Chapter 3: Echoes of Her Mother’s Warnings

The drive to her mother’s house always felt like a step backward, stripping away the confident, untouchable “Boss” version of herself layer by layer. As Ava pulled into the driveway of the modest home she grew up in, the chipped white paint on the porch railing made her chest tighten.

Family dinner was a performance she had been rehearsing since she was ten.

“You’re late,” her mother, Elena, said the moment Ava stepped through the door. There was no hug, just a quick, critical glance at her fitted black dress the same one she had worn for Noah. “I hope you weren’t working too much again. You look tired.”

“Just a busy morning at the parlor, Mom,” Ava said, kicking off her heels as she stepped into the kitchen.

The house smelled of roast chicken and rosemary, warm and familiar. But the atmosphere felt thin, like it could crack at any moment. Elena still lived in the shadow of a marriage that had ended years ago, carrying the bitterness of a man who walked away and never looked back.

She moved around the stove, then reached out and lightly touched Ava’s cheek. A small, unexpected softness. It never lasted.

“I saw your father’s brother at the store today,” her mother said, setting down a bowl. “He asked about you. I told him you’re doing well, even if you’re still single. A woman can’t do everything alone forever. You need stability.”

Ava gripped the back of a chair.

This again.

The same conversation, every week. Her mother’s life was proof of what happened when a man refused to stay. And yet Ava was caught up in Noah Volkov a man who was doing exactly that.

Different face. Same story.

Her phone buzzed in her apron pocket.

Her heart jumped instantly, hope rising before she could stop it.

“Excuse me,” she said, stepping into the hallway.

She pulled out her phone.

Not Noah.

Tessa: Checking in. Don’t let your mom get in your head tonight. You’re a queen, remember?

Ava let her head rest against the wall, closing her eyes.

Queen.

If only it felt that simple.

Her thoughts drifted to the notebook on her nightstand, filled with pages about a woman chasing love in the wrong places. At first, it had just been a story.

Now it felt like a mirror.

Noah’s silence had always been easy to hide in. He didn’t ask questions. Didn’t expect anything from her. Didn’t make her feel like she had to prove herself.

But that same silence came with a cost.

It meant she never knew where she stood.

And maybe that was worse.

She pushed herself off the wall and walked back into the dining room, taking her seat at the table where too many conversations had turned into quiet battles.

“Is there someone new?” her mother asked suddenly, her eyes narrowing. “You have that look. The same one I had before your father left. That… waiting look.”

Ava froze, her fork hovering midair.

“There’s no one, Mom.”

“Good,” Elena said sharply, returning to her food. “Better to be alone than to be someone’s secret.”

The words landed harder than Ava expected.

She swallowed, forcing the food down even though it tasted like nothing. Her phone sat beside her, silent.

She didn’t need to check.

She already knew.

Noah wasn’t calling.

Wasn’t texting.

Wasn’t choosing her.

And yet, a part of her was still waiting.

Ava lowered her gaze to her plate, pushing the food around without taking another bite.

She hated this feeling. The quiet pull in her chest. The part of her that refused to let go, even when everything in front of her made it clear she should.

It wasn’t just Noah.

It was what he represented.

The possibility that someone could choose her without conditions. Without expectations. Without turning her into something she had to earn.

But the more she thought about it, the more that illusion cracked.

Noah didn’t choose her.

He allowed her.

And somehow, she had convinced herself that was enough.

Her grip tightened around her fork.

It wasn’t enough.

It had never been.

Across the table, her mother continued eating like nothing had happened, like her words hadn’t just settled deep under Ava’s skin.

Maybe that was the problem.

Everyone in this house learned how to move on without fixing anything.

To say something sharp… then pretend it didn’t matter.

Ava exhaled slowly, her chest rising and falling as she tried to steady herself.

She wasn’t her mother.

She wasn’t going to live the same story.

At least… that’s what she had always told herself.