Ava’s POV
The door closed behind me with a small, hollow click that sounded far too loud for my empty apartment. For a second I just stood there, my hand still on the brass, listening to it ring in my ears. The room smelled like lemon polish and faint vanilla from the candle I’d forgotten to blow out.
Everything was the same , the cushions on the sofa, the stack of unfinished magazines on the coffee table, and nothing felt the same at all.
My legs felt weak. I slid down the door, the cool wood pressing against my back, and dropped to the floor. The black silk of my dress creased where I sat; I hadn’t even taken off my heels. The dress felt heavy, as if it remembered the chandeliers and the long table and all those eyes.
My phone was the first thing I reached for. I wanted it to be sma
