“I’m perfectly fine, guys.” I try to smile, but it doesn’t reach my eyes.
They both exchange a worried look before turning back to me. Guilt presses on my chest. I feel like a total brat for making my parents worry about me.
Daddy’s gaze shifts behind me. I turn my head. Zoan is walking downstairs, dressed in a black shirt and trousers,his suit jacket hanging in one hand. His expression is calm, very calm.
He walks toward us and sits down on the couch Leo vacated.
Daddy looks at him. “Did Avi tell you about her breakup with Marco?”
Zoan’s eyes meet mine briefly before he slowly shakes his head.
Mama glances between the two of us. “Did you two fight?”
“Why would I fight with someone who gives zero shit about me?” I reply flatly, my tone sharp enough to make her blink.
Wen clears her throat. “Avi, let’s make some hot chocolate for you. It always makes your mood better.”
I get up from the couch without saying anything and follow her. I have no interest in staying in that room with him sitting there, breathing the same air as me.
Halfway down the hallway, Wen suddenly stops. “Oh wait, I have something to give you.” She grabs my hand and starts pulling me toward her room. “I prepared it for your wedding. But since it’s not happening, let’s…”
She closes the door behind us and turns to face me. The concern on her face drops into frustration. “What the fuck happened, Avi?”
I sit on her bed. Then, quietly, I tell her everything. The shock that spreads across her face would’ve been funny if I wasn’t this numb.
“This guy is hopeless,” she says, shaking her head in disbelief. “He’s ready to die, but not have a relationship with you.”
“I don’t want to talk about him for the next few weeks… or months.”
She sits beside me and pats my shoulder gently. “It’s okay. We’ll go back to our heaven, and we’ll staythere happily.”
chapter 30
Avira
If I had the authority, I would’ve given my sister the world’s biggest award, preferably the Eiffel Tower itself. She’s such an incredible pianist. Even without knowing a single note of music, I still feel every emotion she pours out, tugging at my heartstrings like they’re part of her melody. That’s why insane crowds show up at her concerts every single time.
Right now, she’s playing something soft and soothing. We’re having a private concert in our music room. I’m lying with my head on Pa’s shoulder, he still has that solid, comforting strength even at his age. Broad chest, firm arms… our Pa is a sexy old man.
The tune shifts into something romantic. I lift my head from Pa’s shoulder so he can wrap an arm around Ma and enjoy it properly, and I can have my own little misery party missing a certain asshole of a man.
It’s been a month since I last saw him, last talked to him. I miss him every single day, but I’m still mad as hell. If he thinks this is how we should live—separated, pretending—then so be it. I’m done fighting for something that keeps breaking me. I won’t move an inch this time.
And trust me, it’s the hardest thing I’ve ever done, because all I want is to run back into his arms. I know exactly how he’d react, how his hold would tighten around me like he’s scared I’ll vanish. But I also know his patterns. His determination weakens for a heartbeat, then rebuilds itself stronger than before. I want to crush that determination, shatter it with my own hands.
Her beautiful long fingers strike the final keys, letting the notes linger in the air like the last breath of a dream. She turns gracefully on her stool and bows toward us.
We clap for her.
“You must play the last one in your next concert,” Ma says.
She grins. “Of course, Ma. I’ll play that one, and twenty others you’ve picked.”
We all laugh.
Pa turns to me. “Have you talked with Zo about the event?”
The new book I published ten days ago has been sitting at the number one best-selling position ever since. Because of that, the online publication platform I work with has organized a signing event in Los Angeles, scheduled three days from now.
