Ava’s fingers trembled as she dialed Liam’s number, the phone pressed tightly to her ear. The studio walls seemed to close in around her, the vibrant colors of her paintings now feeling like a mockery of the chaos unraveling inside her. The line rang once, twice—her pulse quickened with each unanswered beat—before Liam’s voice cut through, sharp and impatient.
“Ava.”
His tone sent a jolt through her, but she forced herself to speak, her voice steady despite the storm inside her. “We need to talk. Now.”
A silence stretched between them, heavy with unspoken tension. Then, “Where are you?”
“The studio.” She didn’t wait for his response before ending the call, her fingers gripping the edge of the worktable. She needed to see his face when she told him. Needed to gauge his reaction when she
