“I’ve been stuck,” I admit. “Stuck in my own head. In what George said. What hemademe feel. Like all the work I did—getting back to myself, back to Elijah—was just some fragile little lie waiting to shatter.”
My voice tightens, but I keep going. “And for a while, I believed him. I believed that no matter how far I came, I’d always be pulled back.”
Mia leans in, touching my arm. “But you’re not back there.”
“No,” I whisper. “I’m not. And I don’t want to go back. I want more. For me. And for Elijah.”
I breathe in deep.
“Because we deserve to be happy. We deserve a relationship that’s whole andhealthy.And I don’t want trauma to be the third person in it anymore.”
Sophia’s smile is quiet and proud. “Then you’re doing the bravest thing you can.”
Mia adds, “You’re choosing tostay outof the wreckage. That’s power, Ava.”
The front door clicks open before I can say more.
Keys in the bowl. A soft thump of shoes hitting the mat. That familiar rhythm that grounds me even on the worst days.
Elijah 's home.
His voice echoes from the hall. “Hey—did I miss dinner or did someone set the kitchen on fire?”
Sophia grins. “Speak of the golden retriever.”
My chest warms, slow and full. I wipe under my eyes and stand. Not out of shame—but because I want to meet him, right where he is.
He walks in, hair wind-tossed, hoodie slightly crooked, and when he sees me, his whole face lights up.
“Hey baby,” he says softly, arms already opening.
“Hey,” I breathe.
I walk straight into him, arms sliding around his waist, head against his chest.
“You okay?” he asks, one hand already in my hair.
I nod. “I actually think I will be.”
And I mean it.
Because I’m choosing healing. Because I’m choosingus.
Because he and I deserve to build something better than what tried to break me.
Elijah hums his agreement and kisses the top of my head like he always does—no rush, no expectation, just love that’s steady and real.
And for the first time in a long time, I believe it.
We’re going to be okay. Not just because we survived, but because we’re still choosing each other.
***
The girls leave not long after he gets home—warm hugs, soft glances, whispered reassurances that they’re just a text away. They don’t overstay. They never do.
Elijah walks them out, thanking them like they’re family, like he knows what they’ve just done for me without needing the details.
When the door closes and it’s just the two of us, silence settles.
