38. Ava
AVA
T he car ride to the airport was a blur, the silence which hung between Ty and me thick and oppressive.
I leaned my head against the passenger seat window, the cold glass pressing into my temple, soothing the ache that throbbed in time with my pulse.
My chest was hollow, emptied of all the screaming, crying, and pleading that had consumed me. There was nothing left but the numb weight of exhaustion.
I barely noticed the turns Ty made or the hum of the tires on the road.
When the car slowed, gravel crunching under the wheels, I blinked and glanced out the window, expecting lines of cars, concrete terminal buildings, and planes taking off overhead.
But this wasn’t the airport.
The sea glimmered in the distance, framed by towering pines that swayed gently in the salty breeze .
I frowned, my thoughts sluggish, trying to piece together where we were.
Ty put the car in park and got out without a word.
He opened the passenger door and offered his hand, and I stared up at him, too drained to ask why we had stopped.
“I wanted you to see it before I go,” he said, his voice calm but edged with something I couldn’t place.
I blinked at him, his words barely registering, and turned toward the house in front of us, a quaint two-story with a wraparound porch.
For a moment, it felt like déjà vu. The scent of the pine trees mingled with the faint sweetness of strawberries from a large patch in the front garden, and I paused mid-step.
“Have you brought me here before?” I asked, my voice hoarse and unfamiliar to my own ears.
Ty shook his head, his expression unreadable. “It was actually you who brought me here.”
The words didn’t make sense. My brow furrowed as I stared at him, waiting for an explanation, but he just gestured toward the house.
“Go on,” he said softly. “See if I got it right.”
I hesitated but moved forward, the gravel crunching beneath my shoes as I approached the porch.
The wind shifted, carrying the tang of saltwater and the faintest memory of a conversation I couldn’t quite grasp.
My hand trailed along the smooth wood of the porch railing as I stepped onto it, and something in me faltered.
“This is… where we would drink tea,” I whispered without thinking, the words spilling out before I could catch them .
A chill ran down my spine as the familiarity solidified. I turned to Ty, my heart beginning to race.
He said nothing, just nodded for me to continue.
I pushed the door open.
Inside, the light was golden and soft, filtering through blue curtains that swayed in the breeze. The smell of the sea mingled with pine and the faintest trace of fresh paint.
I stepped inside, and my breath hitched as I took in the details—the light and airy rooms overlooking the sea, the antique writing desk beside the sunny window, the large comfortable bed piled high with pillows.
My eyes burned as I wandered deeper into the house, the lump in my throat growing heavier with each step.
It was perfect.
“I had it built for you,” Ty said quietly, his voice steady. “I hope I got it right.”
I turned to look at him, my chest tightening.
He stood beside me, close but not quite touching, his eyes watching me carefully.
He’d done this for me. Every detail was thought out, intentional, and right.
I cupped Ty’s cheek, guiding his hesitant lips toward mine. His resistance was slight, but it was there, a wall of guilt and doubt I was determined to shatter.
The kiss started soft, a gentle test, as if to confirm he hadn’t drifted too far away from me. That we hadn’t lost each other completely.
My heart ached when I remembered the hateful things I’d screamed at him in the forest. The cruel accusations, the raw anger that had cut him like a blade .
I would have to apologize, to tell him I hadn’t meant it—but not now.
Now, I just wanted to be with him. To be with the man who had built this house for me, who knew me better than anyone.
Even if we had to leave soon. Even if this moment was all we’d ever have.
I pulled back just enough to lift my sweater over my head, my movements quick and determined.
Ty froze, his eyes searching mine, conflicted and anguished.
“Don’t stop,” I whispered to Ty, my voice cracking as my fingers yanked at his jacket, a surge of defiance coursing through me, one that burned away the grief and left only raw, aching need.
“Loving each other doesn’t mean we love him any less,” I said. My voice was barely audible, but it was enough.
His gaze held mine for a beat, the anguish in his eyes deepening before something broke. His lips crashed into mine, the kiss fierce and desperate, filled with everything we couldn’t say aloud.
Our tongues twisted together as his hands found my waist, pulling me against him like he couldn’t bear even the smallest distance between us.
As we stripped each other, his touch was fire and comfort, a balm for the wounds we carried but could never heal. And in this moment, there was no room for guilt or doubt, only us.
I lunged at him, naked and desperate to feel him inside me.
Ty chuckled as he lifted me into his arms, and I wrapped my legs around his waist. “I have one more room to show you.”
I made a frustrated noise, but I let him carry me into the room next door, the only room I hadn’t seen.
The library.
It was so large it spanned from front to back, filled with books on shelves like driftwood.
I froze against Ty, my heart pounding in my ears, as he lowered me to a soft couch the color of sea glass.
