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Chapter 40 – “Exile”
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2025-06-28 03:42:37
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Only His On Paper Chapter 54 — “His Goodbye”
| Ava’s POV⸻The flap lifted without resistance.The envelope didn’t fight me. It just… gave in. Like it had been waiting for me to catch up.Inside, one page. Folded once, carefully. No signature on the outside. No pretense of anything formal. I unfolded it with the edge of my thumb, breath held tight in my chest as if I exhaled too early, the words might vanish before they reached me.His handwriting was exactly as I remembered—sharp, angled, just a little too precise for someone who pretended not to care.I sat down on the floor.And I read.Ava—I don’t know how to write this without sounding like a man who’s run out of ways to be brave. But maybe that’s the point.You once asked me if I knew the difference between needing someone and choosing them.I didn’t. Not then.But now I know this: you deserve to choose love without obligation. Without the weight of contracts, of boardrooms, of sickness, or guilt. You deserve something that doesn’t come with conditions attached. Something
Only His On Paper Chapter 53 — “No More Paper”
≈ Ava’s POVThe sea kept its own time.Every evening at six-thirty, the tide reached the rocks beneath the little bookstore-café and sighed like an old friend coming home. I learned to close the cash drawer by the rhythm of those waves, to stack the chairs before the gulls settled on the rail. Out here, on this forgotten stretch of coast, the world shrank to things I could hold: a chipped mug, a paperback that smelled of salt, my sister’s steady breathing as she napped upstairs.Lily had good days now. Better days than the city ever gave her. The damp air seemed to loosen her lungs; the silence let her sleep. I’d pushed two mismatched armchairs together and called it a sofa so she could watch the water when she woke. She said the horizon looked like freedom. I told her that was a dangerous word.I didn’t tell her how much I needed it too.Most nights, after I locked the front door, I sat at the counter and wrote lists on the backs of receipts. Rent. Medication. Groceries. Lies I would
Only His On Paper Chapter 52 — “ The Undoing”
Damian’s POVThe penthouse hadn’t changed.The curtains still hung the way she arranged them that morning we overslept. The tea mug she abandoned on the marble counter still held the ghost of mint. And the silence—God, the silence—had her shape carved into it.But she was gone.And I had let her go.The clock on the wall blinked 3:17 a.m. I hadn’t slept. I couldn’t. I kept waiting to hear her voice in the hallway, hear Lily’s soft laugh from the bedroom, feel the shift in air that always came before Ava walked into the room. But there was nothing. Just the hum of the city far below and the ache behind my ribs.I checked my phone again. Nothing. Again.No call.No message.No trace.She didn’t take security. Not a driver. Not even a bag that made sense. Just Lily, a few clothes, and the quietest goodbye I’d ever heard.Maybe that’s what hurt the most. That she didn’t scream. Didn’t fight.She just… left.Because I gave her a reason to.My fingers hovered over Naomi’s name more than onc
Only His On Paper Chapter 51 – “Not Yours to Burn“
Ava’s POVThe sun was rising, but it didn’t feel like a beginning.It felt like exposure.Light spilling over everything I couldn’t outrun.The headlines. The whispers. The worst part wasn’t what he said.It was how steady his voice was when he said it.Like it didn’t cost him a thing to doubt me.Like all the moments we shared, everything we survived could be erased with one look at aheadline.Lily stirred beside me on the train, her head tucked under my chin.So small. So still.She felt light in my arms, but heavy in all the ways that mattered.Too fragile to be out of a hospital bed.Too fragile to be caught in the middle of any of this.But I carried her anyway.Because no one else would.Because I couldn’t leave her behind, even if that meant leaving everything else.I kept one arm wrapped around her, like maybe I could still protect her from the noise, the world, the wreckage.But my other hand wouldn’t stop shaking.My phone screen glowed in my lap—still open to Naomi’s messa
Only His On Paper Chapter 50 — “The World Sees Us”
Ava’s POVThe hospital was quiet at midnight, but my phone wasn’t.I stared at Naomi’s last message. Helena leaked the contract footage. Ethan just reshared it. They’re pinning everything on you. Even Lily.Delete.That should’ve been the end of it.Out of sight, out of mind.Nice and neat. No noise.But it wasn’t just my phone that buzzed.It was the hallway… the nurses’ station—The way strangers started glancing twice, like the walls had whispered my name before I even walked past.The air shifted too.Sharper. Colder.Not just antiseptic, but… off. Like something had just happened. or was about to.I bent down, kissed Lily’s forehead.Let it linger a second longer than I meant to.“Back soon,” I whispered.And maybe I even believed it when I said it.But I wasn’t five steps away when I saw the flash.Not just on a screen…In the eyes.In a way, every single thing around me seemed to hold its breath.“Ms. Reynolds! Is it true you faked your sister’s illness for media sympathy?”I f
Only His On Paper Chapter 49 — “What We’re Worth”
Ava’s POVThe antiseptic sting in the air reminded me of every night I’d spent in hospitals, except tonight, the blood on the sheets wasn’t Lily’s. It was Damian’s.He’d walked in alone. No security, no suit, no press disguise. Just a streak of blood down his arm and something desperate in his eyes. He’d looked at me—only me—before sliding against the white wall outside Lily’s ICU room and saying nothing.I should’ve told him to leave.Instead, I told the nurse, “I’ve got it.”She blinked, uncertain. “You’re…?”“His wife.”Her mouth pressed into a tight line. She handed me the tray of gauze, thread, and antiseptic. No questions asked.“You need to let me look at that,” I said, quietly.Damian didn’t respond.So I turned. “Damian. Sit.”He hesitated, and then just like that night on the rooftop in Rome, the one he still pretended didn’t happen he listened. He lowered himself onto the stiff couch, his movements tight, the fabric of his shirt sticking to torn skin.Naomi had stuffed a me
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