Bzzzz. Bzzzz.
Ava’s phone buzzed again, rattling against the glass tabletop beside the untouched flute of champagne. She didn’t reach for it. She didn’t have to. The glow of the screen spelled his name like a curse.
> Nathaniel: “Where are you?”
“Smile, Ava.”
“They’re watching.”
“Let’s make this night count.”
Ava let out a soft, bitter laugh. “Of course they’re watching,” she muttered, running her fingers through her perfectly styled hair. “That’s the whole point, right?”
She looked down at her dress—silk, tailored, flawless. The kind of dress that made other women pause. The kind Nathaniel picked out.
“The perfect woman,” she whispered. “In the perfect life.”
Her eyes flicked up to the rooftop skyline. It was beautiful—ridiculously so. The sunset melted into the glass towers. String lights twinkled above her like artificial stars.
Laughter drifted from the guests behind her. Clinks of crystal. Polished voices. Money. Power.
A violinist played a slow, haunting tune near the bar. She had once thought violins were the sound of romance. Now they just sounded like an obligation with a melody.
“Everything he promised me,” she murmured. “Everything I thought I wanted.”
The door behind her slid open with a gentle ‘shhhk’. A waiter stepped out, scanned the space, and hesitated when he saw her alone.
“Miss Lancaster?” he said carefully. “Mr. Pierce is about to give his toast.”
Ava didn’t turn. “Tell him I’ll be right there.”
The waiter nodded and slipped back inside.
She exhaled shakily, placing both hands on the cold railing in front of her. Below, the city pulsed like a living thing—chaotic, alive, real.
“I built this life,” she said. “Piece by piece. Smile by smile.”
But it didn’t feel like hers anymore. It felt like a role she had been cast in.
Nathaniel stepped beside her, his smile wide and perfect, like it always was, and like the world belonged to them.
“You look radiant tonight,” he said, his voice smooth, like it had been rehearsed. He lifted his glass in a gesture that felt rehearsed too. “To the woman I love.”
The people around them smiled, some clapped. Ava nodded, lifting her own glass—her fingers trembling, but she didn’t drink.
Her heart pounded against her chest, out of sync with the music playing in the background, out of sync with the evening. She smiled, but it didn’t reach her eyes.
Nathaniel’s voice continued, his words about press coverage, meetings, the party redo, as though they had lived in the same bubble for years, untouched by anything else. His voice was steady, confident—no cracks, no shadows. It was polished. It was perfect.
Ava looked at her ring, its diamond sparkling in the soft light. And yet, there was nothing inside her that matched its shine.
He leaned in, his voice soft now, as though they shared a secret.
“Can you believe we made it through all of that chaos?” he asked.
Ava tilted her head, meeting his gaze, and let her eyes narrow slightly. “What chaos?” she asked, confused.
Nathaniel chuckled, brushing a stray lock of hair from her cheek. “The collapse. The fainting spell. The doctor drama. The boutique meltdown.”
Ava blinked, taken aback. “You really think that’s what happened?”
He paused, clearly thrown off by her reaction. “Well, yes. What else would I think?”
Ava turned away, her eyes on the horizon, the darkening skyline beyond them. “And what about me? Do you really believe I’m the same?”
Nathaniel smiled, brushing her arm lightly with his fingers, but this time she didn’t feel the warmth she once had.
“Of course you are,” he said. “Maybe calmer. You just needed rest.”
Ava pulled back, a wave of frustration flooding her chest.
“You think I just needed rest?” Her voice didn’t shake, but her words hit him like a slap.
Nathaniel’s frown deepened. “Ava, what’s going on?”
She turned toward him, the words spilling from her like they’d been bottled up too long. “You’re in love with the version of me that never existed.”
Nathaniel’s eyes widened, and the smile that had been on his face faltered. “That’s not true.”
“Isn’t it?” Ava asked, finally meeting his gaze with the rawness she had kept hidden for so long. “You love the curated Ava. The composed one. The one who never screamed.”
Nathaniel laughed uncomfortably, glancing away. “Everyone has messy moments. What matters is you’re better now. That you came back to me.”
