Chapter 739 Yes, Elliot, I'm With Someone Now 3
Molly saw it all.
As Elliot's car swept past them, tears gathered at the corners of Molly's eyes. But Elliot couldn't see them anymore - all he saw was her in Blake's arms.
It was over. Everything was over.
Elliot told himself this was for the best. Molly had found where she belonged, and whether he married or stayed single, he wouldn't lie awake at night wrestling with thoughts of her. No more longing for someone who was out of reach. No more tearing himself apart with love and resentment.
Blake had seen Elliot too. He asked Molly quietly, "Do you want to go explain? There's still time."
Blake wasn't a selfless man by nature. He cared for Molly, but his feelings were tangled with something deeper - a protective instinct that made him want her happiness even if it wasn't with him.
Molly was different from him. She was a movie star, but sometimes Blake saw her as a lost puppy that no one wanted, and he ached to take her home.
If Elliot didn't want her, then he would.
But she wouldn't come home with him. She wouldn't bow her head to Elliot either.
Blake didn't push. He sensed that something had gone terribly wrong between Molly and Elliot years ago - something that had driven them apart for good.
The night pressed down around them, heavy and dark.
Molly rode the elevator alone, staring up at the red numbers as they climbed. Her mind was blank, though the day had been pleasant enough. Yet tears kept falling down her cheeks, unstoppable and beyond her control.
Her phone buzzed repeatedly - Celine reminding her about tomorrow's schedule.
Molly answered mechanically, her voice barely above a whisper. "I know."
Celine caught on immediately. "You ran into that bastard Elliot, didn't you? Didn't he dump you already? Why is he messing with your head again? Molly, listen to me - don't let one glimpse of Elliot make you act like your life is hopeless again. You've got nobody to rely on but yourself. Men are worthless, you hear me? All they do is bring their mistresses home to spite you until the stress eats you alive. Get your head on straight!"
"I know," Molly whispered.
"You don't know shit! This film is everything, Molly. Win Best Actress, and the whole damn industry is yours. You're young. You're gorgeous. The road ahead is on fire for you. Molly—listen to me—your future is burning hot. Do you get me?"
Molly forced a smile. "I know."
Celine was more serious than usual. "Molly, you're not doing this for any man. You're doing it for yourself. One day, when you're at the very top of this industry, you won't ever feel like you're not enough for anyone."
The elevator reached her floor, but Molly didn't step out. She closed her eyes and let the tears fall.
In that moment, she felt overwhelming gratitude for Celine - for pulling her out of the abyss.
Molly didn't see Elliot again until the film wrapped.
The movie was an art house piece - high quality but risky for mainstream audiences. The production team had pulled together multiple sponsors, but they were all small players. No single investor had stepped up with major backing.
The night before Christmas Eve, the director of "Endless Echoes" arranged a dinner meeting with potential financiers at the Sunset Hotel.
The lead actors were required to attend. Molly had resisted until Celine reminded her about the children back in her hometown village - didn't they need coal for winter? Didn't they need warm clothes?
Celine knew exactly which strings to pull. She had Molly wrapped around her finger.
Molly finally agreed, but insisted she wouldn't drink.
Celine smoothed Molly's dress and played along. "You won't get the chance anyway. Tonight's crowd is all high-class businessmen with reputations to maintain. They're not cheap sleazebags. The atmosphere will be perfectly civilized - you just sit there and look pretty."
Molly wrinkled her nose. "I'm not here to be eye candy."
Celine laughed.
But beneath the banter, Molly understood the stakes. Fifty million dollars in marketing budget hung on tonight's investors.
At eight PM, Molly's driver dropped her off at the Sunset Hotel. Celine couldn't accompany her into this kind of meeting, so Molly entered the private dining room alone.
The moment she pushed open the door, she froze.
Elliot was there.
He wore a black wool coat that made him look elegant and untouchable. Director Walter Wood was fawning over the wealthy investor, speaking in hushed, reverent tones.
Walter had been about to hang up Elliot's coat himself when Molly walked in. Seeing an opportunity to show even more deference, Walter gestured to her.
"Help Mr. Windsor with his coat."
Molly couldn't move.
Under the warm restaurant lighting, she stared at Elliot as if seeing him for the first time. The months apart had changed him somehow.
Every inch of him radiated the confidence of a man who had come into his full power.
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