Chapter 4
Ava’s soft, pained voice cut through the moment. “William, it hurts so much…”
He hesitated, torn between helping her and the fact that I was standing right there. His face twisted into an uncomfortable mix of guilt and indecision.
I broke the silence first. “If it’s that bad, you should take her to a hospital. You wouldn’t want it to turn into something serious.”
My words caught him off guard. He hadn’t expected me to be so calm, so understand
Added to the library
William’s eyes softened as he reached for my hand. “I’ll take her to the clinic nearby and then come back for you. Wait for me at the
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entrance, okay?”
“Sure,” I replied, my tone casual.
He studied me for a moment, as though searching for signs of anger or reproach, but I gave him nothing. Finally, he let go of my hand, scooped Ava up in his arms, and walked off.
I didn’t wait. This time, I wasn’t going to play the fool.
As I left, my phone buzzed with a call from a junior colleague at the lab.
“Miss Victoria, there’s an issue with one of the experiments. We can’t figure out what’s causing it. Could you come take a look?”
Without hesitation, I made my way there.
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Time slipped away as we worked through the problem, and by the time we fixed the error, the first light of dawn was breaking through the windows.
The younger researchers showered me with praise. “Miss Victoria, you’re a genius!”
They were reluctant to let me go. “Miss Victoria, are you really leaving for that classified research project?”
I nodded. “Yeah.”
“But what about your wedding?” one of them asked, clearly hesitant. “Are you sure you’re okay with leaving?”
I paused, then smiled softly. “The country’s work is more important.”
What I didn’t say, what I couldn’t say, was
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that for William, whether I stayed or left didn’t seem to matter anymore.
This world keeps spinning, with or without
- me.
When I finally dragged my exhausted body home, I opened the door to find her again.
Ava Johnson.
She was wearing one of William’s shirts, her bare legs peeking out as she emerged from the master bedroom.
When she saw me, she didn’t even flinch.
“Don’t misunderstand, Victoria,” she said casually. “After the clinic, it was really late. I didn’t want to go home with my parents out of town. William was just being considerate -he didn’t want me to be alone while I’m
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injured.”
Before I could respond, William stepped out of the bathroom, his hair still damp from a shower. When he saw me, probably anticipating my reaction, his brows furrowed in resignation.
“Victoria,” he sighed, “I don’t want to argue with you first thing in the morning”
“She’s coming to work with me today,” he continued, “and she didn’t have anything to wear, so I lent her one of my shirts…”
“It’s fine, I interrupted, cutting him off before he could say more.
Both William and Ava froze, caught off guard by the calmness in my voice.
William’s eyes widened in disbelief, as
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though he couldn’t quite process my composed response.
Quickly, he began to explain, “She slept in the guest room last night, his words tumbling out, as if trying to shield himself from any accusations. “Don’t read too much into it.”
I cut him off, my voice steady but firm.
“I’m not overthinking anything. You two grew up together. She’s always been like a sister to you. You even said yourself that the guest room is basically hers–that she doesn’t need my permission to visit. I remember that.”
William faltered, his posture slackening as the fight drained from him. When he spoke again, his voice softened, tinged with a rare vulnerability.
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“I’m glad you can see it that way. I really want you and Ava to get along.”
Before I could respond, the doorbell rang. It was the courier I had scheduled.
William’s gaze fell on the piles of boxes! had neatly packed and stacked in the living room. His face darkened as he walked toward them, his steps deliberate and heavy.
“Victoria, what is this?” he asked, his voice tight with disbelief. “You don’t want any of the things I gave you?”
I opened my mouth to reply, but before I could speak, he reached into one of the boxes and pulled out a small music box. Inside, a delicate figurine of a bride spun slowly beneath a glass dome.
His hand trembled as he held it up, his eyes
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brimming with something unsaid.
“You’re throwing this away too?” he whispered, his voice barely audible.
I stared at the music box, the memories rushing back–of a time when we had nothing. He couldn’t afford a diamond ring or a grand gesture, but he had given me that little box, with a promise: “One day, I’ll make you my bride.”
I had believed him. But reality had delivered a cold, harsh slap.
Love can’t survive when there’s too much clutter–when there are too many people in the equation.
And I couldn’t stay in this anymore.