Ava stepped away from the table, putting distance between them. Her breath was sharp. “You don’t even want to know where I’ve been.”
“You were in recovery,” he said, his tone clipped. “Exhaustion. Stress. We don’t have to rehash it.”
Ava narrowed her eyes, the frustration surging again. “Would you even believe me if I told you the truth?”
“Ava, I believe in you,” he said gently, as if that could solve everything. “You don’t have to perform for me.”
“But I have to pretend for you,” she shot back, the words cutting through the air. The music around them faded into the background as the words settled between them.
The table grew quiet. Nathaniel sighed, exhaling like he couldn’t understand the weight of what was happening. “I’ve always wanted the best for you.”
“You wanted the version of me that looked best beside you,” she replied, her voice low, steady, but cutting.
Nathaniel stood slowly, his posture defensive, and his voice softened but held a tight edge. “What is this really about?”
Ava’s gaze locked with his. She wasn’t sure what she had expected, but what she saw was a man who had been building his own safe world around her.
A man who was used to control, to perfection. And yet, in that moment, Ava saw the cracks in him. The comfort. The calculation.
“It’s about someone who saw me even when I didn’t see myself,” she whispered.
Nathaniel’s brows furrowed. “There’s someone else?”
Ava didn’t flinch. “There was.”
“Someone who hurt you?” he asked, his voice strained.
“Someone who loved me,” she said softly. “Even when I couldn’t.”
Nathaniel’s smile faltered, crumbling in the face of her words.
“I’ve always loved you,” he said, his voice cracking. “You know that.”
“No,” she said firmly, shaking her head. “You loved the version of me who never cracked. Who smiled for the cameras. Who wore the crown you picked out for her.”
His eyes searched hers, the disbelief still clouding his face. “I thought we wanted the same future,” he said, his voice rising slightly, desperate.
Ava shook her head, her breath steady despite the turmoil inside. “You never asked me what I wanted. You just built it around me and handed me the script.”
“You’re being dramatic,” he said, his voice tightening.
“Maybe,” she said softly. “But at least I’m finally being me.”
The music played on. The stars didn’t blink. But something inside her shifted, cracked like glass realigning.
Nathaniel set his drink down, his hand shaking. “You’re going to throw this away for some fantasy?”
“No,” she said, her voice steady, but her heart pounding. “I’m walking away because I finally stopped believing in yours.”
Silence. The kind that burned. The kind that shattered everything.
Nathaniel looked down at her hand, the ring still gleaming in the soft light, and then back up at her face. “I gave you everything,” he said quietly, his voice strained.
Ava’s breath hitched. She looked down at the ring. The symbol of everything she had been told to want.
“You gave me a mask to wear,” she replied softly. “And I wore it so long, I forgot what I looked like underneath.”
“You’re making a mistake,” he said, a warning in his tone.
“No,” she said, stepping away from him. “I’m making a choice. The right one.”
She looked at him one last time. In that brief moment, she saw the version of herself she had built for him—the polished girl, the composed fiancée. She didn’t hate that girl. But she didn’t want to be her anymore.
Ava lifted her hand and pulled the ring free from her finger. She placed it gently on the table in front of him.
“I’m sorry,” she said softly. “But I’m not coming back to this.”
She turned and walked away.
The music didn’t stop. The lights didn’t dim. No one chased her. The door opened, and she stepped into the elevator, descending through gold and glass. The weight of her decision pressed down on her, but there was a sense of finality in it.
She had made it.
As she walked out of the building, the doorman gave her a polite smile. “Miss Lancaster,” he said.
She nodded once, then stepped out into the cool night. The city moved around her, cars passing by, people walking, unaware of what had just broken inside her.
The watch on her wrist buzzed.
She looked down. The screen was blank.
She kept walking. A block. Two.
She turned the corner and stood beneath the clock tower downtown. It was nearly midnight. A group of tourists laughed nearby, taking selfies. A couple kissed beneath the lamppost.
Ava looked up at the clock as the first bell rang out. Twelve sharp, deep chimes. Each one echoing like a heartbeat.
The final chime rang out. The world held its breath. Ava looked down at her wrist. The watch flickered. Then flared. Not gold this time. Red.