All Chapters of Ava, My Heart: Chapter 51 - Chapter 60

Noah didn’t sit right.He kept shifting in the chair, one ankle hooked behind the other, then undoing it. His hands were folded, then not. He rubbed his thumb against his palm like he was trying to erase something that wouldn’t come off. He had done worse things in his life than this. He knew that. But this felt different. This felt personal in a way he couldn’t shake.Deirdre Reed watched him without blinking.She sat across from him, relaxed, back straight, chin lifted. Her face was calm, almost bored, like she was waiting for a delayed flight and not for the aftermath of a marriage imploding. She wore black, simple and expensive, the kind of outfit that didn’t need decoration to announce power.“You look nervous,” she said.“I’m fine,” Noah replied too fast.Deirdre smiled just a little. Not warm. Not amused. Just observant.“People who are fine don’t keep moving like they’re sitting on a tack,” she said.Noah exhaled and leaned back, forcing himself to stop fidgeting. He crossed h

Alexander sat in his car for what felt like hours, though it was barely thirty minutes. The engine was off, the streetlights casting long, pale lines across the dashboard. He hadn’t driven anywhere. He didn’t need to. He couldn’t think about traffic, or the road, or anything except her...Ava. Her face. The way she had stood there, strong even when he’d accused her, trembling even when his anger had filled the room.His hands clenched the steering wheel, even though it wasn’t moving. He could still feel the cold leather under his fingers, the faint grip of tension in his shoulders, the way his chest felt like it was being torn open from the inside.He wanted to call June. Needed to. She’d ruined everything, been part of the chaos, ignored him at every turn. But his thumb hovered over her name on his phone, frozen. She didn’t care. She hadn’t cared. And the thought of her brought him no relief, no satisfaction. Just more frustration. More anger that had nowhere to go except to Ava, and

June saw him before he saw her, and the sight of him made her stomach flip...not with the soft flutter of affection, but with the sharp, predatory hunger of a woman who was seeing her prize within reach.Alexander was leaning against his black sedan, but the man who usually carried himself with the effortless grace of old money was gone. He looked ravaged. His shirt was rumpled, his tie was gone, and his hair was a mess. His eyes were fixed on a point somewhere in the distance with a hollow, haunted stare. He looked like he was standing in the middle of a debris field, waiting for the smoke to clear after an explosion.June smoothed her skirt, a small, secret smile touching her lips before she wiped it away for the act. She’d worked so hard for this. She’d watched him and Ava bicker over those petty, stupid things...a a misunderstood comment, the way Ava’s background never quite fit the Reed aesthetic. She’d seen the crack in the door and waited.When he’d stormed out of the house two

Ava sat at Chelsea’s dining table with her laptop open and a legal pad beside it. Not the messy one with half thoughts and crossed-out lines. The clean one. The pen was capped, resting parallel to the edge like she’d placed it there on purpose.She wasn’t tense. She wasn’t tired. She was focused.Her phone buzzed once. Email notification.She clicked.Still nothing from the hospital records office.She checked the timestamp on her sent request again. Two days ago. Same wording she’d used before. Same department. Same subject line.Last month, that office had replied in under three hours.Today, silence.Ava leaned back in her chair and looked at the screen, eyes steady. “That’s new,” she said out loud.Chelsea, standing by the counter with a mug, glanced over. “What?”“They’re stalling,” Ava replied. “Not denying. Just… waiting.”Chelsea frowned. “Maybe they’re busy?”Ava gave a small smile. “They’re never busy.”She typed a follow-up. Short. Polite. Neutral.Sent it.Then she opened

Ava’s head spun before she even opened her eyes. Her stomach was a storm of nausea and tight, twisting knots. She gripped the edge of the bathroom sink, breathing shallow, trying to steady herself, but each breath seemed to make the queasiness worse. Her cheeks were hot, her temples throbbing.She had ignored it at first. Thought it was just exhaustion, stress, the aftermath of weeks of sleepless nights, fear, grief. But when the third wave of sickness hit her in the middle of the night, she knew this wasn’t normal. Her body felt alien to her, like it was holding a secret she hadn’t asked for.She stumbled to the kitchen and searched for something solid to eat, anything. A piece of toast. Plain water. Something to anchor her. But nothing worked. Her hands shook, her vision blurred, and she sank to the floor with her back against the cabinets.Her phone buzzed. Alexander. She didn’t pick up. She couldn’t. The thought of telling him felt like holding a knife to her own chest. She closed