My Gorgeous Director

Chapter 8

Having Jasper around really did make everything easier.

From the moment Wren finished registration to the moment she finally sat down in the infusion hall with an IV needle in her arm, she hadn't needed to walk a single step. Jasper handled everything himself the entire time.

When the nurse came to place the IV, Jasper stepped away briefly. By the time he returned, he was carrying breakfast.

The IV had been inserted into Wren's left hand, so Jasper sat down on her right side. He opened the lid of the oatmeal container, steadied the bowl in one hand, and passed her the spoon.

"You skipped breakfast, didn't you?" he said. "This medication will wreck your stomach if you take it on an empty one. Eat a little first."

Wren had no appetite whatsoever, but the emptiness in her stomach was making the pain worse. She accepted the spoon. "Thanks," she murmured. "I'll owe you one."

Jasper immediately seized on that. "That's the whole reason I'm helping you," he said lazily. "Otherwise, with the relationship we've got, I'd be taking advantage of your hospital stay to steal a few of your projects."

As he spoke, he subtly lifted the bowl higher so it would be easier for her to eat.

Wren lowered her head and slowly took a spoonful of oatmeal before speaking in a quiet voice. "I won't be competing with you anymore."

After resigning, she planned to leave everything behind and start over in another city with a completely different life. She had enough savings now to open a small guesthouse in some quiet town where life moved slowly. She could spend her days surrounded by cats and dogs, living freely and peacefully.

Her voice had been too soft. Jasper only caught fragments of what she said. He glanced at the IV bag, checked the drip rate, then looked back at her. "What?"

Wren swallowed the oatmeal and lifted her eyes calmly. "I said thank you."

Jasper was fairly certain that wasn't what Wren had originally said, but he let it go. Instead, he reached over and poked her forehead lightly. "Why do you keep staring at the floor?" he teased. "Feeling guilty about something?"

Wren slapped his hand away. "I'm trying not to let my mom see me."

Back when she'd secretly changed her college application, left Seaport behind, and abandoned medicine for finance, her mother had exploded with rage. Later, when she started dating Adrian, her mother had hoped she'd end up with a doctor instead. Wren refused to listen, and ever since then, the relationship between mother and daughter had remained tense and brittle.

Her mother had once told her coldly, "Your future and your love life are both your own choices. Just don't regret them later."

And Wren never had. She was the one who made those choices. Even if she chose wrong, even if the consequences left her bloodied and broken, she would bear them herself. She just didn't want her mother seeing her in such a miserable state.

"Your mom?" Jasper suddenly swore under his breath. "s**t. How did I forget about that?"

His reaction was so dramatic that Wren almost laughed. He immediately pulled up the hood of his black wool coat.

Wren's mother worked at Songview Medical Center. Back then, Jasper had avoided this hospital like the plague purely because of her. He'd left Seaport for half a year and only returned a few days ago, so the memory had completely slipped his mind.

Watching him hurriedly put his hood on, Wren finally laughed softly despite herself. "What are you doing?" she asked. "You're still scared of my mom?"

"Of course I am," Jasper shot back immediately. "Back then she thought we were dating and accused me of leading you astray. She chased me down three whole blocks while yelling at me. I didn't dare lift my head the entire time. Psychological trauma like that doesn't just disappear."

The amusement in Wren's eyes slowly faded.

Jasper was talking about their senior year of high school. At the time, they had become closer for being a study pair, and her mother assumed they were secretly dating. In front of a crowd of people, she'd slapped Wren across the face. Later, she'd even searched through Wren's diary.

When Wren found out, she completely lost control and lashed out in hysteria. Her mother only looked at her calmly and said, "I'm doing this for your own good."

Because in her mother's eyes, love had never mattered nearly as much as academics or career prospects.

Jasper noticed the distant look in Wren's eyes and instantly remembered that slap too. Regret flickered through him. He'd spoken too carelessly and accidentally brought up one of the most humiliating moments of her life.

He cleared his throat awkwardly, his Adam's apple bobbing once before he clumsily changed the subject. "So," he asked casually, "does your stomach feel any better now?"

Wren finally snapped back to the present. "Yeah. A little."

Then she suddenly remembered something. Setting down the spoon, she reached into her pocket and pulled out her wallet. "Oh, right. Let me pay you back."

Earlier, after they left the doctor's office, Jasper had been the one who handled all the registration and payment fees.

But before Wren could even open her wallet, Jasper snatched it right out of her hand. He looked genuinely offended.

"Do I look broke to you?" he scoffed. "This amount wouldn't even cover one of my meals. Why don't you just offer to buy me dinner instead?"

Wren only meant to be polite, but she still asked, "Then... should I treat you to dinner?"

Jasper immediately grinned, looking far too pleased with himself. "Sure. I want to eat at 10 Bay Curve Road."

Wren was left speechless. The man really had no shame at all.

10 Bay Curve Road was the most expensive restaurant in Seaport. Reservations had to be made three months in advance, only ten tables were served each night, and prices started at two thousand dollars per person.

Wren felt she could still fight for her life. "Jasper," Wren said flatly, "do you remember freshman year, when you got beaten half to death and I carried you to the hospital? I registered you, paid your bills, and even bought you food afterward. I didn't take advantage of you back then."

Throughout high school, Wren and Jasper had been classmates. But aside from being able to coexist peacefully during study groups, they were complete opposites at all other times.

Wren preferred quiet. Her mother's overbearing nature and excessive control made her seem like nothing more than a sensitive, introverted bookworm. Only Jasper ever noticed the stubbornness and defiance hidden beneath her placid surface.

Jasper, on the other hand, was outgoing. In high school, he embodied a strange mix of top student and delinquent—good-looking, academically brilliant, but always getting into fights and stirring up trouble. Teachers didn't know whether to love him or hate him. His classmates adored him and secretly called him the "smart rebel." But only Wren knew the fragility and loneliness that lay beneath his arrogant exterior.

Logically speaking, aside from being "classmates," their paths should never have crossed again. The one thing that gave them a chance to truly see each other was that incident in 9th grade—when Wren took a shortcut through an alley to get home earlier and found Jasper lying there, covered in blood.

Her first instinct was to call the police or contact his family, but he stopped her. She then suggested they go to the hospital. He forced a crooked grin—the kind a street punk would flash—and said it was just a few scratches that a couple of Band-Aids could fix.

He could barely stand straight.

Wren just stared at him in silence for a full two minutes. She held his gaze until Jasper's smirk slowly faded. His shoulders slumped, and a faint blush crept up to the tips of his ears. "Fine. Maybe we should go to the hospital. But I don't have any money."

She didn't miss the flash of embarrassment and vulnerability that crossed his eyes when he mentioned "money"—but she pretended not to see it.

"So really, Jasper..." Wren leaned back against the chair and looked at him lazily. "This should count as you repaying a life debt."

Jasper laughed softly, his low voice carrying that same lazy, dangerously flirtatious edge. "Fine," he said. "Let's call it even then."

But then his tone shifted. "Since you're bringing up the past, though, we should probably settle all the old scores while we're at it."

Wren narrowed her eyes. "What scores?"

Jasper leaned closer, smiling slowly. "The score for playing with my feelings back then."

She fell into silence again.