Not Yours To Control
884 Words
Ava stood frozen in the foyer, heart pounding as the name "Damian" echoed in her ears.
He was here.
She hadn’t heard that name in months—had tried to forget it, bury it deep under the layers of her forced marriage and fractured trust. And yet here he was, rising from the ashes of a life she barely recognized anymore.
The front door swung open before she could steady herself.
And there he stood.
Damian Williams. Tall, smug, and far too confident for someone who had once abandoned her without a word. His designer coat clung to his shoulders like arrogance, and his smirk curled like a hook, digging into old wounds.
“Ava,” he said smoothly, eyes sliding over her. “You look... stunning.”
She felt Jace’s presence behind her like gravity. Cold. Still. Watching.
She didn’t turn to look at him.
“Why are you here?” she asked Damian, her voice quieter than she wanted it to be.
“To take you home,” Damian replied like it was the most natural thing in the world.
She blinked. “This is my home now.”
He stepped into the foyer without permission, without hesitation. “No, Ava. This is a contract. A lie. You don’t belong here—playing house with a man who treats you like a placeholder.”
Jace stepped forward then. “You have two minutes. Make them count.”
His voice was like steel — low, tight, and laced with a warning.
Damian smirked at him, unfazed. “So you’re the great Jace Blackwood. I imagined you'd be taller.”
Jace didn’t blink. “And I imagined Ava’s ex would have more self-respect.”
Damian chuckled. “Touché.”
Ava stepped between them. “Enough.”
Her voice cut the air like a blade. “This isn’t some competition. I’m not a prize.”
Damian’s eyes softened — or pretended to. “I came because I made a mistake, Ava. I shouldn’t have left when things got hard. I thought I was protecting you, but I was just being a coward.”
Ava clenched her fists. “You think showing up now fixes that?”
“No. But I want to make it right.”
Jace let out a cold laugh. “By dragging her name through gossip again?”
Damian ignored him. “Come with me, Ava. We can leave this behind. Start fresh. You and me — no contracts, no pressure. Just us.”
Something in her chest cracked. Part of her — the Ava before the scandal, before the marriage, before the heartbreak — wanted to believe him.
But then she remembered the silence. The way her phone never rang. The way he disappeared when the world turned its back on her.
“You left me,” she said, voice trembling. “When I was at my lowest. You abandoned me like everyone else.”
Damian’s smile fell.
“I waited,” she whispered, tears rising. “I begged the universe to send you back. But you didn’t come. You only show up now — when I’ve started to rebuild.”
“I still love you.”
Her heart stuttered.
Behind her, Jace’s fists clenched. She didn’t need to see him to know it.
“I can give you the life you deserve, Ava,” Damian said. “One that isn’t built on power games and forced affection.”
“She doesn’t need you to give her anything,” Jace snapped, stepping forward. “Ava is building her own life — with or without you.”
“And with you?” Damian challenged. “The same man who treats her like a contract clause?”
Ava turned to Jace then. “He’s right. What are we, Jace?”
His jaw locked.
More silence.
More hurt.
She turned back to Damian. “You don’t know me anymore. You don’t get to act like you do.”
Damian’s eyes flickered. “Then let me try.”
“No,” she said firmly. “You don’t get a second chance just because you showed up. Love isn’t about convenience.”
With one last glance at Jace — whose expression was a storm of something unreadable — Damian gave a tight nod.
“You’ll regret this,” he murmured.
“I already regret loving the wrong person,” she replied.
Damian turned and left.
The silence that followed was suffocating.
Ava turned to Jace. His face was unreadable. Cold. Closed.
“Say something,” she whispered.
“What do you want me to say?” he asked, almost bitter.
“That you care.”
He looked away.
Her chest cracked open a little more. “I’m not your property, Jace. Don’t stand there acting jealous if you’re never going to fight for me.”
“I never asked you to stay.”
“But you’re always angry when I try to leave.”
His voice dropped to a whisper. “Because I don’t want you to go.”
Finally, finally, a sliver of truth.
Her heart ached.
But she still walked past him, up the stairs, wiping silent tears from her cheeks.
She couldn’t break again — not for a man who only admitted he cared when someone else showed up to take her away.
- Writer
