ICE COLD

Chapter Four: Manipulation

The night air was cool as Jenna stepped out of the café. Collin had insisted on walking her home, but she’d convinced him she was fine alone. He hadn’t argued—another strange detail that unsettled her more than if he’d made a scene. The Colin she knew would have insisted, would have followed her despite her refusal. Tonight, his offer had felt half-hearted.

His phone chimed loudly. You have a message from Rachel, the A.I. announced.

Rachel? Jenna thought, her chest tightening.

Before she could ask anything, Collin kissed her quickly on the cheek and hurried off to God-knows-where.

Was Rachel trying to reach me? Jenna thought again as she reached for her phone in her trouser pocket. And why is Collin being doggy about her call? she frown.

It was there. No missed calls. No texts from her.

"Would be nice if they're both finally getting along," she thought letting out a soft chuckle, imagining Rachel face hearing this thought, right now.

She exhaled and continued her walk home.

By the time she reached her apartment building, her chest ached with exhaustion. The faint smell of bleach and dampness welcomed her on the stairways—the kind of scent that clung to old buildings. She climbed slowly, each step heavier than the last.

When she unlocked the door, the familiar hum of the TV drifted from the living room. Her mother was still awake.

“Mom?” Jenna called softly, setting down her bag.

“In here, sweetheart,” came the reply, warm but tired.

She found her mother curled up on the couch, wrapped in a blanket, an old movie flickering across the screen. The lines on her face looked sharper under the glow of the TV, her once-bright eyes dulled by the endless cycle of treatments and medications.

“You should be asleep,” Jenna scolded gently, slipping out of her shoes.

“I was waiting for you.” Her mother patted the cushion beside her. “Sit.”

Jenna sank into the couch, resting her head against her mother’s shoulder. For a while, they sat in silence, the sound of the movie filling the space between them.

“You’re quiet tonight,” her mother said eventually.

Jenna hesitated. She didn’t want to burden her—not with Colin, not with her worries about money, not with the gnawing doubt clawing at her chest. But the words came anyway.

“Collin has this new plan,” she said softly. “He says it’s different this time. That everything will change.”

Her mother hummed, neither agreeing nor disagreeing. “And do you believe him?”

Jenna’s throat tightened. She stared at her hands, twisting them in her lap. “I don’t know. Part of me wants to. Some other part of me knows better.”

Her mother took her hand, frail fingers squeezing with surprising strength. “Wanting to believe someone doesn’t make them true, Jenna. It just makes you human.”

Jenna blinked back sudden tears. Her mother always knew how to cut to the core without judgment.

She leaned into her, breathing in the faint scent of lavender that clung to her clothes. “I’m so tired, Mom. Of holding everything together. Of being afraid the bottom’s going to drop out any second. I’m tired of being weak. I’m tired of everything.”

Her mother stroked her hair gently. “My dear little sweet child, it’s about time you are. You’ve been carrying too much for too long. But you’re stronger than you think. Just… don’t lose yourself trying to save someone who doesn’t want to be saved.”

Collin’s face flickered in her mind again—his smile, his empty promises that always sounded too good to be true. Yet she always fall for it every time. Maybe, intentionally most times.

Her chest constricted.

“I’ll try, Mama,” Jenna whispered.

But even as the words left her lips, she wasn’t sure she believed them.

The credits rolled on the TV, the screen fading to black. And in the quiet of that moment, Jenna realized the truth she couldn't dare say out loud—Collin had never loved her the way she loved him. Their relationship had always been one-sided. He knew it, and he used it efficiently against her.

After all, he knew she was never going to leave him. Because somewhere deep inside her, was that same terrified little girl who was still scared of being alone.

Jenna couldn't let go of Collin because it would finally mean being alone.

And that, she thought, was the most terrifying fate of all.

***** ***** *****

The alarm felt like an hammer, being hitted against her head. 7:00 a.m.

Jenna slapped at her phone with more force than necessary, groaning as the shrill sound cut through her half-sleep. Her eyes burned, heavy from a night of tossing and turning. She had tried every position, even pressed a pillow over her head to drown out her restless thoughts, but Collin’s words had clung to her like burrs:

"This deal is a breakthrough, Jenna. I just need you to find the money to fund it. If it pulls through, you’ll never have to worry about a thing again."

Now, with daylight creeping through the curtains, those words pulsed in her head, hanging heavy.

Dragging herself out of bed, she splashed cold water on her face, hoping to shock the heaviness away. It didn’t help. Even her reflection in the mirror seemed off—dark circles under her eyes, her usually bright gaze dimmed.

By the time she pushed through her morning routine and made it into the office with coffee in hand, her mood was already soured. Every sound seemed louder—the clatter of keyboards, the shrill ring of phones, the squeak of office chairs.

Her phone buzzed. Rachel.

She answered, forcing her voice lighter than she felt. “Hey, Rach.”

“Hey yourself,” Rachel replied, warm but edged with concern. “You sound… rough. Didn’t sleep?”

Jenna slumped into her chair, lowering her voice so no one nearby could overhear. “Barely. My brain just wouldn’t shut up.”

“Collin?” Rachel guessed immediately.

The name landed heavy. Jenna let out a half-laugh, half-sigh. “How do you always know?”

“Because you let him live rent-free in your head, that’s why. What did he say this time?”

Jenna traced her finger along the rim of her coffee cup, debating how much to share. “Just… the usual. That I should trust him on this new deal. He needs me to fund it, Rach. Says it’s for our good. But I don’t have a million dollars lying around. He wants me to borrow it—on my tab. But I can’t. I’ve already got too many debts on my back.”

Rachel hummed softly, a sound that could mean a dozen things—agreement, doubt, or just patience. “He does care about you. But honestly, Jen, don’t you think he pushes too hard sometimes? It’s like he wants to be the only voice in your life. How can that freak ask you to borrow a million dollars, Jen, knowing very well how much you struggle?!”

That landed sharper than Rachel might have intended. Jenna blinked at her desk, suddenly more awake. “He’s my boyfriend. He just… cares. Worries.”

“Maybe,” Rachel allowed gently, “but you’ve got to ask yourself—where does caring end, and being selfish and controlling begin?”

Jenna’s throat tightened. She didn’t want to admit it, but Rachel’s words echoed the thought that had haunted her ceiling-staring hours last night.

“Don’t overthink it,” Rachel added quickly, sensing the silence. “We’ll talk later, okay? Maybe dinner? You could use a distraction.”

“Yeah. Dinner sounds good,” Jenna said, though her voice carried a weariness she couldn’t hide.

When the call ended, she stared at her phone for a long moment. Rachel’s voice had been kind, somewhat reassuring. But Colin’s voice lingered, sharp and domineering, echoing louder in her head.

"I need this money, Jen... You know me more than anyone... just trust me. I'm doing this for us.."

Sometimes, Jenna found it difficult to decide which voice to believe—Collin’s, dragging her deeper into his schemes and debts, or Rachel’s, always trying to pull her back to reason.

“Get the f**k out of my head, Collin,” Jenna whispered as she slumped in her chair, picking up a pen and file before setting to work.