We Will Love Again – Episode 32
Noah reached Crazy Maple before midnight. Joey and Aaron waited in the conference room beside a screen filled with messages from Triple AI’s directors. The acquisition he once treated as a private instrument of revenge had become a public risk to the company he built.
“The board wants an emergency review,” Aaron explained. “They believe you failed to disclose a conflict of interest.”
“They’re right.” Noah took the head seat without defending himself. “Prepare every financial and operational justification we have.”
Joey paled. “If Triple AI withdraws, we’re finished. We delayed other funding talks because you were buying us.”
Noah understood the fear he had created. Twenty-five employees had planned their futures around a deal born from his anger. Even if the company deserved investment, his motive had contaminated every promise.
“Crazy Maple will not collapse because of my mistake,” he said. “If the board blocks Triple AI, I’ll help you secure independent financing without taking control.”
Aaron studied him. “Personally funding the deal would look like another attempt to reach Alaina.”
“Then I won’t fund it personally.” Noah disliked the limitation but accepted its logic. “Find outside investors and remove me from negotiations.”
Across the city, Alaina packed her work files into a cardboard box. Sophie sat on the floor beside her, reading labels while trying not to question the speed of the decision.
“You loved that job before Noah arrived,” Sophie said at last. “Are you sure you aren’t letting him take it from you?”
Alaina placed a notebook into the box. “I loved writing. I tolerated the job.” Years of uncredited revisions and office hostility looked different now that she had permission to imagine leaving.
“What will you do?”
“Write something that belongs to me.” The answer came before Alaina could doubt it. She had outlined an original series during sleepless nights at the hospital, then buried it beneath work that paid the bills.
Sophie smiled. “That sounds suspiciously like a plan.”
By morning, Alaina returned to clear her desk. Joey intercepted her before she reached it, the strain on his face replacing his usual impatience.
“You can’t resign now,” he said. “The acquisition is frozen, and we need your projects to prove the studio has value.”
Alaina felt the old reflex to rescue everyone rise inside her. For years, need had been the quickest way to claim her time.
“I’ll document my current work and complete a proper handover,” she offered. “But I won’t withdraw my resignation.”
Joey’s frustration sharpened. “Do you realize how selfish that is?”
Noah appeared behind him before Alaina could answer. “She gave this company years of work,” he said. “If it cannot survive her lawful departure, the failure belongs to management—not to Alaina.”