Chapter 4: It Felt Like Home

Her two brothers, Leo and Marcus, were already arguing in the living room, their voices overlapping in the same chaotic rhythm they’d had since they were boys. Across the room, her younger sister, Maya, sat curled into the corner of the couch, eyes fixed on her phone, completely disconnected from everything around her.

In this house, Ava had learned early on that you either had to be loud to be heard, or become someone people couldn’t ignore. She chose the second. She became perfect. Quiet. Successful. Untouchable.

Or at least, that’s what she told herself.

“Ava, pass the salt,” Leo said, not even looking up from his plate.

She passed it without a word, watching him. Her brothers took up space easily, like it was their right. They reminded her of their father men who moved through life without adjusting for anyone else, leaving the women behind to deal with what they broke.

“I heard the parlor is doing well,” Maya said, finally looking up. There was something in her tone something sharp. “Must be nice being the successful one. Mom talks about it all the time when you’re not here.”

“It’s just work,” Ava said quietly.

“Everything is work with you,” her mother added from the head of the table. “You push yourself too much. A woman shouldn’t have to carry that much on her own.”

Ava felt it hit, even though she didn’t react.

Her whole life had turned into performance. Every choice, every achievement, all of it built around one quiet need to be seen, to be enough.

But here, sitting at the table with her own family, she felt invisible.

Her brothers didn’t know her dreams.

Her mother didn’t know her heart.

They only knew the version of her that held everything together.

Her phone vibrated against her thigh.

She knew she shouldn’t check it.

She really shouldn’t.

Still, the urge pulled at her.

Noah was the only person who ever looked at her like she mattered. Really mattered. When his attention was on her, everything else disappeared the noise, the expectations, the constant pressure to be more.

With him, she wasn’t competing.

She wasn’t proving anything.

She just… was.

Even if it only lasted an hour.

“I have to go,” Ava said suddenly, pushing her chair back.

“Dinner isn’t over,” her mother said sharply.

“I have something to finish,” Ava replied, already reaching for her bag.

No one stopped her.

Her brothers kept eating.

Her sister looked back at her phone.

It was like she had never been there.

And that’s when it hit her.

Noah’s distance didn’t feel new.

It felt familiar.

It felt like home.

That realization settled deep in her chest, heavier than anything her mother had said.

She walked out without another word, the night air hitting her as soon as she stepped outside. For a moment, she stood still, letting the silence wrap around her.

She could go home.

She could stay away.

She could choose herself.

But instead, she got into her car.

And drove toward him.

The road ahead stretched out in a blur of streetlights and passing cars, but Ava barely registered any of it.

Her grip tightened on the steering wheel.

She knew exactly what she was doing.

And she knew it wasn’t right.

Her mother’s voice echoed faintly in her mind, mixing with Tessa’s, both of them saying the same thing in different ways. That she deserved better. That she was settling for something that would never be enough.

But knowing didn’t make it easier to stop.

If anything, it made it worse.

Because this wasn’t just about Noah.

It was about the way he made everything else disappear.

The expectations. The pressure. The constant feeling that she had to prove something just to be loved.

With him, there were no rules.

No demands.

Just moments.

Short, intense, fleeting moments that felt real enough to hold onto.

Ava exhaled slowly, her chest rising and falling as she slowed at a red light.

She could turn around.

She could go home, wash her face, and pretend none of this mattered.

She could choose herself.

The light turned green.

And she didn’t stop.