LOGINTime did not move the way it usually did. It stretched and folded into itself. Ava stood in the hallway, her back close to the wall, her fingers still wrapped tightly around her phone. She hadn’t realized how hard she was gripping it until the edges began to press into her skin, a dull ache settling into her palm. Inside the room, the quiet had deepened. No more voices, just the faint rustle of movement. Ava’s chest rose slowly, unevenly. The air didn’t seem to settle properly in her lungs. Each breath felt shallow, like something inside her had forgotten how to do it fully. She swallowed. Her throat tightened in response. Then she heard footsteps approaching. Her body reacted before her mind could catch up. She pushed herself off the wall, her spine straightening, her face smoothing into something she didn’t recognize but knew she needed. Her hand dropped to her side, her grip loosening just enough. By the time the door opened, she was moving. Just enough to make it look
Morning came in slowly, the light slipping through the curtains in thin, quiet lines that stretched across the bed and settled against Matthew’s face. Ava stirred first. The habit had long settled into her bones—waking before him, easing into the day without noise, without disruption. But this time, something felt… off. He hadn’t moved. She turned her head slightly, her gaze settling on him. His arm lay heavy across the sheet, his breathing steady but deeper than usual, like he had sunk too far into sleep. “Matthew…” Her voice came soft, careful not to startle. No response. She shifted closer, her hand lifting to touch his shoulder, fingers pressing lightly. “Matthew,” she said again, a little firmer this time. He stirred then, a faint groan slipping past his lips as his brows pulled together. “Hm?” Ava watched his face as his eyes blinked open, slow, unfocused at first, then settling on her. “You’re still sleeping,” she said quietly. “Aren’t you going to work?” He exhale
Matthew didn’t move immediately. The word he had shouted still seemed to hang somewhere between him and the silence that followed, echoing faintly in the back of his head. On the other end, Sophie didn’t rush to fill it. When he finally spoke again, his voice had dropped—lower, tighter, like he was forcing each word through something thick. “Spending every weekend with you is not possible.” A faint shift came through the line. Fabric, maybe. Or the sound of her adjusting her position, settling in deeper. “Is that so?” “Yes,” he said, sharper now. “Where exactly am I supposed to tell Ava I’m going every weekend?” Silence stretched. “And fifty thousand dollars every week?” he continued, pacing now, each step measured but restless. “That’s outrageous, Sophie. Where do you expect me to get that kind of money from?” A soft exhale came from her end. Unbothered. “That’s not my business.” Matthew stopped mid-step, his grip tightening around the phone. “What do you mean it’s not
The door had barely stopped vibrating on its hinges when the quiet settled in. It didn’t feel like silence. It felt like something had been ripped open and left there—raw, exposed, humming faintly beneath everything. Matthew stayed where he was for a moment, his palm still pressed against the table, fingers spread like he needed the resistance. The sting from the impact lingered, dull and grounding. Across the room, the space Isabella had occupied felt… disturbed. Like the air hadn’t decided what to do with itself yet. He dragged in a breath and held it. He let it out slowly. Then he moved. The chair scraped faintly as he pulled it back, but he didn’t sit. His hand reached for his phone instead, almost instinctively, as his body had already decided what came next before his mind caught up. Sophie. She glowed on the screen. He stared at it longer than necessary. Jaw tight. Thumb hovering. Then he pressed a call. The ringing started. Each tone stretched a little longer than it
Sophie stepped in like she had been waiting for that exact moment.Her hands came together in a slow, deliberate clap.The sound echoed, sharp against the walls, cutting through whatever fragile thread had been holding the air together.A laugh followed, loud, unrestrained, the kind that didn’t ask for permission to exist.“Wow,” she said, dragging the word out as her gaze swept across them. “This is… far from amazing.”Matthew’s body went rigid.The warmth that had lingered between him and Isabella thinned, replaced by something colder, heavier. His hand dropped from where it had hovered uncertainly, his fingers curling slightly at his side.Isabella didn’t step back.She turned slowly, her attention settling on Sophie with a calm that felt almost deliberate.“What are you doing here?” Isabella asked.Her voice came out smooth, controlled, as though the interruption had been expected all along.Sophie tilted her head, her smile still in place, though it had sharpened at the edges.“I
Matthew had been staring at the same page for longer than he cared to admit.Numbers blurred into each other, columns stretching into meaninglessness, the faint hum of the air conditioner filling the spaces where his focus should have been. His pen rested between his fingers, unmoving, its tip hovering just above the margin of the document.The knock didn’t come, but the door simply opened.He looked up. Surprise registered before he could smooth it over.“Isabella?”She stepped in as though she owned the space—or perhaps as though she had never stopped owning parts of it. The door clicked shut behind her, soft, controlled. Her heels barely made a sound against the polished floor as she walked further in.“You didn’t call,” he added, straightening slightly in his chair.Isabella’s lips curved faintly, not quite a smile.“Would you have picked?”Matthew held her gaze for a second, then leaned back, placing the pen down with deliberate care.“What are you doing here?"She tilted her hea
Matthew said nothing. But the surprise in his eyes lingered. It wasn’t outrage. It wasn’t anger. It was something quieter. Something unsettled. Like she’d shifted a piece on a board he hadn’t realized they were playing on. Ava didn’t mind. She let him look. Let him wonder. He lowered his gaze t
Monday morning felt quiet. Ava stood in the kitchen in her oversized sweater, staring at the steam rising from her cup of tea like it might rearrange itself into something meaningful. Sophie had left yesterday. Hugged her tight at the airport. Promised she’d visit again soon. “Don’t spiral,” Sop
Ava didn’t answer.She stood there in front of his desk, hands resting lightly against the edge, her nails pressing into the polished wood without her realizing it. Matthew watched her in that steady way of his — not blinking much, not moving much either. He had always known how to wait her out.Wh
The folder felt heavier than it should have. Ava stood behind Matthew’s desk, the leather chair nudging the back of her knees, her fingers curled around the tab like it might bite her if she loosened her grip. Hamilton & Rhodes Legal Associates. Why would he need a lawyer? Her mouth went dry.







