Chapter Twelve
1114 Words
Ava slept lightly beside him, one hand curled beneath the blanket, the other resting near her stomach without thought.
Or perhaps instinct.
Beside her, Ethan’s eyes opened.
A faint vibration broke through the silence.
Once.
Then again.
His gaze shifted toward the nightstand.
The screen lit briefly against the dark.
A name.
Cassandra
His jaw tightened.
Carefully, Ethan reached for the phone, glancing once toward Ava.
Still asleep.
Or so it seemed.
He slipped out of bed.
The bedroom door clicked softly shut behind him.
—
Ava’s eyes opened slowly.
As if she had already been hovering somewhere between sleep and wakefulness.
The room felt different.
Her gaze drifted toward Ethan’s side of the bed.
He wasn’t there.
A small crease formed between her brows.
Then—
A faint voice, beyond the door.
She sat up slowly.
Her chest tightened for reasons she didn’t want to name.
The last time.
The memory returned before she could stop it.
Late night.
Distance.
Half-truths.
That feeling she had ignored because she wanted peace more than suspicion.
Ava slipped from the bed quietly.
The cold floor brushed against her feet as she moved toward the door.
She paused.
Just enough to listen.
His voice was low.
Too low to make out clearly.
Fragments only.
“…tomorrow…”
“…not now…”
Silence.
Then quieter again.
Ava’s fingers tightened slightly around the door handle.
Something unsettled moved inside her.
Not panic.
Not anger.
Something slower.
Heavier.
She stepped back before he could notice.
By the time Ethan returned—
She was sitting upright against the headboard.
The bedside lamp cast soft light across her face.
Ethan paused.
Only briefly.
“You’re awake.”
Ava looked at him.
“I could say the same.”
His expression remained unreadable.
“I had a call.”
“At this hour?”
Her voice stayed calm.
Too calm.
Ethan moved toward the wardrobe.
“Work.”
Ava watched him for a moment.
Something about it felt familiar in a way she disliked.
“You’ve been getting late calls again.”
Not accusatory.
Just… quiet observation.
Ethan glanced at her briefly.
“It’s nothing.”
Ava held his gaze.
“Nothing?”
A beat passed.
Then he sighed softly, already sounding tired of a conversation that hadn’t even started.
“You’re overthinking.”
The words landed softly.
Still sharp.
Ava looked away first.
Maybe because she suddenly felt tired.
Or maybe because arguing required energy she didn’t have.
“I see.”
Silence stretched between them again.
Ethan returned to bed.
A few moments later—
His breathing steadied.
Sleep came easier to him.
Ava noticed that.
She lay awake long after.
Eyes tracing shadows on the ceiling.
Questions moving quietly through her mind.
And somewhere beneath them all—
Fear.
Not loud.
Not dramatic.
Just present.
Persistent.
The kind that settled into corners.
—
Morning came too quickly.
The air between them felt oddly polite.
Like strangers who knew where the cups belonged.
Breakfast was quiet.
Coffee untouched.
Words minimal.
Ava left first.
Work gave her something else to think about.
Or at least pretend to.
—
By afternoon, exhaustion had settled beneath her skin.
She stepped out of the building and immediately spotted Ethan’s car waiting.
He stepped out.
Expression unreadable as ever.
“I’m late,” he said simply.
Ava shook her head.
“No.”
The ride passed quietly.
City lights blurred against the windows.
Neither reached for conversation.
Neither reached for the thing waiting between them.
Eventually—
The Caldwell estate came into view.
A Large and elegant building.
Before they reached the entrance, the front door opened.
“Well.”
Warmth touched the voice before anything else.
“There you are.”
Theodore stood at the doorway.
His face softened immediately when he saw Ava.
“There’s my hardworking girl.”
For the first time all day—
Something in Ava eased.
A small smile found her lips.
“Good afternoon, Grandpa Theodore.”
“You look tired,” he said at once, studying her carefully. “Are they overworking you?”
A quiet laugh escaped her.
“Not too badly.”
“Hm.” His expression suggested disbelief. “You young people think exhaustion is a personality trait.”
Ava smiled despite herself.
Beside her, Ethan gave a brief nod.
“Grandpa.”
“Mm.” Theodore acknowledged him before looking back at Ava. “Come inside. I’ve been waiting.”
—
The sitting room felt warm.
Comfortable in a way the rest of the house rarely managed.
Tea arrived shortly after.
Theodore settled into conversation with ease.
“How’s work?”
“Busy,” Ava admitted. “A little overwhelming recently.”
“You’ve always worked too hard.”
Ava lowered her gaze briefly, smiling.
“And Ethan?” Theodore asked. “Still drowning himself in paperwork?”
Ethan leaned back slightly.
“You make it sound dramatic.”
“It is dramatic,” Theodore replied. “You’ve had the emotional range of office furniture lately.”
Ava nearly laughed.
Nearly.
Ethan exhaled quietly through his nose.
Somewhere between tolerance and amusement.
For a moment—
The tension loosened.
Only slightly.
Then Ethan glanced toward his phone.
“I’ll be back.”
Theodore waved dismissively.
“Don’t disappear.”
Ethan stepped out without explanation.
Ava watched him go for only a second before Theodore spoke again.
“You haven’t been yourself lately.”
Her gaze returned to him.
The warmth in his expression made something ache unexpectedly.
“I’m alright.”
“Mm.”
He looked unconvinced.
But kind enough not to force answers.
Before either could continue—
Footsteps sounded from the hallway.
Very measured and elegant.
Vivian entered first.
Composed as ever.
“Ava.”
Her smile was polished.
Pleasant.
“Good afternoon.”
Ava stood politely.
“Good afternoon.”
Vivian’s eyes moved over her briefly.
Then—
The front door opened again.
Footsteps.
Another voice.
Soft.
Familiar with the house.
A moment later, Ethan returned.
He wasn’t alone.
A woman stepped in beside him.
Beautiful, and effortlessly composed.
Comfortable enough to walk in as though she belonged.
She smiled lightly.
“I hope I’m not interrupting.”
Vivian’s expression shifted immediately.
“Cassandra,” she said warmly. “You came.”
Theodore’s expression dimmed, almost imperceptibly.
Ava blinked once.
Slowly.
Her gaze shifted to Ethan.
Then back to the woman.
Something cold moved quietly through her chest.
Cassandra.
The name lingered.
Familiar in a way she couldn’t explain.
Vivian smiled pleasantly.
“She came to see me.”
But somehow—
The room no longer felt as warm.
And Ava suddenly found herself wondering one thing.
Who exactly was Cassandra?
- Writer