I glanced around the room as he pushed his pants down into a pile beside the couch before lowering himself between my legs.
Over his shoulder, sunlight poured through tall windows overlooking the sea, illuminating shelves the exact color of driftwood.
This wasn’t just my house. This was my dream house.
The realization hit me like a tidal wave, knocking the breath from my lungs as fragments of a long-ago conversation resurfaced.
I’d described this exact room. The big library filled with light, with a view of the sea. The shelves like driftwood. The couches like sea glass.
But not to Ciaran.
My heart twisted violently in my chest. I hadn’t told Ciaran.
It was Ty.
Ty had been the one who had saved me from that party. He’d sat me on the counter and fed me strawberries.
I’d told Ty about my dream house, about what would become our dream house.
The earth tilted beneath me as the weight of the realization settled in my bones. All this time, I had thought it was Ciaran whom I had fallen for first.
But it was Ty.
It had always been Ty.
“ You …” I started, but the words got caught in my throat.
He thrust into me, cutting me off, igniting a fire that spread through my entire body.
Nothing else existed in that moment except for him, filling me, consuming me, claiming me.
“Fuck, you’re so tight,” Ty groaned, his voice low and gravelly. “You fit me so perfectly.”
His movements were hard and rough and desperate, each thrust more forceful than the last.
“You…” I gasped, my nails digging into his shoulders. “You remembered.”
He growled, a sound that reverberated through his chest and into mine.
“I remember everything about you, Ava,” he said, his voice breaking just enough to send a fresh wave of emotion crashing over me, even as his hands gripped my hips, fingers pressing into my flesh hard enough to leave marks.
I welcomed the pain, craved it even, as it grounded me in this moment.
“And I will remember this .”
Before I could ask what he meant, Ty snatched something from the side of the couch and stuffed it in my mouth.
I smelled my own arousal on my lace panties and groaned.
There was another scent which I couldn’t place, but it was familiar .
Ty sealed his hand over my mouth and nose and fucked me roughly, on the edge of brutally.
My head went light, the afternoon sunlight blazing into twinkling sunbeams as I moaned desperately against my panties, feeling the pressure building.
I was already so close.
Ty’s pace quickened, his hips snapping against mine with an urgency that bordered on desperation.
The couch creaked beneath us, the sound mingling with our heavy breaths and cries, the faint sound of waves crashing against the cliffs just audible through the thick glass windows.
I wrapped my legs tighter around him, pulling him closer, deeper, as I came hard.
My body convulsed around him as waves of ecstasy crashed over me, my muffled cries barely escaping past Ty’s hand and the panties in my mouth.
Ty shuddered against me as he came as well.
But even as I rode out my orgasm, stars exploding behind my eyelids, a realization hit me just as hard.
The second scent, the one that seemed so familiar…
Ty had laced my panties with a drug.
His hand fell away from my mouth and I spat my panties out.
But it was too late. The drug was already working its way through my body, making my thoughts heavy.
“Ty?” My voice wavered, weak and hoarse as I tilted my head to meet his eyes. “W-why did you d-drug m…”
His face softened, but his eyes—God, his eyes were distant, full of something final.
His hand moved to cradle my cheek, holding me as though I were something precious, fragile. “Even if I’m not the one you love, I’d give my life to protect your happiness.”
A cold, sharp fear twisted in my stomach. I tried to push myself upright, but my arms refused to cooperate. “W-what—?”
I blinked furiously, fighting the encroaching darkness.
What was happening?
Oh God, was he going back for Ciaran on his own?
No. NO .
“I’m sorry,” he murmured, his breath warm against my temple. “For everything.”
A gasp escaped me, panic surging through my chest, wild and desperate when I realized he was saying goodbye.
My body betrayed me, collapsing in his arms. “T-ty, d-don’t—”
“I love you more,” he whispered. “And when I say ‘I love you more,’ I don’t just mean I love you more than he loves you or more than you love me—which I do. What I mean is… I love you more than any time, space, or distance that could ever separate us. I love you more than any flaws you think you have, more than any broken pieces or darkness in your heart. What I mean is… I love you more than I love myself. I love you more than everything .”
My lips trembled, trying to form the words that burned inside me.
I needed him to know. I needed him to hear me.
But my body wouldn’t obey. My lips wouldn’t move, my voice trapped in the heavy fog.
The room narrowed to a single point, to his pale-blue eyes, blackness swallowing the edges of my vision .
“ Slán leat, mo ghrá ,” he murmured, his breath ghosting over my skin.
Farewell, my love.
My heart screamed as everything else slipped away.
No. I love you more. Mhaor, I choose—
But then there was only blackness.