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80. Floating On Air
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Saving Ava 81. Not What You Think
The morning had started peacefully, with Peyton, Carver, and Ava nestled in the living room, nursing cups of coffee. The TV played quietly in the background, a habitual routine that gave their mornings a semblance of normalcy. But the tranquility was short-lived. As the news broadcast switched to a live scene outside the courthouse, their attention was abruptly captured. Handcuffed and visibly furious, Lana was being led out by the authorities. Her vehement outburst towards the media sent a chill through the room. She was accusing Carver, imploring journalists to dive into his past, promising them scandalous revelations. The scene on the TV was chaotic, with reporters swarming around Lana, capturing her every word. Carver, who had been leaning against the kitchen counter, coffee cup in hand, watched the screen with a stoic expression. As Lana’s accusations filled the room, he set his cup down with a soft clink, his jaw tightening. “Well, fuck,” he muttered, more to himself than to P
Saving Ava 82. Break It
In the kitchen, Peyton stood motionless, holding the empty beer bottle. He was beyond angry.He was livid. But he knew he needed to compose himself. Ava needed him now more than ever. He had to be her strength, her refuge in this fucked up neverending storm. Taking a deep breath, he braced himself, hoping to summon the fortitude to be there for her while breaking apart himself.Slowly, Peyton made his way to the bedroom, his heart heavy with apprehension. Just as he entered, he witnessed Ava hurling one of his boots at the camera mounted in the corner of the room. The boot missed its mark, and Ava collapsed onto the floor, her body wracked with sobs. He watched helplessly as the boot flew through the air, landing harmlessly on the floor. Peyton quickly wrapped his arms around her. "What are you trying to do?" he asked. Through her sobs, Ava managed to speak. "The camera is on, he’s fucking watching us. Break it, Peyton. Break it, or I will."She reached for his other boot, but Peyto
Saving Ava 83
"I'm not sure I want there to be an 'us' anymore, Peyton." The sentence hung in the air, heavy with implications and sorrow.Peyton's breath hitched, his heart racing with panic. He gently held Ava back, searching her face for clarity, for confirmation of the fear that now gripped him. "Ava?" he asked desperately.Ava, seeing the alarm in his eyes, hurried to clarify. Her words rushed and filled with emotion. "No, no, not us. I want us, Peyton... I'm just not sure I want 'us' to include him anymore." Her eyes, red and swollen from crying, bore into his, conveying a steadfast love for Peyton, even amid the heartbreak.Peyton was speechless, the complexity of their entwined lives with Carver suddenly unraveling before him. He nodded silently. Pulling Ava back into his embrace, Peyton held her close, a silent oath to be her support and anchor in their lives raging seas. They lay together, wrapped in each other's arms, finding solace in their shared grief. Ava's sobs slowly subsided, but
Saving Ava 84
Ava and Peyton navigated a tumultuous sea of emotions in the safe confines of Peyton's apartment. Each day of the week felt like an eternity, filled with moments of fragile calm, abruptly shattered by waves of distress and grief. Ava, usually so composed and strong, grappled with an overwhelming sense of loss and confusion. Her emotions swung like a pendulum, from moments of numbness to intense bouts of sorrow.During one particularly harrowing evening, Ava curled up on the couch, a blanket wrapped tightly around her. Her face, usually full of life and warmth, was marred by the shadow of heartache. "I just feel so lost, Peyton," she whispered, her voice cracking under the weight of her emotions. "Like a part of me is missing, and I don’t know how to get it back."Peyton, sitting beside her, wrapped his arm around her quivering shoulders. His heart ached at the sight of her pain. "I know, Ava. It’s hard, it’s really hard," he said, his voice a mixture of empathy and determination. "But
Saving Ava 85
As Carver unbuttoned his shirt, the receptionist silently entered the room behind him. Observing the scene sternly, Esmerelda gave a slight nod to the receptionist. In response, the receptionist sharply smacked her clipboard against Carver’s bare back, chastising him for prematurely disrobing. "No one told you to do that," she reprimanded. Carver, startled, slowly rebuttoned his shirt, his gaze never leaving Esmerelda. He was well aware of the rule against making direct eye contact in such circumstances, yet he could not look away, a silent rebellion against the order of things. A quiet plea for more pain. Esmerelda informed the receptionist that Carver had chosen the 'unlimited' path for tonight's session. The receptionist's smile turned wicked at the revelation. Carver had never before given them such control, and the anticipation of what they could do with this newfound power was evident in her expression. Led through the new halls of Esmerelda's, Carver couldn’t help but notic
Saving Ava 86
Esmerelda's sharp rapping on the truck window jolted Carver awake. Blinking against the sunlight streaming through the glass, he saw her standing outside, her appearance strikingly different in the daylight. Gone was the dominatrix persona, replaced now by a more business-like demeanor."I can't have my patrons sleeping in their trucks out front, Carver," Esmerelda stated, her tone a mix of annoyance and concern.Carver, still disoriented from sleep, responded, “Well, I own the fucking building, give me a room.”Esmerelda paused, considering his request, before nodding in agreement. “Okay, fine,” she conceded. She led him inside the building, guiding him to her personal apartment. The space was unlike the rest of Esmerelda’s establishment; it was more reflective of her day-to-day life, less about her professional role.She pointed to the couch. “You can sleep there,” she said, her voice softer now, a hint of empathy creeping through.Exhausted, Carver collapsed onto the couch, his bod
Saving Ava 87
Carver's fever worsened, a clear sign that his body was struggling to cope with the injuries. The infections from the wounds were not properly treated, adding to his physical distress. His once muscular and resilient body was now a canvas of suffering, each mark a story of his descent into despair.Esmerelda, witnessing his decline, realized that Carver was on a path to self-destruction. His disregard for his physical well-being was alarming, but it was his mental state that worried her the most. He had become a shell of the man he once was, driven by a need to punish himself that was consuming him from the inside.The fever brought with it delirium, and Carver began to lose touch with reality. His moments of lucidity were few and far between, and during these moments, he was haunted by visions of Peyton and Ava. In his fevered state, he would sometimes speak to them, apologizing, pleading, and expressing his love and regret.As Esmerelda watched Carver hanging from the rack, his body
Saving Ava 88
As they settled Carver in the bed, Ava began the task of undressing him. His jeans, the same pair he had been wearing when he first arrived at Esmerelda's over a week ago, were tattered and stained with blood. Carefully, she helped him into a pair of pajama pants and one of his T-shirts. It became apparent that Carver had lost a significant amount of weight; the shirt, which would have once fit him snugly, now hung loosely on his frame.“When was the last time you ate?” Ava asked gently, her concern evident in her tone.Carver’s response was faint, “I don’t even know.”Peyton, sensing the immediate need, headed into the kitchen to make soup, considering it the most appropriate and easy-to-digest food for Carver in his current state.While Peyton was away, Carver, with a sudden surge of energy, rolled over and pulled Ava into a tight embrace. As she held him, Ava realized he was burning up with fever. “You’re so hot,” she whispered, her worry growing.Peyton returned with the soup, and
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