Ava Bell POV:
Carter' s phone rang again, a jarring buzz in the quiet, sterile office. He glanced at the caller ID, his brow furrowing slightly, a flicker of irritation crossing his face. It was Davian Ortega, his law partner and friend.
"Davian," Carter answered, his voice clipped.
"Carter, have you heard from Ava?" Davian's voice, usually calm and measured, was laced with genuine concern. "She missed her appointment at the clinic. And she's not answering her phone. I'm worried."
Carter exhaled slowly, a sound of profound annoyance. "Ava? What appointment are you talking about? And why are you 'worried'? She's probably just off on one of her self-pitying tangents."
"The cardiac clinic, Carter," Davian said, his voice sharper now. "The one for her heart condition. She was supposed to have a follow-up. You knew about this, right? She told you she had a severe heart condition."
He told you, Carter. I told you. Over and over.
"Heart condition?" Carter scoffed, a harsh, disbelieving sound. "Please, Davian. She probably made it all up to avoid donating to Cecelia. You know how manipulative Ava can be. Always trying to get attention."
"That's not fair, Carter," Davian countered, his voice firm. "Ava isn't like that. And even if you think she is, she's been unreachable for days. Something feels wrong. You've changed, man. You really have."
"Don't you dare question me, Davian," Carter growled, his voice dropping to a dangerous whisper. "My fiancée is fighting for her life, and Ava is just being her usual, dramatic self. If you're going to side with her, then maybe you should reconsider whose side you're on." He paused, his voice softening with feigned sincerity. "Cecelia needs me, Davian. I love her."
He loves her. He always loved her. And I was just the girl who loved him. The words echoed in the hollow space where my heart had been.
Carter hung up abruptly, slamming his phone onto the desk. He ran a hand through his hair, his face flushed with anger.
"Unbelievable," he muttered, pacing the office. "The nerve. Davian, of all people."
A junior associate, a nervous young man named Mark, looked up from his computer. "Everything alright, Mr. Rios?"
Carter stopped, forcing a semblance of calm. "Just Ava, creating drama as usual. Davian thinks she's missing. Probably just looking for attention." He waved a dismissive hand. "She'll turn up eventually, looking for sympathy."
Mark nodded, though a faint frown creased his brow.
"You know, Carter," Miller, the detective, said, leaning against the doorframe. He had just walked in, having heard the tail end of the conversation. "You need to be careful. People sometimes forget what's real when they're too close to a situation."
Miller' s words were meant as a warning, a subtle nudge, but Carter just bristled.
I remembered Carter's wedding day. He had looked so happy, so radiant, standing beside Cecelia. I had watched from the back, a silent observer, my heart both soaring and shattering for him. I wanted his happiness, even if it wasn't with me.
Then, the first social event after their wedding. A gala, glittering with the city's elite. Carter insisted I come. "You're family, Ava. You need to be seen."
I felt like a fish out of water, my simple dress lost amidst the designer gowns. My hands trembled as I held a champagne flute. I was nervous, intimidated by the opulence.
Cecelia, draped in silk and diamonds, glided over to me, a predatory smile on her lips. "Look at you, Ava," she purred, her voice carrying just enough for those nearby to hear. "Still clinging to Carter's coattails, are we? Trying to make an impression? You look utterly out of place."
My face burned. I wanted to disappear.
"Cecelia, don't," Carter said, his voice low, but he didn't intervene. He just watched, his expression unreadable.
"She's right," I whispered, my voice barely audible. "I don't belong here."
"Then leave!" Cecelia hissed, her eyes glinting with malice. "Go back to your little studio and hide. You're embarrassing Carter."
I turned and fled, tears blurring my vision. Carter didn't stop me. He watched me go, and then turned back to Cecelia, his hand resting on her back reassuringly.
That was the night I knew. Truly knew. My place with Carter was gone. It had never really existed.
