"No, you can't love me, I am too old for you, you deserve better. You deserve more than I can offer." He said as he gently caressed her face, a shadow crossed his face, a hint of something sad and resigned.
The next morning, sunlight streamed across Ava’s face, forcing her eyes open. "Ugh," she moaned, instinctively reaching for her forehead. A dull throb pulsed behind her eyes. She squeezed them shut, trying to ward off the pain, but it was no use. She pried her eyelids open, wincing at the brightness.
Her gaze drifted around the room, landing on a Lucas's picture hung on the wall. Suddenly, memories of the previous night surged back. The alcohol, the laughter, the impulsive words tumbling from her lips. A hot flush crept up her neck. "Oh no," she whispered, burying her face in her hands. "What have I done?" The thought of facing Lucas again twisted in her stomach.
Ava bolted upright, throwing the covers aside. Her bare feet hit the cool floor as she scrambled for her phone on the nightstand. She fumbled with the buttons, her fingers clumsy with a mix of hangover and anxiety. Finally, she managed to dial Helen's number.
"What's up, girlfriend?" Helen's voice chirped through the speaker.
"I did it," Ava blurted out, her voice a mix of excitement and panic. "I told him everything." She paused, then added in a rush, "And now I'm mortified!"
"Wow!" Helen exclaimed. "That's… that's amazing! So, what did he say?"
"Well, he didn't really say anything. And I kind of kissed him," Ava confessed, blushing crimson even though Helen couldn't see her.
"Whoa! You are way much faster than I thought. So what happened next?"
"I don't know, I think I passed out," Ava admitted sheepishly. "I'm so embarrassed now I don't think I can face him anymore."
"Come on, girl, you got this!" Helen said encouragingly. "Just act normal, and I'm really sure he also likes you. He's just probably nervous or something. Maybe he's just shy."
"I hope so girl, I need to go now, talk to you later," Ava said, still feeling a knot of anxiety in her stomach.
"Okay, good luck!" Helen replied.
Ava hung up, took a deep breath, and tried to compose herself. "Okay, I've got this," she muttered to herself. She tiptoed out of her room to Lucas's room, holding her breath. But he was gone. He'd gone to work.
"Oh, thank goodness he's off to work," she sighed in relief. "At least I will have enough time to feel less embarrassed." She decided to do something to take her mind off things. "I know what to do," she thought. "I think I will prepare his favorite dishes and also paint a portrait of him."
After spending the morning cooking Lucas's favorite dinner , roast chicken with all the trimmings . Ava settled down to paint. A secret smile played on her lips as she worked. Hours blurred as she captured the curve of his jaw, the glint in his eyes, the way his hair fell across his forehead. The scent of roasted chicken drifted from the dining room, a distant hum in the background. Finally, she stepped back, admiring her handiwork. "Perfect," she whispered. She’d captured him perfectly.
Suddenly, she heard footsteps in the living room, followed by the sound of someone laughing. "Lucas!" she exclaimed, snatching up the still-wet canvas. Her heart fluttered with anticipation. "He's home!"
She hurried out, her footsteps echoing on the stairs. As she reached the living room, the scene before her stole her breath. Lucas sprawled on the couch, his arm draped around a girl with long, dark hair. They were close, too close, and they were kissing. Ava's smile faltered, a knot tightening in her stomach. It wasn’t just a friendly hug; it was a real, romantic kiss.
The portrait slipped from her grasp, landing with a soft thud on the carpet. Lucas and the girl turned, surprise etched on their faces. Lucas's eyes flickered with something unreadable, a flash of guilt, maybe? He then settled on Ava.
"Hey, Ava," he said, his voice strained and uncomfortable. "Meet my girlfriend, Sophia. Sophia, this is my sister, Ava." He barely looked at Ava as he introduced them.
Sophia, her lips full and glossy, rose gracefully. "Hi, sweetheart! Lucas has told me so much about you." Her smile didn't reach her eyes. It felt fake and forced.
Ava stared, speechless. The room felt too warm, the air thick with unspoken words. She bent to retrieve the portrait, a smear of paint blurring Lucas's face. The beautiful image she’d created was now ruined, a reflection of how she felt inside. "I… I should go," she stammered, her voice barely a whisper. She turned and fled, the image of Lucas and Sophia kissing seared into her mind. Tears welled in her eyes, blurring the already smudged portrait. She clutched it to her chest, the canvas rough against her skin. The betrayal, sharp and unexpected, cut deeper than she could have imagined. She’d poured her heart into that painting, just like she’d poured her heart into her feelings for Lucas. And he’d just dismissed her. Introduced her as his sister. It was humiliating.
She ran to her room, slamming the door behind her. She threw herself onto the bed, the portrait clutched tightly in her arms. The tears started to fall freely now, hot and heavy. She felt like an i***t. How could she have been so wrong about him? How could she have been so stupid? Helen had said he liked her, but Helen was wrong. Clearly, she was very, very wrong.
The smell of the roast chicken, now probably cold and congealed, drifted into her room. She groaned. Even the dinner was ruined. Everything was ruined. She buried her face in her pillow and sobbed. She didn’t know what she was going to do. She felt lost and confused and utterly heartbroken. All she knew was that she never wanted to see Lucas or Sophia again.
"I won't stay in this house anymore," she declared, her voice trembling slightly.
"Just 30 days, Lucas. 30 days and I'll be out of your life for good," she insisted, a flicker of defiance in her eyes. "I just need to repay every penny you've spent on me," she whispered, her voice catching in a sob.