She Was Never The Plan

If heartbreak paid taxes, Ava De Luca would’ve been funding the government. At twenty-three, she’d mastered the art of pretending she didn’t care. Pretending she didn’t notice the lingering stares that always landed on her body before they reached her face. Pretending the whispers didn’t sting. Pretending another failed relationship didn’t leave tiny cracks in a heart that had already been broken too many times. Tonight was simply another addition to the list. She sat across from Daniel in one of the most expensive restaurants in the city, absentmindedly swirling the melting ice in her drink while he spent the last fifteen minutes talking about himself. “…and then my business partner begged me to close the deal because honestly, nobody negotiates like I do.” Ava smiled politely. “Wow.” “I know.” He didn’t even catch the sarcasm. She looked around the restaurant instead. Crystal chandeliers glowed above them, soft piano music drifted through the room, and every table looked like something out of a luxury magazine. Beautiful. Elegant. And somehow… Lonelier than she’d ever felt. “So,” Daniel said suddenly, finally acknowledging her existence, “have you ever considered Ozempic?” She blinked. “I’m sorry?” “I mean, don’t get me wrong.” He lifted his hands quickly. “You’re pretty. Like… really pretty.” There it was. The but. “But…” He smiled as though he were doing her a favor. “If you lost a little weight, you’d actually be unstoppable.” Silence. Ava stared at him for three long seconds. Then she smiled. “That’s funny.” He grinned. “What is?” “I was just thinking the same thing.” His eyebrows lifted. “If you developed a personality, you’d be unforgettable.” She reached for her handbag. “Have a wonderful evening, Daniel.” His face dropped. “Ava, I didn’t mean—” “Oh, I know.” She stood. “That’s what makes it worse.” Without another glance, she walked out of the restaurant. The cool night air greeted her like an old friend. Her driver was already waiting beside the black armored SUV. He opened the back door. “Home, Miss De Luca?” She nodded. The moment the door shut… The smile disappeared. She leaned her forehead against the window as the city lights blurred into streaks of gold. Why did it always end like this? Different man. Different restaurant. Same ending. She wasn’t angry. She was tired. Tired of being someone’s almost. Tired of hearing compliments wrapped in conditions. Tired of wondering if love always came with a checklist she’d never be able to complete. Her phone buzzed. Linda *kiss mark* emoji “Please tell me you didn’t let that boring man survive dessert.” Despite herself, Ava laughed. Ava: Barely. Another message appeared instantly. Aliyat *white heart*: You’re coming to brunch on Saturday. No excuses. Ava smiled as she typed. Ava: Do I have a choice? Linda *kiss mark*: Absolutely not. She shook her head. If there was one thing she could always count on, it was her two best friends refusing to let her disappear into another heartbreak. The De Luca estate stood behind towering black gates, hidden from the rest of the world. To strangers, it looked like a palace. To Ava… It was the only place that had ever felt safe. She stepped inside, slipping off her heels. The mansion was unusually quiet. “You’re late.” Her father’s deep voice echoed through the hallway. She turned. Massimo De Luca stood at the foot of the grand staircase in a tailored black suit, looking every bit like the man whose name commanded fear across continents. His sharp eyes rested on her face for only a second. Long enough to notice the smudged mascara she’d forgotten to wipe away. He didn’t ask what happened. He didn’t need to. Instead, he looked toward one of the staff. “Tell the kitchen to make her favorite.” “Yes, sir.” Ava smiled faintly. “You don’t have to.” “I know.” His voice softened. “I want to.” For a brief moment, neither of them spoke. There had been a time when this house echoed with two daughters laughing. Now… Only one remained. Some silences never learned how to heal. As Ava climbed the staircase, she paused outside a closed bedroom door. No one entered that room anymore. Not her. Not her father. Not the staff. Her fingers hovered over the doorknob before she pulled them back. “Goodnight,” she whispered to the silence. Then she walked away. Behind the locked door, time had never moved on.