Why had Ava disappeared so suddenly all those years ago? Why did both mothers lie to her? Why had she left without a word, leaving Isabella to search every street, every face, until she nearly went mad from the emptiness when she was finally told Ava was dead due to cancer?
Her tears fell harder now, dripping onto the phone screen.
"Why, Ava…" she whispered hoarsely, brushing her hand across Ava's cheek as if she could will her to wake. "Why did you leave me like that? Do you even know what you did to me?"
Isabella clutched the phone to her chest, trembling, then returned her gaze to Ava's fragile, sleeping face. For all the torment, for all the unanswered questions—she couldn't let her slip away again.
Not this time.One thing she was grateful for was, Ava was still alive and breathing.
The phone kept buzzing in Isabella's trembling hand. She wanted to throw it aside, to silence the reminder that maybe Ava had moved on, that maybe she belonged to someone else now. But jealousy had its claws deep in her chest. Before she could stop herself, she slid her thumb across the screen and lifted it to her ear.
"Lily, it's your birthday! Friends are waiting for you to say hi," Kendra's cheerful voice burst through immediately, not even pausing to hear who had answered.
Isabella's grip on the phone tightened. Her jaw clenched. Her voice came out low, controlled, but laced with a sting.
"She's not coming tonight. They can do that another time."
There was a pause on the other end. Kendra's tone shifted, sharper now.
"Who are you? And where's Lily?"
Isabella's breath hitched. Her gaze dropped to the still form on the bed—until Ava stirred. A faint groan escaped her lips as her lashes fluttered. Slowly, she blinked awake, confusion clouding her eyes. The moment she registered Isabella on the call, she reached out, her fingers brushing against her hand.
"Hey… emmm…" Ava's voice was weak, hesitant, as she gently took the phone from Isabella.
"Where are you? Who was she?" Kendra's voice demanded from the speaker.
Ava closed her eyes, swallowing. "I'm okay. I'll call you later." Without giving Kendra a chance to press further, she ended the call. Silence fell heavy in the room as she placed the phone back on the nightstand.
Her gaze lifted to Isabella. Their eyes locked—Isabella's, burning with unspoken jealousy; Ava's, clouded with questions, but trying not to add flame to the fire.
Isabella's voice softened, almost guilty. "How are you feeling?"
Ava exhaled slowly. "A little headache."
"I'll get you some medicine," Isabella said quickly, already moving to rise, but Ava's hand shot out, curling around her wrist.
"Stay." The word was gentle but firm. Ava tugged her back down until she sat again beside her. She studied her surroundings briefly, realization dawning. "Where am I?"
Isabella turned her fully, forcing her to see the truth in her eyes. "In my house. Don't worry… I didn't say anything that will put you in trouble."
Ava's lips curved faintly, but her eyes searched Isabella's face. She could see it—the jealousy carved in every line, the storm barely being held back. She let it slide, choosing silence instead.
And then, Isabella's phone rang.
Both of them looked down at it. The name glowing on the screen made Ava's stomach twist—Becca. Her photo smiled innocently back at them. Ava's throat tightened. She flicked her gaze toward Isabella, reading her every reaction.
Isabella hesitated, then answered. "Hello?"
Becca's voice was sharp, worried. "Where the hell are you?"
"I had to come back home," Isabella replied, her tone clipped, her eyes never leaving Ava.
"I have to leave now," Ava muttered, swinging her legs over the side of the bed, but before her feet touched the floor, Isabella caught her arm, pulling her gently back down.
"Becca, I'm sorry. I'll call you later."
"Girl, girllll—who is there with you?" Becca pressed, suspicion in her voice.
Isabella didn't answer. She hung up.
The silence that followed was suffocating. Ava shifted, trying to rise again. Isabella's voice cracked, raw with need.
"You can't leave now. It's too late. She can wait."
Ava's lips parted, her chest rising and falling with restrained emotion. "It's my birthday. I've got a lot to do there."
