Ava’s fingers clenched around the strap of her bag as she walked through the crowded school hallway. The buzz of conversation, laughter, and the occasional locker slamming together created a chaotic melody she had learned to tune out. She kept her gaze straight ahead, willing herself not to turn, not to look, not to acknowledge the presence she could feel just a few feet behind her. Noah Reynolds. His name was a weight pressing against her chest, an unwanted echo of a past she wished she could erase. Once, he had been her everything—the boy who had held her hand when she was scared, who had whispered ridiculous jokes to make her laugh, who had promised, in the naïve way teenagers did, that he would always be there. And then he wasn’t. The sharp pang of betrayal twisted inside her, but she swallowed it down, forcing herself to breathe evenly. She had mastered this art—pretending he didn’t exist, pretending his presence didn’t send a storm raging through her veins. Ava had rebuilt herself, brick by brick, after her mother died and Noah walked away as if she had been nothing but an inconvenience. She didn’t need him. She didn’t need anyone. The thought barely formed before her traitorous eyes flickered to the side, catching a glimpse of dark curls and sharp blue eyes. Noah was walking a few feet away, his posture relaxed, and his expression unreadable. He always looked that way now—calm, detached, as if nothing touched him. As if the past didn’t weigh on him like it did on her. Anger coiled hot in her stomach. How dare he? How dare he act like she didn’t exist, like she hadn’t once mattered? It was as if he had flipped a switch and erased everything between them, while she was left drowning in memories she couldn’t escape. Ava’s fists tightened, nails biting into her palm. She didn’t have time for this. Today was just another day, another step closer to finishing school and getting as far away from this place—and from him—as possible. “Hey, Ava!” She blinked, her focus snapping back to the present as her best friend, Lia, appeared beside her. The warmth of her presence was an instant relief, grounding her in something real, something safe. “You okay?” Lia asked, her brows knitting together in concern. “Yeah,” Ava lied smoothly, forcing a smile. “Just tired.” Lia didn’t look convinced but nodded anyway. “Well, you won’t have time to be tired. Mr. Carter is looking for volunteers to help with art supplies in the storeroom. And guess who he already signed up?” Ava groaned. “Lia—” “Don’t ‘Lia’ me. You need to do something other than brood in the library. Plus, it’s just sorting supplies. What’s the worst that could happen?” The answer to that question arrived seconds later in the form of Mr. Carter himself, walking toward them with a clipboard and an enthusiastic grin. “Ah, Ava! Perfect timing. You and Noah will be working together in the storeroom today.” Ava’s stomach plummeted. “What?” she blurted, barely managing to keep her voice even. Mr. Carter nodded, oblivious to the sudden tension between her and the boy standing a few feet away. “Noah already agreed, and we need another set of hands. Shouldn’t take more than an hour.” Ava didn’t need to look at Noah to know he had heard. She could feel it—that shift in the air, the unspoken awareness that existed between them despite everything. Lia winced sympathetically, whispering, “Oops.” Ava wanted to run. She wanted to refuse. But she also knew Mr. Carter wouldn’t take no for an answer, and backing out now would only make her look weak. So she lifted her chin, squared her shoulders, and muttered, “Fine.” Noah didn’t say anything. He just turned and walked toward the storeroom, leaving Ava no choice but to follow. The space was small and cluttered, shelves packed with paint cans, brushes, and rolls of canvas stacked haphazardly. The air smelled of turpentine and dust, and the dim lighting did little to ease the suffocating tightness in her chest. For a few minutes, they worked in silence, sorting through supplies with an unspoken agreement to ignore each other. But the weight of unsaid words pressed against Ava like a vice, tightening with every second that passed. Finally, she snapped. “You don’t have to act like this is some huge burden, you know.” Noah paused, a can of paint in his hand. He turned to her, his gaze calm, unreadable. “I never said it was.” His voice was deeper than she remembered steadier. It sent an unwelcome shiver down her spine, but she refused to let it show. “Right. Because you don’t care about anything, do you?” she said bitterly. Something flickered in his expression, too fast for her to decipher. “Believe whatever you want, Ava.” Her jaw clenched. “I don’t have to believe anything. I know exactly who you are.” Noah exhaled, placing the can on the shelf with slow precision. “Do you?” The quiet question caught her off guard, but she refused to back down. “Yeah. I do.” He studied her for a long moment before shaking his head slightly. “Then I guess there’s nothing left to say.” Ava opened her mouth to retort, but the words lodged in her throat. Because deep down, she hated that he was right. The worst part of losing someone wasn’t the absence—it was the knowing that they had chosen to leave. And Noah had made his choice a long time ago. So she turned away, focusing on the supplies, on the task at hand. Because at least here, in this moment, she had something she could control. Even if everything else felt like it was slipping through her fingers.

