Ava, My Heart

One month after the wedding, their apartment still felt like a dream.Alexander Reed, with his sleeves rolled up and collar loosened, stood in the open kitchen, pouring two cups of coffee. The morning sun streamed through the floor-to-ceiling windows of their high-rise apartment, washing everything in gold. His phone buzzed on the counter, calls waiting from clients, contractors, and his assistant, but he didn’t care right now.Ava walked in, adjusting the strap of her handbag and tucking a stray curl behind her ear. She wore her usual neat blouse and skirt, the kind that made her look like every fourth grader’s favorite teacher…warm, dependable, and full of life. She paused to grab a slice of toast, smiling at the sight of her husband already waiting with her coffee.“You’re going in early?” Alexander asked, watching her take a bite.“They’re rehearsing for the spring play,” she said, eyes lighting up. “Mrs. Raymond lost her voice yesterday, so I told her I’d help.”He handed her the

The final school bell rang, sounding through the corridors of Willow Creek Elementary. The Grade 4 students burst out of their seats with the energy of freedom, racing to pack up their bags and shout their goodbyes.“Bye, Miss Ava!”“See you tomorrow, Miss Ava!”Ava stood by the door with her usual warm smile, high-fiving a few students as they filed out. She wore a simple cream blouse tucked into navy slacks, hair pinned into a neat bun. Comfortable. Effortless. Beautiful.“Don’t forget your homework, Casey!” she called after a student who was already halfway down the hall.Casey skidded to a halt, turned, and ran back to grab the worksheet from his desk. “Thanks, Miss Ava!”When the classroom emptied, Ava began stacking the leftover papers on her desk. Just as she reached for her water bottle, she heard soft footsteps and a gentle sniffle coming from the hallway.Curious, she stepped out.Near the entrance to the Grade 1 classes, a small boy sat on the steps, his backpack tucked tig

Alexander stood at the head of the table, eyes on the massive blueprint stretched across it. His tone was calm but firm as he spoke.“This section needs to be shifted. The line work is good, but it’s crowding the exterior walkway.”He picked up a red marker, circled a corner, and added, “Push this back by half a meter and rework the alignment here. I want a better flow.”“Yes, sir,” someone responded quickly, already adjusting the notes.He moved around the table, scanning details, flipping through pages, correcting a scale error in another file. The man moved like someone who owned the space…because he did. He wasn’t just the boss. He was the reason the company had become one of the most respected architectural firms in the city. Projects lined the shelves and wall, models of high-rises, bridges, private homes…each one stamped with his signature vision.He was just reaching for his phone when he caught the shift in atmosphere outside his office.Voices dropped. Eyes shifted.Then she

June sat cross-legged on her childhood bed, the corners of her room still covered in old posters and trinkets from another life. The silence in the house was loud, and the pink sheets beneath her were a reminder of just how long she’d been gone. Her mother was downstairs talking on the phone, probably bragging about her daughter being back in town. But June wasn’t listening. She was somewhere else entirely.Her mind was still in that café.Still replaying the moment her lips touched his.Alexander Reed.She closed her eyes and tilted her head back. Every detail of him was burned into her memory…the crisp white shirt rolled at the sleeves, the watch that gleamed when he adjusted it, the veins on his forearms. The calm way he spoke. The way he pulled back, steady and sure, like he had everything under control.And his face…That face.He was beautiful, but not in the fragile, model way. His features were bold. Masculine. A jaw that looked like it had been carved by someone who meant bus

The orphanage sat on the quieter side of town, tucked between a row of worn-out brick buildings and a garden Ava herself had helped plant over the years. She had grown up here...bare feet on cold floors, wide eyes always searching for something that felt like home. Now, she returned not as the child forgotten in the system, but as someone who had found a piece of herself again.Ava carried a box full of small gifts, each wrapped in brown paper and tied with colored yarn. The kids swarmed around her as she walked into the common room, their laughter bouncing off the faded walls. She knew their names, their favorite snacks, the way their eyes lit up when she brought books, crayons, or something as simple as a story told with heart.“Aunt Ava!” a girl squealed, launching herself into Ava’s arms. Her name was Lilah...six years old, missing a front tooth, and already the ringleader of the younger ones.“I brought puzzles this time,” Ava said, crouching beside them, handing each child somet