Ava!!!

Three Months Later


“Two cheeseburgers and a lemon juice… you can add French fries.”


Sophia scribbled the order down quickly, her fingers already sore from gripping the pen all day. The smile she offered was automatic, practiced one she could put on even when her cheeks ached from holding it for hours.


“Got it. Just give me a few minutes, ma’am,” she replied softly, before hurrying off toward the kitchen.


The woman who’d placed the order didn’t blend in like the others who came to eat here. She radiated a quiet elegance that turned heads without effort. From her perfectly tailored blazer to her Italian leather shoes and the glimmering purse perched neatly by her chair, every detail screamed wealth.

Old wealth, not the flashy kind that needed to be shown off, this was sophistication carved over years.


Sophia tried not to notice. She had learned not to linger on people like that, because envy was a sharp, unkind blade. Instead, she focused on her tray, balancing plates, dropping orders, forcing herself into the rhythm of work.


When she finally returned with the steaming burgers and golden fries, she placed them down with care.


“Enjoy.”


The woman’s smile was gracious. “Thank you, young lady.”


Sophia returned to the floor, her eyes sweeping the diner. Other waitresses were caught up with customers. For the first time in hours, she could breathe.

She seized the opportunity, practically rushing toward the restroom, her bladder demanding relief.


Inside, she leaned against the stall door for a brief moment, exhaling. These four walls gave her the only privacy she’d had all day. By the time she washed her hands and caught her reflection in the mirror, fatigue had already settled heavily under her eyes.


“3:15 p.m.?” she murmured, checking her phone while drying her hands. A groan escaped her lips.

“Almost time to be done. Argh, I feel so tired.”


She pushed out into the dining area, adjusting her apron, only to freeze.

The elegant woman was staring at her. Not the casual glance of a customer, but a direct, assessing stare that felt too pointed, too knowing.


Sophia approached with a polite smile. “Hey ma’am, do you need anything else?”


The woman’s reply came smoothly, but her words cut like glass.


“Why do you work here, Sophia?”


Sophia’s heart thudded.

She had not given her name. The tray nearly slipped from her fingers. Panic prickled at her skin.

How does she know me?


Swallowing, she forced a smile that didn’t quite hold. “I need money, ma’am. Everyone works for money, and I am doing the same.”


The woman tilted her head, eyes sharp and unwavering. “Aren’t you Mr. Hernandez’s daughter? I am certain he doesn’t know you work here.”


Sophia’s stomach twisted. Her father’s name spoken so casually in this place where she thought she was safe from recognition.

She sat down across from the woman before she could stop herself, voice taut.


“How do you know who I am?”


Silence stretched. The woman sipped her lemon juice slowly, her composure deliberate, her eyes never leaving Sophia’s face.


At last, she set the glass down carefully. “I used to know your father. You were so young the last time I saw you. I’m surprised I still remember your face, it is still very pretty.”


Sophia looked away, whispering under her breath, “Not everyone recognizes me.” Her eyes returned to the woman, sharper this time. “I don’t think I recognize you.”


The woman’s gaze drifted past her, toward the window. “I could swear I just saw your father’s driver outside. What is his name again…”


Sophia bolted upright, panic flooding her chest.

“Dad is here?”


Before the woman could clarify, Sophia fled, the scrape of her chair loud against the floor.


“Sophia?” the woman called softly, but she was gone.


Inside the cramped worker’s room, Sophia yanked at her apron strings, ripping it off. She tore the ID badge from her shirt and shoved both into her bag with trembling hands.


“I can’t wait another five minutes. I can’t afford for Dad to see me here,” she muttered to herself, her words tumbling over in a rush. “What is his driver even doing here? Ughh!”


She pulled a scarf from her bag, wrapping it hastily around the lower half of her face before pushing through the back exit of the diner.

Her eyes darted left and right, scanning the street.
“He must not know I work here. Never.”


Her pace quickened. So focused on hiding, she didn’t notice the tall figure walking toward her until their shoulders collided.


Her scarf slipped to the ground.


“Sorry, sorry!” she blurted, crouching to snatch it up.


By the time she straightened, the man was already striding away without so much as a glance back.


Sophia’s jaw dropped. “Seriously?! How rude. I clearly didn’t see him, but he wasn’t paying attention either”.


She studied his retreating form, crisp white shirt fitted across broad shoulders, black shorts that exposed strong, hairy legs, white athletic shoes spotless against the pavement.

He looked polished. Handsome, even. But his manners? Lacking.


“He dresses well but has bad manners. How pitiful,” she muttered with a smirk, wrapping her scarf more securely this time.


After several minutes, she reached the bus stop, her body sinking with relief onto the bench. When the bus arrived, she climbed aboard, slid into a seat, and let out a long, weary sigh.


“My paycheck’s coming tomorrow. I should buy groceries, deodorant, maybe new clothes… Oh, and my pads are almost out,” she whispered under her breath. “Rent is due soon too. I should save for that…”


The list grew in her mind like a storm cloud. She pressed her forehead against the cool glass of the bus window and whined softly.

“Responsibility is strangling me.”


Her tired eyes scanned the street absently then froze.


That white shirt. Those black shorts. The same sneakers.


Her pulse skipped. “Oh! It’s that rude guy.”


The bus crept forward, and she twisted in her seat, waiting to see his face as they passed him. She looked once, quickly away, then again, unable to stop herself.


