Ava Burgess POV:
I gazed out the window of my office, not seeing the bustling city below, but a memory. A self-deprecating smile touched my lips, thin and bitter. I remembered the way Bryant used to look at me, with that same unwavering intensity.
He had pursued me for what felt like an eternity back in college. For years, he was a constant presence, a shadow I couldn' t shake.
"Why me?" I'd asked him one day, genuinely puzzled. His response had been immediate, accompanied by that goofy, endearing grin that used to melt my resolve.
"You're the most beautiful woman I've ever seen, Ava Burgess."
I never liked foolish men, but his sincerity, his sheer persistence, had worn down my resistance. I hadn't made it easy for him, not by a long shot. I knew my worth, even then.
But he didn't care. He waited. Patiently.
Rain or shine, he'd be at my dorm with breakfast, a hot coffee in one hand, a perfectly toasted bagel in the other. He knew my cycle, the exact dates, better than I did. Before I even felt the first cramp, he' d have a mug of ginger tea and a painkiller waiting for me.
I once glanced at an antique silver locket in a shop window. Just a fleeting look. Days later, he presented it to me, having worked extra shifts at two different part-time jobs to afford it.
When I was upset, even a slight frown would send him into a frenzy. He' d rack his brain, telling the most ridiculous jokes until a reluctant smile finally broke through my defenses.
He' d notice the smallest things. A slight furrow in my brow, a flicker of worry in my eyes. "Is everything okay, Ava? Are you feeling unwell?" he'd ask, his voice laced with genuine concern. His love, back then, felt like a warm, protective blanket, shielding me from the harsh realities of the world. It felt real. It felt like everything.
