CHAPTER 2:SHATTERED DRIVE
1324 Words
Ava's Pov
I reversed out of Ryan's driveway so fast the tires kicked up gravel, the desperate sound of his shouts soon started fading into the distance like a bad dream I had refused to acknowledge.
My hands stayed steady on the wheel at first and that strange icy calm was still wrapped around me like armor.
Alone with nothing but the hum of the engine and the stupid red gift bag rolling around at my feet, the weight of what I had seen crashed down on me.
My vision was blurry. I gripped the wheel tighter, but it wasn’t enough.
I spotted an empty gas station parking lot just outside town, I swerved in sharply and killed the engine.
The sudden silence was deafening.
Breaking down completely.
I slumped forward over the steering wheel, sobs tearing out of me in violent, silent waves.
There was no screaming, just choking cries that stole my breath until my chest burned and my lungs begged for air.
Tears streamed down my face, soaking the front of my shirt, and I didn’t even try to stop them.
My whole body shook as I gasped, the kind of ugly, heaving cries that left me dizzy.
Why them?
Why like this?
On his birthday, of all days?
I questioned myself endlessly, each one carving deeper into the fresh wound.
I remembered our first date so clearly it hurt like a fresh slap.
Ryan had shown up at my apartment door with those cheap daisies from the corner store, looking nervous and boyish in a button-down that was slightly too big for him.
“I didn’t know what flowers you liked,” he had admitted with that crooked smile that always made my knees weak.
We had ended up at a hole-in-the-wall Italian place, laughing over burnt garlic bread and splitting one tiramisu because neither of us could afford two desserts.
He would walk me home under the flickering streetlights, kiss me so gently I felt it in my toes, and whispered, “I think I’m going to fall for you, Ava. Hard.”
I believed him. God, I believed every single word, replaying that night in my head for weeks afterward like a lovesick teenager.
And Lila… my best friend, my ride-or-die, the one who knew every secret and insecurity I had.
She had been the one helping him pick out the engagement ring months ago.
I could still hear her excited voice from that “retail therapy” day she had dragged me to the mall while secretly texting Marcus photos of different settings behind my back.
“This one’s perfect for you, Ava,” she said later that evening, holding up her own finger like it was all a big joke as we toasted with cheap wine on my couch.
We giggled like schoolgirls, planning my future wedding, venue ideas, color schemes, even the honeymoon.
All the while she was already sleeping with him. Destroying everything .
Every single happy memory was poisoned now, twisted into something ugly and unrecognizable.
Movie nights where she had accidentally” fallen asleep on his shoulder while I made popcorn in the kitchen.
The weekend getaways where they both bailed on group plans at the last minute with flimsy excuses. The inside jokes they shared that I had chalked up to being close friends. The way their bodies had moved together in that bedroom, like it was familiar, practiced.
How long had I been the fool in my own story?
How many times had they laughed at me behind my back?
The tears kept coming until I had nothing left.
My throat was raw, my eyes swollen. I sat there in the dimming light of the parking lot for what felt like hours, staring at the cracked dashboard, feeling utterly hollow.
Finally, with shaking fingers, I grabbed my phone and immediately blocked both their numbers.
Ryan
Lila.
Gone.
No more frantic calls, no more fake apologies flooding in.
The relief was fleeting, swallowed quickly by exhaustion that settled deep into my bones.
I drove the rest of the way home on autopilot, arriving well after dark.
My apartment felt colder than usual, emptier.
I collapsed onto the couch without bothering to even change, the weight of heartbreak pressing me down like a physical force.
Sleep came immediately, followed by haunted thoughts of them together.
The next morning came too soon, dragging me back to reality with a pounding headache and swollen eyes. I dragged myself out of bed, forcing a quick shower that did nothing to wash away the numbness.
Coffee tasted like ash.
As I scrambled for work clothes, my phone pinged with a notification from my homeowner. It was a reminder that rent was due in three days, and there would be a steep late fee if not paid on time.
As if my world hadn’t already imploded.
Bills were piling up, my savings were thin after buying that stupid watch, and now I had no support system left.
No Ryan to vent to, no Lila to crash with for a girls’ night.
The anger surged hot and suddenly. I slammed the cabinet door so hard , my mood successfully ruined, as I headed into the office.
Work was a complete disaster.
One time i had napped at my coworker Sarah over a minor filing error, something I would normally laugh off.
“Just get it right next time,” I bit out, louder than necessary.
I knew I overreacted
I missed a deadline Normally nail with my eyes closed, and during lunch, I nearly broke down again in the bathroom stall, staring at my reflection like a stranger.
My boss pulled me aside in the afternoon, his brow furrowed.
“Everything okay, Ava? You seem off today.” I mumbled something about a bad headache and powered through, but inside I was unraveling.
By the time five o’clock hit, I was done. Completely, utterly done.
I needed to forget,.for just a few hours.
Back at my apartment, I changed into a tight black dress I hadn’t worn in months, one that hugged my curves and made me feel powerful, even if it was a lie.
I headed to The Velvet Room, the club downtown where the music was loud enough to drown out thoughts and the drinks were strong.
The bass thumped through my body as I downed my second vodka soda at the bar, the alcohol finally dulling the sharp edges of the last two days.
For a moment, I let myself breathe. I moved to the dance floor, losing myself in the crowd, the flashing lights blurring everything into a haze.
But then I felt eyes on me.
Two guys slid up on either side, their smiles too wide, breath heavy with whiskey and entitlement.
The taller one leaned in close, his hand brushing my waist without invitation, fingers lingering too long. “Hey beautiful, you here all alone? Looks like you could use some company tonight.”
The other one laughed, crowding me against the bar, his body pressing in from the other side. “Yeah, don’t be shy. We know how to make a girl forget her troubles. Buy you another drink?”
My skin crawled.
I tried to step back, but they pressed closer, the crowd and music making it hard to escape.
One of them grabbed my arm a little too tightly, his grip firm and insistent. “Come on, sweetheart. Let’s take this somewhere more private. My place isn’t far.”
The club lights flashed around us, the music swallowing my protest.
No one seemed to even notice. My heart raced for all the wrong reasons now. This night was supposed to numb the pain, not add to it.
Panic mixed with the alcohol in my veins as the taller one leaned in closer, his breath hot against my ear.
“What do you say, gorgeous? Don’t make us beg.”
- Writer