Her heart slammed against her ribs.


“No way…”


She stumbled to the back of the bus for a better angle, her breath catching.


The flashbacks struck like lightning, his face in her dreams, the library, that drunken night she tried to forget.


“Stop the bus!” she shouted.


Heads turned. People frowned. But she didn’t care. She pushed forward, breathless.


“Please, stop the bus!”


The driver scowled but pulled over. The moment the doors hissed open, she bolted out, her scarf slipping from her neck as she ran.


The man was still in sight, moving steadily.

Sophia hurried, her steps quick and uneven, but just before she could close the distance, he turned a corner.


“No, no, no… don’t disappear again,” she whispered, breaking into a half-run.


When she turned the corner, the street was quiet. Empty.


Her chest rose and fell sharply. “Where is he? I was right behind him.” She bit her lip, frustration boiling. “Am I hallucinating? He couldn’t have vanished already.”


“Why would I disappear?”


The voice came from behind her.


Sophia spun, her breath catching.


There he stood, closer than her dreams had ever painted him. Taller, broader, his presence commanding. His brown eyes held hers, sharp and curious. The fitted shirt clung to his shoulders, his jawline sharp enough to cut glass.

He raised a brow, and the simple motion sent heat coursing through her chest.


His scent reached her, clean, expensive cologne, layered with something warmer, more intimate, like body spray on heated skin. It curled into her lungs and made her dizzy.


Sophia blinked rapidly, looking away then back again, unable to ground herself.

“How… how is this possible?” Her voice dropped into a whisper. “How are you possible?”


His brow furrowed. “Who are you?”


She opened her mouth, stammering. No sound came. Her brain had abandoned her.


“Are you a stalker?” he asked coolly. His hands slid into his pockets as he looked her over. “You’ve been following me.”


He scoffed, but Sophia’s eyes wouldn’t stop roaming over him, his face, his chest, his hands.


“I… do… you know me?” she blurted. “Who are you?”


A smirk tugged at his lips. For a moment he studied her, then his expression shifted.


“Wait a minute. I know you.”


Sophia’s heart leapt.


He stepped closer, recognition softening his gaze.


She fiddled with her hair, embarrassed, her cheeks warm. “Hehe… don’t stare at me like that. My friend told me you… you helped me out at the tavern a few months ago. I never got to say thank you.”


His memory flickered visibly, and he folded his arms.


“I’m sorry,” she added quickly, fingers fidgeting.


“It’s okay. You didn’t do anything wrong,” he interrupted.


“Yes, I did,” she whispered. “My friend said I….”


“Hey, man!”


A new voice cut through the air.


Sophia turned sharply to see a tall, shirtless guy at the doorway of a nearby apartment. Joggers hung low on his hips, and she instantly looked away, heat flooding her cheeks.


“Who’s this? You brought a girl?”


Before she could deny it, two more men appeared behind him, drawn by curiosity.


Sophia’s pulse hammered. Three pairs of eyes fixed on her, all sharp, all amused.


She raised her hands quickly. “I… I’ll just leave. This is a misunderstanding. I only just met him. I’am nothing.”


“Yes, she’s right, she was just about to leave”.


But his friends weren’t convinced. The shirtless one grinned, stepping forward.

“Climax has never brought a girl here. You’re the first. We have to entertain you before you go.”


Sophia blinked. “Climax?”


The name echoed in her head. His name is Climax?


Before she could process, the other two flanked her, their grins wolfish. “At least have a drink. Come on.”


Her eyes darted back to Climax, but he only stood there, watching, unreadable.


Moments later, she was ushered inside. The smell of fried turkey hit her nose, her stomach growling in betrayal. The apartment was neat, masculine, game controllers on the table, a paused Mortal Kombat flashing on a giant screen.


Climax entered behind her, his presence silent but magnetic.


“You guys are scaring her,” he began, his voice low.


“I’m not scared,” Sophia cut in quickly, her gaze locking with his. “You saved me once. I know I can be safe with you.”


The words slipped out softer than she meant, almost a whisper. His eyes held hers for a beat longer before he looked away.


“You heard her,” the brown-skinned man in a blue shirt said cheerfully, approaching with a bottle of strawberry wine.

“Sit here. Let me pour you some. It’s one of my favorites, you’ll love it.”


She hesitated, then perched on the edge of the couch. The sweet scent of the wine made her mouth water.


Climax’s friends filled the room like a storm.

One brown-skinned, full of charm and energy. Another milk-skinned with mischievous eyes, and the shirtless one radiating boldness. They weren’t just friends; they were a pack. A brotherhood. And all of them were studying her.


How had she gone from invisible to being surrounded by men like this?


Her gaze slipped to Climax. He was by the fridge, drinking cold water as though none of this concerned him. His aloofness only pulled her in deeper.


The conversation swirled around her, questions asked, jokes made. She tried to keep up, but her mind drifted.


“Sorry,” she blurted suddenly, blinking. “What was the question again?”


The mischievous one grinned. “Your name. We asked what your name was. You’ve been too busy staring at Climax.”


Laughter erupted. Sophia flushed scarlet, her eyes darting to Climax, who was watching her intently.
And before she could stop herself, the word tumbled out.


“Ava.”


The laughter halted.


“Ava?” they chorused.


Sophia’s heart stopped. She clamped her mouth shut, eyes wide.

“Why did I just call myself Ava?”