The door to the storeroom shut behind Ava with a dull thud, sealing her inside with the one person she had spent months avoiding. The air in the small room felt heavier now, thick with tension that neither of them wanted to address. Ava busied herself with a box of brushes, willing herself not to look at him. She could feel his presence— a silent force in the cramped space, making it impossible to ignore the memories that clawed their way back into her mind. Noah was quiet. Too quiet. The kind of silence that made her uneasy. “Just sort the brushes and get out of here,” she muttered under her breath. Noah, who had been stacking paint cans on a nearby shelf, let out a soft scoff. “You think I want to be here?” Ava bristled, turning to glare at him. “Then why did you agree?” He didn’t answer right away. Instead, he placed the last can carefully before finally meeting her gaze. “It’s an art storeroom, Ava. Not a battlefield.” Her fingers curled around the wooden handle of a brush, a futile attempt to keep her frustration in check. “Right. Because you’d rather pretend nothing ever happened between us.” His jaw tightened slightly, but his expression remained neutral. “And what exactly do you want me to say?” Ava let out a bitter laugh. “Nothing. Just like before. You were always good at that.” For a moment, she thought she saw something flicker in his eyes—guilt, regret, something real. But just as quickly, it was gone, buried beneath that maddeningly calm exterior. Noah sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. “Look, let’s just get this done, okay?” Fine. If he wanted to pretend this was nothing, she would too. They worked in silence, the only sounds the occasional rustle of paper and the clinking of supplies being placed on shelves. But the quiet wasn’t peaceful—it was suffocating, filled with everything they weren’t saying. Ava’s mind drifted to the past, to the days when silence between them had been comfortable. When they could sit side by side without words and still understand each other. Now, every second felt like a battle she was losing. She turned away, reaching for another box when a sudden, sharp pang hit her chest. Not now. Not here. Her breathing hitched, and she pressed her fingers to her temples, squeezing her eyes shut. But the memory slammed into her like a tidal wave anyway. Her mother’s frail body in that hospital bed. The sterile smell of disinfectant. The beeping machines that couldn’t keep her alive. And Noah walking away. Ava gasped softly, shaking her head as if that could dislodge the memory. But the panic was already rising, clawing at her ribs. Noah noticed. “Ava?” His voice was softer now, hesitant. She didn’t want his concern. She didn’t want anything from him. “I’m fine,” she snapped, shoving a box aside more forcefully than necessary. He didn’t look convinced, but he didn’t push. Instead, he turned back to his task, jaw tight. Minutes passed, dragging on painfully. Just when Ava thought she could make it out of there without another confrontation, Noah spoke again. “I didn’t leave to hurt you.” Her hands froze mid-sort. Her heart pounded. She turned to face him slowly. “Then why did you?” He exhaled, his shoulders tensing. “Because I thought you needed space.” Ava let out a hollow laugh. “Space? My mother had just died, and you thought leaving me alone was the best choice?” His expression darkened. “I didn’t want you to depend on me so much that you couldn’t stand on your own.” Her anger flared. “That wasn’t your choice to make.” Silence stretched between them, heavy and unyielding. Noah’s gaze dropped for a moment before he spoke again, his voice quieter. “Maybe it wasn’t. But I thought I was doing the right thing.” Ava stared at him, searching for any sign that his words were just another excuse. But for the first time in a long time, she saw something real in his eyes. Regret. Guilt. A truth he had buried as deep as she had buried her pain. It didn’t change anything. She grabbed the last brush from the box and turned away. “We’re done here.” Noah didn’t argue. He simply nodded, his expression unreadable once more. Ava walked out of the storeroom without looking back. Because looking back hurt too much.

