Ava, My Heart의 모든 챕터: 챕터 61 - 챕터 70

Alexander Reed stood in the visitor room of the detention center, his hands gripping the edge of the table so tightly that his knuckles turned white. Across from him, Deirdre Reed sat in the standard-issue chair, her hands cuffed in front of her, the chain clinking softly as she shifted. She didn’t look scared. Not at first. Not yet.“Alex,” she said, her voice calm, almost sweet, like she was greeting a long-lost child. “I...”He cut her off with a laugh. Not a happy laugh. Not a relieved one. A short, sharp bark of disbelief and rage. “Alex?” he repeated, his eyes flashing, narrowing until they could have cut steel. “You think I’m here for pleasantries? That you can call me ‘Alex’ like we’re family?”Deirdre’s lips pressed together. She blinked slowly. She was trying to gauge him, but she was behind bars now. That shift in power… she hadn’t accounted for it.“You’re in here,” Alexander said, his voice low and dangerous. “Because of what you did. You tried to ruin my life. You tried

Ava locked the door the moment Alexander left.The sound of the click felt too loud. Final. Like it sealed something she wasn’t ready to lose.She stood there with her back against the door, breathing hard, her chest rising too fast like her body didn’t understand that the danger was gone. Her hands were shaking. Not a little. Fully shaking.She slid down slowly until she was sitting on the floor.And then she broke.It didn’t come out pretty. It didn’t come out quiet. It tore out of her like something alive.Her mouth opened and a sound came out that surprised even her. Raw. Ugly. Painful. She covered her face with both hands but it didn’t stop anything. Her shoulders started jerking as sobs ripped through her, one after another, no space in between.“I miss you,” she cried out, voice cracking so badly it scared her. “I miss you so much.”She pressed her forehead to her knees, curling into herself like she could shrink the hurt.She missed him. God, she missed him.Not the man who be

Alexander sat at the edge of the conference table, his tablet open in front of him, presentation slides queued and ready. Around him, the team murmured, checked their notes, made last-minute adjustments. Cameras were set. Reporters were here. A major reveal today: the new skyline project that would put his name on every billboard in the city.He smiled. Polished. Confident. Answered questions like he’d done it a thousand times. He laughed lightly when someone cracked a joke about how obsessive he was with measurements. Applause followed the mock complaint. Notes were taken. Names were exchanged. The world saw the architect at the top of his game.Inside, Alexander’s chest felt hollow.He kept blinking at his tablet, scrolling through messages he hadn’t sent. Short drafts of texts to Ava, deleted, rewritten, deleted again. Words felt insufficient. Too long, too short, wrong tone. Every time he tried, he realized the truth he couldn’t rewrite: Ava wasn’t answering. She wouldn’t answer.

Alexander read the email three times.The first time, he didn’t understand it. Not really. The words were there, clear enough, but his brain refused to line them up into something final.The second time, his chest tightened so hard he had to sit down.The third time, something inside him went quiet.Not calm. Not acceptance.Just quiet.I’ve met with a lawyer.I’m filing for divorce.He stared at the screen like it might change if he waited long enough.It didn’t.His phone slipped from his hand and landed face-down on the desk. He leaned back in his chair, one arm covering his face, the other hanging uselessly at his side.So this was it.Not a threat. Not a pause. Not space.An ending.He stayed like that for a long time, breathing through his nose, jaw locked so tight it hurt. He didn’t cry. He didn’t yell. He didn’t throw anything.That almost made it worse.A knock came at the door.“Alex?” his assistant said carefully. “The client from Zurich is on the line. They’re asking if yo

Alexander saw her before he meant to.He was stepping out of a black SUV, one hand already reaching for his phone, mind half on the meeting he’d just left and half on the list of things he still needed to pretend he cared about. Someone called his name from behind. A camera flashed somewhere. He didn’t turn.Then his body stopped on its own.Across the street, near a small café he’d passed a hundred times without noticing, Ava stood by the curb.She wasn’t looking around. She wasn’t searching for anyone. She was just there. Waiting for the light to change.She wore a loose cream sweater and dark leggings. Flat shoes. Hair pulled back in a simple tie that sat low at her neck. No makeup, or very little. She looked tired. Not broken. Just tired in a way that felt earned.And her hand rested on her stomach.Not protectively dramatic. Not like an announcement.Just there. Familiar. Instinctive.Alexander forgot to breathe.For a second, his brain refused to connect what his eyes were seein