But Isabella's eyes betrayed her. They lingered, hungry, on Ava's mouth. The curve of her lips, the shape she remembered too well. She bit her lower lip, trembling, imagining what it would be like to close the distance.
Ava caught the look, and it stabbed her with familiarity. She knew that gaze. She had drowned in it before, kissed by it, undone by it. For a moment, she faltered—her heart betraying her—but she turned her face away, trying to shield herself.
"I have to leave," she said again, firmer this time. She rose from the bed, smoothing down her dress, fixing her hair with deliberate calmness, trying to put a wall between them.
"I'll drop you then," Isabella offered quickly, desperation leaking into her voice.
"No. Don't bother." Ava's reply was sharp, but when Isabella's hand caught hers mid-motion, stopping her retreat, the world stilled.
Isabella's breath caught. Her eyes fell on Ava's hand—on the ring.
That ring.
The very same ring Isabella had given her nine years ago, pressed onto her finger with love, with promises that time and distance had failed to erase.
Isabella froze, her hand trembling as her thumb brushed over the cool metal. Her chest ached, her vision blurred with tears. Words tumbled from her lips in a whisper that broke the air between them.
"You… still have it."
Ava didn't pull her hand back. Her eyes glistened, her jaw tight. She swallowed hard, her silence speaking louder than any confession.
The storm Isabella had been holding back crashed through her all at once.
Ava's phone screen glowed faintly in her trembling hands. She typed in her destination, barely able to keep her focus as her chest rose and fell in uneven breaths. When the confirmation finally buzzed, she lifted her eyes—red, damp, but steady—at Isabella.
"I'll leave now." Her voice was low, almost breaking.
"Wait…" Isabella took a cautious step forward. "Can I get your address? I know you don't come to the club at all."
Ava's lips pressed into a thin line, a bitter edge softening into something sad. She shook her head, forcing a shaky smile that didn't reach her eyes. "I'll give that to you when you manage to see me again."
And with that, she turned. No lingering look, no last word. Just the sound of her heels against the floor and the cold night air swallowing her as she left.
Isabella's throat tightened. She didn't call her back. She couldn't. Her body locked in place as though moving might shatter the fragile moment entirely. Only when Ava disappeared into the night did she let her shoulders slump, the weight of years crashing harder than the silence that followed.
But Isabella wasn't about to let her go so easily. Her fingers slipped into her jacket pocket, retrieving her phone. She scrolled quickly, heart racing, until the discreet tracking app lit up the screen. It wasn't something she was proud of—secretly keeping a way to find Ava—but she had known, deep down, that Ava would never make it easy to be found once she was angry.
Her thumb hovered over the blinking dot that marked Ava's current location. A bittersweet ache spread in her chest. She's right there… so close… yet so far from me.
She sank onto her bed, phone clutched tight, the glow reflecting off the tears she hadn't realized were falling. That night—their night—burned in her memory, every detail etched with painful clarity. The nervous laughter, the trembling hands, the whispered promises in the dark. The moment they gave each other everything, innocence unraveling in the kind of intimacy words could never capture.
It had been beautiful. It had been real.
And then Ava was gone.
Isabella had woken to absence, her heart pounding with questions she never got to ask. She never understood why Ava disappeared without a word and then only for her to receive the news of her burial, why their perfect night had shattered into silence.
Now, watching the little dot blink on her phone screen, she clenched her jaw.
Ava had no idea how much she had searched, how much she had needed answers. She knew Ava was still alive but couldn't prove it.
And Ava, on the other hand, had no idea how deeply Isabella's own family had betrayed her—how her mother had forced them apart, had ripped away something neither of them was ready to lose. But at least she did it to protect the woman her daughter loved so much from Adrain.
The questions would come, eventually. But not now.
For now, all Isabella could do was stare at the tiny blinking dot, her chest aching with a hollow longing that words could never fill.
Because no matter how far Ava ran, Isabella would always find her.