Chapter two
1170 Words
The stillness in Ava’s flat was a welcome respite from city noise and the weightiness of that encounter with Jaxon.
She stood by the window with her arms crossed, looking out at the skyline she used to find inspirational. Now it just reminded her of him. Of that night. Of the man who’d looked at her like she was everything, only to call it a mistake three months later.
She didn’t cry. Not this time.
She just let numbness overwhelm her.
You’re very good at your work. Let’s focus on that.
Jaxon Black, king of casual cruelty.
Ava turned away from the window, grabbed her laptop, and opened the project folder. If he wanted professionalism, fine. She’d be the definition of it. She didn’t need to be loved. She needed to land this campaign and lock in that promotion.
The sooner she made her mark in this city, the easier it would be to forget him.
Work was busier than ever. Ava poured herself into it—late nights, double shifts, spreadsheets, copy decks. Her boss, Helena, noticed the shift.
“Ava, you’ve been on a roll lately,” she told her, peering at her over the rim of her coffee cup one day. “Something on your mind?”
Ava smiled faintly. “Just focusing on doing good work
“That is good. Don’t burn out.” Helena paused. “Jaxon Black isn’t the easiest client, but he listens to you. That’s rare.”
Ava didn’t respond. She couldn’t afford to let anything show on her face.
“He’s requested you directly for the upcoming brand review meeting,” Helena added. “Be ready Monday.”
“Of course.”
She smiled until her boss left the room, then let it drop.
He listens to you.
That was the problem. He listened. He remembered. But none of it mattered.
By Friday evening, Ava needed some fresh air. She let her best friend, Cassie, drag her out to a local art exhibit —wine glass in her hand, gentle tunes, overhyped paintings.
Cassie edged forward as they passed by a painting with vacant-looking eyes. “So, are we going to discuss it?
Ava’s brow went up. “Discuss what?”
“The fact that you’ve been working like a machine and pretending your heart wasn’t stomped on by a six-foot-tall billionaire with intimacy issues.”
Ava exhaled. “There’s nothing to discuss.”
Cassie raised an eyebrow at her. “You told me you felt something that night.”
“I did.”
“And now?”
Ava sipped her wine. “Now I’m putting it behind me.”
“You believe that?”
She didn’t answer.
Cassie nudged her. “Okay. How about this—let me set you up. Coffee. Just one. No pressure.”
Ava hesitated. “Cass—”
“Slow burn, remember?” Cassie grinned. “You don’t have to date him. You just have to live a little.”
Ava didn’t say yes. But she didn’t say no either.
The guy Cassie set her up with was nice. Nice. Tall, soft-spoken, kind eyes. A tech startup founder named Reed, who listened when she spoke and didn’t look at his phone once.
They met for coffee the following Sunday.
“Cassie has told me a lot about you,” he smiled, drinking his espresso. “Cassie’s not an easy sell. When she likes someone, that’s serious business.” If she likes someone, that’s a big deal.”
“She oversells,” Ava replied with a small smile.
“I doubt that.”
The conversation flowed easily. He didn’t pressure her. Didn’t bring up past relationships. He told her about his work, how he started with nothing but a coding class and a bad laptop.
When they were leaving the coffee shop, he didn’t try to kiss her; he just brushed her arm softly and said gently, “I’d like to see you again.”
And for what felt like the first time in years, Ava no longer felt like her heart was still there with someone else.
Monday came faster than she wanted.
Ava arrived at the office early, files in hand, hair pulled back, and navy suit pressed sharp enough to cut. She didn’t want to look good for him. She wanted to look untouchable.
Jaxon arrived five minutes late, as always. Impeccable. Distant. He gave her a brief nod and sat across from her at the glass conference table.
They reviewed branding strategy, campaign timelines, and PR angles. Every word she spoke was measured. She didn’t fumble once.
But halfway through the meeting, she caught him staring.
Not obviously. Not enough for anyone else to notice. But his gaze lingered too long on her mouth when she spoke. Traveled to the place where her collarbone met her skin.
And when their fingers brushed as she handed him a file, she saw something flicker behind his eyes.
Regret.
He looked away quickly. “Everything seems in order.”
She nodded. “We’ll adjust the copy to fit the new specs and send a revised deck by Thursday.”
He stood. “Good.”
That was it.
No apology. No explanation. Just the same unreadable mask he always wore.
Still, she didn’t chase him.
She had her own life to live now.
Two weeks passed.
Ava went on two more coffee dates with Reed. He was respectful. Funny, in a low-key kind of way. He asked about her work, remembered things she said, and sent texts that didn’t make her anxious.
But every time he leaned in, every time his hand brushed hers, her mind flickered back to Jaxon’s touch. His voice. His mouth.
She hated it.
She hated that she remembered the way he’d looked at her like she was the only real thing in a room full of luxury.
She hated that she still wondered what made him walk away.
It wasn’t until the charity gala that things cracked.
Ava was there on behalf of her agency, representing their growing partnership with Blackstone Holdings. She wore a sleek black gown, hair swept up, lips painted in calm defiance.
She didn’t expect Jaxon to be there. But of course, he was. Hosting the damn thing.
When he spotted her across the ballroom, he froze.
For a moment, she let him look.
Then she turned and smiled at Reed, who had joined her that evening as her plus-one.
Jaxon’s jaw tightened.
He didn’t approach her until hours later, when Reed had stepped away to take a call.
“You look...” he paused, eyes flicking over her. “Different.”
“I moved on,” she said simply.
A beat passed. “He’s not for you.”
She looked him straight in the eye. “You lost the right to say that.”
He swallowed hard. “Ava—”
She didn’t wait for the rest.
She walked away.
Not because she didn’t want to hear it, but because this time, she was choosing herself.
- Writer