The rest of the day passed in a blur for Ava. She sat through her remaining classes, only half-listening to the lectures, her thoughts still trapped in that storeroom with Noah. His words echoed in her mind, unrelenting. I didn’t leave to hurt you. I thought I was doing the right thing. She gritted her teeth and shook her head, trying to will away the feelings threatening to surface. She refused to let him get under her skin again. Not after everything. By the time the final bell rang, she had convinced herself she was fine. She shoved her books into her bag and practically sprinted out of the classroom, desperate for fresh air. The hallway was already thinning out as students hurried to leave, but just as she rounded the corner, she collided with a solid figure. “Whoa.” A firm grip steadied her before she could stumble back. Ava’s breath caught as she looked up— and met Noah’s eyes. Of course. She took a step back immediately, breaking his hold. “Watch where you’re going.” Noah raised an eyebrow. “Pretty sure you ran into me.” She huffed, adjusting her bag on her shoulder. “Whatever.” His expression shifted, something unreadable passing through his gaze. “Ava—” “No,” she cut in sharply. “We’re not doing this.” He sighed, running a hand through his dark curls. “We need to talk.” “No, we don’t.” “Yes, we do.” His voice was firm, but not unkind. “You think I don’t notice how much you hate me? How you can’t even stand being in the same room as me?” Her stomach twisted. “Maybe because you left me, Noah. You walked away when I needed you the most.” “I know,” he admitted, surprising her. “And I regret it.” Ava’s breath hitched. It was the last thing she expected him to say. She had spent months building up walls around her pain, telling herself that Noah didn’t care, that he had never cared. But now—he was standing right in front of her, saying the one thing she had needed to hear for so long. She shook her head. “You don’t get to just say that and expect things to be okay.” “I don’t expect that.” His voice was quiet now. “But I wanted you to know.” Ava swallowed hard. The weight of his words pressed against her chest, making it hard to breathe. Part of her wanted to lash out, to throw his regret back in his face. But another part—the part she hated— wanted to believe him. Silence stretched between them, thick with all the things they had left unsaid. Finally, Ava tore her gaze away. “I have to go.” She turned before he could say anything else, forcing herself to walk away, even as her heart screamed at her to stay.

Ava didn’t stop walking until she was off school grounds. Her breath was uneven, her heart pounding for reasons she refused to acknowledge. Noah had always been good at getting under her skin, but today? Today was different. He had regrets. The word twisted in her chest as she crossed the street, heading toward the small bookstore she often escaped to when she needed space. The bell chimed as she pushed the door open, and the familiar scent of old paper and ink wrapped around her like a blanket. “Rough day?” Ava turned to see Mrs. Collins, the elderly shopkeeper, eyeing her from behind the counter. “You could say that.” Ava forced a small smile. Mrs. Collins nodded knowingly. “There’s tea in the back if you need to sit for a while.” Ava hesitated, then gave her a grateful nod before slipping into her usual corner of the store. She ran her fingers over the spines of books, her mind still tangled in Noah’s words. I regret it. I thought I was doing the right thing. Ava sighed, pulling a random book from the shelf and sinking into the worn-out armchair in the corner. She tried to focus on the words in front of her, but the past had a cruel way of creeping in when she least expected it. She had spent months convincing herself that Noah had never cared, that he had left without looking back. But if that were true, why did he look at her like he was carrying the weight of a thousand unsaid apologies? The bell chimed again, and Ava instinctively glanced up—only to feel her stomach drop. Noah stood in the doorway, his sharp blue eyes scanning the room before landing on her. Seriously? Ava tensed, gripping the book in her hands as if it could shield her from whatever this was. He walked toward her, slow and hesitant, like he wasn’t sure if she’d bolt or throw something at him. Both options were tempting. “What are you doing here?” she asked, keeping her voice low. Noah shoved his hands into his pockets. “I figured you’d be here.” She narrowed her eyes. “Are you following me now?” “No.” A pause. “I just…wanted to talk.” Ava exhaled sharply, snapping the book shut. “We already talked, Noah.” “Not really.” His gaze softened, but there was something determined in it, too. “You’re angry. I get it. You should be. But I can’t change what happened.” Her jaw clenched. “Then what do you want from me?” “I don’t know,” he admitted. “I just—I don’t want us to keep doing this.” She hated how his words made something crack inside her. Hated how, despite everything, a part of her wanted to stop hating him. But wanting and forgiving were two very different things. She stood, gripping the book like it was a lifeline. “You don’t get to decide when this stops, Noah. You don’t get to walk away and then come back like nothing happened.” “I’m not asking you to forget,” he said, voice steady. “I’m just asking if we can stop pretending we don’t exist.” Ava swallowed hard. She wanted to tell him no. That she didn’t care. That he could disappear all over again, and it wouldn’t matter. But the words wouldn’t come. Instead, she turned and walked past him, out the door, into the cold evening air. Because if she stayed any longer, she wasn’t sure she’d be able to leave at all.