My throat tightens a little. “They were each other’s safe place. Still are.”
There’s warmth in the memory. No regret. Just love. A kind I didn’t even understand back then.
“So when Seb said he was done—when he told me he was walking away—I didn’t think twice. I left with him. Not because I thought I deserved some kind of redemption. I didn’t. Still don’t.”
I glance at her. “But someone had to stand beside him. And it wasn’t going to be the rest of the family.”
Ava’s voice is soft. “You were his family.”
My chest tightens. “Still am.”
I can still hear the way they called us traitors. Said we were spitting on blood. But we weren’t. We were just trying to survive it.
“Everyone else tried to drag him back. Guilt-trip him. Threaten him. But I told him the truth: you don’t owe loyalty to something that demands you to destroy yourself to prove it.”
She doesn’t say anything, but I see it in her eyes—that ache. The understanding.
“When we disappeared, we cut ties clean. Seb and Gabriel left for good. Quiet life. And I came here. Opened the studio with Asher. I tried to build something that felt real.”
I pause, staring at our hands. Hers is still in mine. Steady. Warm. Real.
“I don’t regret leaving the family,” I say finally. “But sometimes… I miss the people we were before it broke us.”
Before the violence. Before the silence. Before all the things we had to bury just to survive.
Then she reaches for my hand—threading her fingers through mine like it’s the most natural thing in the world.
“You didn’t lose yourself, Elijah,” she says.
A hollow sound escapes me. A laugh, almost. “You’re wrong. I did.”
I lift her hand, press it to my lips. Not for her comfort—for mine. Because I don’t know how else to show her what this means.
“But then I met you,” I whisper. “And for the first time… I wanted to be found.”
“And Sophia’s in on this too?” Ava asks, her voice low, almost wary.
“Not her,” I say. “Her biological father was. He was one of my uncle’s and my father’s closest confidants. Died when she was little. I doubt she remembers much—and if she does, she keeps it buried. These days, I don’t think she has any idea. She’s tight with Sebastian and Gabriel; they work together at Sebas’s company. I haven’t seen her in over a year.”
Ava doesn’t interrupt. Just watches me. Focused. Quiet. Almost too quiet.
“And no,” I add before she can form the question. “There’s never been anything between us. We come from different worlds. Last I heard, she was engaged to some upper-crust pretty boy—her mother practically arranged the whole thing.”
Ava laughs. It’s sudden. Sharp. Almost out of place.
“What’s funny?” I ask, narrowing my eyes.
“They’re not engaged anymore,” she says, lips curling. “And I think she’s got a thing for one of the clients who comes by. Tall guy. Bit shorter than you. Gray eyes. I’ve seen him around your studio.”
My pulse stutters. “Kaleb Evans? Are you saying she’s into him?”
Ava nods slowly. “That’s the name. But they’re not dating. Not officially. They just… leave each other notes.”
Notes?
A cold weight settles in my chest. “And you’re sure?”
Before Ava can reply, a voice cuts through the air. Mia steps out from the back, her expression unreadable.
