what is that?"
"I sold my love story to the Villain."