Wherever You Are
555 Words
Ava sat on the edge of the dock, her bare feet brushing the surface of the water. The sun was low, stretching gold across the horizon. The tide moved slowly. The air smelled like salt, lavender, and summer.
She had come here alone.
Not to run, not to think, just to breathe.
In the last few weeks, life had stopped feeling like survival. She was working full-time at the clinic. Her shifts were long, but the work felt right. She liked helping people. She liked being useful. Her old dream of nursing hadn’t vanished, it had changed. She didn’t need the white coat or the hospital badge. She needed peace.
She pulled her knees to her chest, watching the sky darken. A soft crunch of gravel behind her broke the silence.
She didn’t have to turn to know it was Cole.
He stopped a few feet away.
“I saw your car,” he said.
She stayed quiet.
He stepped closer but didn’t sit. “I shouldn’t have come.”
She looked up, calm. “Then why did you?”
“I needed to say it. Everything I should’ve said earlier. I was scared. I thought I had to be perfect, or not at all.”
Ava stood. “You don’t have to be perfect. But I’m not the girl who would’ve waited anymore.”
His face dropped slightly. “So… that’s it?”
She stepped forward. “No. I care about you. I always will. But I’ve changed. I want different things now. I want to choose myself first.”
Cole nodded slowly, trying to smile. “I guess that’s fair.”
“It is,” she said gently.
They stood in silence. No tears, no yelling. Just quiet honesty.
He took a step back. “I hope you’re happy, Ava.”
“I am,” she said. “And I hope you are too.”
When he walked away, she didn’t chase him. She didn’t fall apart.
She sat back down on the dock. The moon was out now. Her phone buzzed once, Ben again.
You still up for pizza and that terrible movie?
She grinned. This time, her heart felt light when she replied.
Always.
She got up and dusted off her jeans. The wind picked up, brushing her face like a whisper of everything ahead.
She didn’t need closure. She didn’t need guarantees.
She had herself now.
And that was enough.
Ava turned her phone over again. Ben’s name still lit the screen.
You ready to come home?
That’s what the message had said.
She typed, paused, deleted.
Then: What does home mean to you?
The reply came fast.
Wherever you are.
She laughed. Quiet and soft. Then stood.
It wasn’t raining anymore. The sky was streaked with orange and gold. She walked down the steps of her apartment and into the street, her heart lighter than it had been in years.
Ben was already waiting at the corner, hands in his pockets, eyes scanning the sidewalk.
He saw her. Smiled. Walked forward.
When their hands met, it wasn’t a grand gesture. No sudden kiss in the rain. No tears.
Just fingers that fit. Quiet warmth. Steady steps.
And for the first time, Ava didn’t feel like she was chasing love or running from it.
She was simply walking into it.
- Writer
