Not all at once, like a slap or a shove, but slowly, like it hurts her to do it.
Like it’s the last thing she wants, and the only thing she knows how to do.
Her fingers are still curled in my shirt, like her body hasn’t caught up to her mind yet.
But her eyes… Her eyes won’t meet mine.
“Ava,” I whisper, barely able to get her name out past the ache forming in my chest.
She lets go of me like I’m fire.
“No,” she says, voice so quiet it almost doesn’t make it through the space between us. “We can’t do this.”
The words slice through the warmth we’d just built like a cold wind through a cracked door.
“I thought…” I start, then stop, because Iknow.
I know she felt it too.
“You thought right,” she says, shaking her head.
“That’s the problem.”
She steps back, wrapping her arms around herself like armor.
“I don’t know how to do this,” she adds. “Not without ruining it. Not without ruiningyou.”
I take a step toward her, but she backs up farther, bumping against the edge of the desk.
“You won’t ruin me, Ava,” I say, steady. “You never could.”
She lets out a hollow laugh.
“You say that now. But you don’t know what it’s like to be let in, only to find out the walls were there for a reason.”
“I’veseenyour walls,” I reply gently.
“I know why they’re there. I’m not trying to tear them down, I’m just…”
“Trying to love me?” she cuts in, eyes flashing.
“You don’t even know what you’re asking for.”
There’s a long silence.
The kind that feels heavier than yelling.
I breathe in slowly. “Then tell me. Show me what it looks like to stay. Because I’m not walking away unless you make me.”
She looks at me then, really looks and for a split second, I see it.
The war behind her ribs. The part of her screaming to run.
And the quieter, braver part… begging her to stay.
“I need time,” she says finally. “I just… I need space to think. To breathe.”
I nod, even though everything in me wants to fight it. “Okay. You take your time. I’m not going anywhere.”
