Chapter 4: The First Night Apart
992 Words
Ava’s POV
Lisa’s couch creaks as I shift under the thin blanket. The apartment is dark except for the glow of my phone screen.
1:17 AM.
Sophie sleeps soundly in Lisa’s bed, exhausted from the excitement of a "sleepover." But I can’t close my eyes without seeing Daniel’s face at the diner—the way his voice cracked when he said You can’t just disappear.
My thumb hovers over his contact. Part of me wants to call. Part of me wants to hear him say Come home one more time, just to see if it still sounds like a promise or a prison.
I lock my phone instead.
The refrigerator hums in the kitchen. A car alarm wails somewhere in the distance. Normal sounds. But nothing feels normal.
I roll onto my side, pressing my face into the pillow. It smells like Lisa’s lavender detergent. Not like our laundry detergent at home.
Home.
The word doesn’t fit anymore.
Daniel’s POV
The bed is too big.
I stretch out my arm, fingertips brushing cold sheets where Ava should be. The silence is suffocating.
I grab my phone off the nightstand. No new messages. No missed calls.
I open my texts with Ava. Our last exchange was two days ago—a mundane conversation about Sophie’s dentist appointment. Nothing hinting at this. Nothing that warned me she was planning to leave.
Were there signs?
I scroll back through months of messages. So many of my texts are demands wrapped in casual words: Did you call the plumber? You forgot to pick up my dry cleaning. Sophie needs her permission slip signed.
How many times did I ask how she was?
I toss my phone aside. It clatters against the wood floor.
The ceiling fan spins lazily above me. I count the rotations until my eyes burn.
Ava’s POV
"Rough night?"
Lisa stands in the kitchen doorway, holding two mugs of coffee. I blink up at her from the couch, my mouth dry, my head throbbing.
I sit up slowly. "Did I wake you?"
She hands me a mug. "You were talking in your sleep."
My stomach twists. "What did I say?"
"Just one word." Lisa sits beside me. "Enough."
The coffee is too hot. It scalds my tongue, but I welcome the pain. Something real. Something tangible.
Lisa watches me carefully. "What now?"
I stare into the dark liquid. "I need to find an apartment."
"And Daniel?"
The name hangs between us.
"I don’t know," I whisper.
Daniel’s POV
The office is too bright.
I rub my temples, trying to focus on the contract in front of me. The words swim on the page.
"Daniel?" My assistant, Rachel, hovers in the doorway. "Your 10:30 is here."
I glance at the clock. I’ve been staring at the same paragraph for twenty minutes.
"Reschedule it."
Her eyebrows lift. "It’s the Thompson account."
"I don’t care." The words come out harsher than I intended.
Rachel hesitates. "Is everything okay?"
No. My wife left me. My daughter is gone. I don’t know how to fix this.
"Just reschedule it," I mutter.
She nods and backs out of the office, closing the door softly behind her.
I pull up Zillow on my computer. Search for apartments near Lisa’s place.
If Ava won’t come home, maybe I can get closer.
Ava’s POV
The flower shop smells like damp soil and roses.
"First day," Marlene, the owner, says with a warm smile. She’s in her sixties, with silver-streaked hair and dirt under her nails. "Don’t worry, I’ll go easy on you."
I knot the green apron around my waist. "I’m a fast learner."
She hands me a pair of clippers. "Let’s start with stripping the thorns off these roses."
The work is methodical. Hold the stem. Slide the clippers down. Remove the sharp points.
Over and over.
My hands move automatically, but my mind wanders. Daniel hated roses—said they were too cliché. I stopped buying them years ago.
Marlene watches me work. "You’ve got a good touch."
I look down at the rose in my hand. A drop of blood wells on my thumb where a thorn nicked me.
"Thanks," I say softly.
Daniel’s POV
The lawyer’s office is all polished wood and leather.
"Standard procedure," Matthews says, sliding a packet of papers across the desk. "Temporary custody agreement, child support calculations, division of—"
"I don’t want to divorce her."
Matthews pauses. "Daniel, she left."
Because of me.
I push the papers back. "Not yet."
He sighs. "At least file for temporary custody. Protect your rights."
I think of Sophie’s laugh at the diner. The way she hugged me without hesitation.
"Fine," I mutter.
I sign where he tells me to. The pen feels heavy in my hand.
When I walk out, the sky is too blue. The sun too bright.
I text Ava: Can I see Sophie tonight?
Three dots appear. Disappear. Reappear.
Finally, a response: Pick her up at Lisa’s at 5.
No please. No thank you.
Just business.
Ava’s POV
Sophie spins in circles in Lisa’s living room, her backpack bouncing. "Daddy’s taking me for pizza!"
I force a smile. "I know, baby."
The doorbell rings. My stomach lurches.
Lisa answers it. I hear Daniel’s low voice in the hallway.
Sophie bolts past me. "Daddy!"
I follow slowly. Daniel crouches to hug her, his eyes closing briefly as he buries his face in her hair. When he stands, his gaze meets mine over her head.
"Hey," he says quietly.
"Hey."
We stare at each other. There’s so much to say. But not here. Not now.
Sophie tugs his hand. "Can we get extra cheese?"
Daniel smiles down at her. "Whatever you want, kiddo."
He looks at me one last time before they leave. The door clicks shut behind them.
The apartment feels hollow.
Lisa touches my shoulder. "You okay?"
I take a shaky breath. "I will be."
But the words taste like a lie.
- Writer
