Late night texts
863 Words
Chapter Three grok version
The sound of her phone ringing dragged Ava out of a restless sleep.
She groaned into her pillow and reached blindly for the nightstand, nearly knocking over her water bottle. Squinting at the screen, she saw her mom’s name and felt some of the irritation melt away.
“Hi, Mom,” she answered, voice still thick with sleep.
“Well, good morning to you too,” her mother said warmly. “You sound like you got run over by a truck.”
“I probably did. Metaphorically.”
“That roommate of yours again?”
Ava let out a tired laugh and rolled onto her back. “I really need to stop telling you everything.”
“Oh please. I carried you for nine months. I can hear exhaustion in your breathing from three cities away.”
“That’s terrifying.”
“Mhm. Did you get any sleep at all?”
“Eventually.”
Her mother hummed sympathetically. Ava could picture her perfectly ,sitting at the kitchen table with coffee in hand, reading glasses sliding down her nose, sunlight pouring through the windows.
God, she missed home sometimes.
“You working this morning?” her mom asked.
“In an hour.”
“I won’t keep you long then.” A short pause. “Actually… maybe I will.”
Ava narrowed her eyes. “That tone never leads anywhere good.”
Her mother laughed softly. “So remember my friend Lydia from knitting class?”
“Oh no.”
“What do you mean, ‘oh no’?”
“It’s starting already.”
“It is not starting already,” her mom defended. “I’m simply saying her son recently moved back to the city and,
“Mom.”
“He’s very handsome.”
“Mom.”
“And respectful, which is rare these days.”
Ava buried her face in the pillow. “You don’t even know him.”
“Lydia knows him.”
“That’s his mother.”
“And? I know you. Mothers are excellent judges.”
A laugh slipped out before Ava could stop it.
Her mother’s voice softened. “Honey, it’s just dinner. You don’t have to marry the man.”
Ava stared at the ceiling, the teasing fading from her tone. “I know… I just don’t think I’m there yet.”
The line went quiet.
“The last relationship took a lot out of me,” she admitted quietly. “Even though it’s been months, I still feel like I’m trying to put myself back together.”
“Oh, sweetheart,” her mom said, voice impossibly gentle.
Ava closed her eyes.
“You don’t have to explain it to me. Healing slowly is normal. Your generation acts like everything should be fixed in two weeks.”
That pulled a faint smile from Ava.
“You gave a lot to someone who didn’t deserve it,” her mom continued. “Of course it takes time to feel steady again.”
Emotion pressed against Ava’s chest. Sometimes her mother understood her too well.
“So no more surprise setups?” Ava asked.
“Absolutely not,” her mom replied. “I’ll tell Lydia her son tragically missed his chance.”
Ava laughed softly.
“There’s my girl,” her mother said warmly. “I just want you happy, Ava. That’s all.”
“I know.”
“And eating properly.”
“Mom.”
“You forget sometimes.”
“I had pasta yesterday.”
“At what time?”
Ava paused. “…That’s not important.”
“Mhm. Exactly.”
By the time the call ended, Ava felt lighter ,still tired, still a little raw, but lighter.
She stayed in bed for another minute before forcing herself up. Soft music played while she got ready: hot shower, careful skincare routine, and a quiet internal debate over sweaters before choosing the softest one.
Outside, the sky was grey and heavy with the threat of rain.
Perfect coffee weather.
She left the apartment with music filling the car and a takeaway cup in the holder. The drive to work felt calm.
Until her brain betrayed her again.
Those intense eyes. The way he stared at her like nothing else in the room existed. The quiet, commanding presence that made her stomach tighten even now.
Ava groaned, gripping the steering wheel tighter. “This is embarrassing,” she muttered to herself.
She knew almost nothing about him. Only that he was unfairly beautiful, dangerously quiet, and intense enough to make simple eye contact feel like a threat.
It should be illegal before nine in the morning.
The café was already warm and inviting when she arrived, wrapped in the comforting scents of espresso and cinnamon. Mia looked up from behind the counter with a mischievous grin.
“You look emotionally stable today.”
“Don’t ruin it.”
“Too late. Your boyfriend might come back.”
Ava nearly walked straight into the pastry display.
“He is not my boyfriend.”
“You blushed before I even finished the sentence.”
“I hate you.”
“No, you don’t.”
Unfortunately, Mia was right.
- Writer
