Chapter 40 Eleanor
ELEANOR
By the time we were in the car, Ava had already launched into a full, breathless recap of everything that had happened while she’d been gone.
“—and then Leo made popcorn, but he burned some of it, and Becca said that still counted, and we watched three whole episodes of that show with the dogs, and tomorrow we’re going to the pool if it’s not raining, and Leo says he can totally do a flip now—”
I nodded along, smiling, letting her words wash over me like a happy, babbling soundtrack. She was buckled into the back seat, sun-kissed and bright-eyed, summer stretching out in front of her like a promise.
Alex drove, one hand on the wheel, the other resting casually near mine. Every once in a while, he’d glance over with that soft, content look that made my chest ache in a good way.
Outside the windows, everything looked green and alive. Kids on bikes. Lawns dotted with sprinklers. The lazy glow of a warm morning that didn’t need to hurry anywhere.
Summer was here.
And for the first time in a long time, it didn’t feel lonely.
Ava kept talking about Leo, about pancakes, about all the important things a ten-year-old had to say, and I just listened, holding onto this quiet, precious feeling of something new taking root in my life.
“So how did practice go?” Ava asked from the back seat, finally pausing long enough to take a breath.
I smiled at her in the rearview mirror. “It went good. Really good.”
A few minutes later, we were pulling into our street, the familiar brick buildings and narrow stairs coming into view. Home. The place that still didn’t quite feel like it fit me anymore.
Alex dropped us off, and as we walked up to the door, I felt a little tug on my hand.
“Mom?”
“Yeah, sweetheart?”
“Do you love Alex?”
The question hit me straight in the chest.
I opened my mouth, then closed it again. I didn’t know what to say to her. I didn’t know what to say to myself.
Ava watched me with those too-wise eyes. “It’s okay if you do.”
“I . . . ” I swallowed. “I like him. I like spending time with him.”
Love felt too big. Too heavy.
“It’s a big word,” I said slowly. “It means a lot of different things.” I took a breath as I turned into our parking spot. “But I could see myself loving him someday.”
Ava’s face lit up. “Good.”
“Good?” I asked.
“Yeah,” she said, already reaching for her door. “Then me and Leo would be real brother and sister.”
And just like that, she bounded toward the stairs like she hadn’t just upended my whole emotional universe.
I sat there for a second, watching her go, heart aching and warm all at once.
It was strange realizing that my life didn’t feel like something that had already happened. It felt like something good was finally beginning.
Walking back into my mother’s house after Alex’s felt like stepping out of color and into black and white. His place was warmth and noise and half-finished mugs on the counter. It smelled like coffee and pancakes and life. It felt lived in.
This place was a museum. Everything was exactly where it was supposed to be. The air was cool and still. Even my footsteps felt too loud.
A woman I didn’t recognize was wiping down the already spotless dining table. She looked up when I came in, startled for a second before smoothing her expression into something polite.
“Oh—hello,” she said, her accent thick, Eastern European, maybe Polish or Ukrainian. “I am . . . sorry. You must be Eleanor?”
“Yes,” I said, thrown off. “And you are . . . ?”
“I am Katarina,” she said carefully. “I clean here now.”
“Where’s Belle?” I asked, already uneasy.
Katarina hesitated. “I do not know Belle. The agency sent me.”
My stomach dropped.
I found my mother in the living room, flipping through a magazine like the world was exactly as it should be.
“Where’s Belle?” I asked.
She didn’t even look up. “The agency sent someone else,” she said flatly, and then stood and walked out of the room.
Just like that.
The glow I’d been carrying with me, the warmth from pancakes and laughter and Alex’s arms, faded, replaced by the familiar weight in my chest.
This was my real life. And it was still cold.
Later that afternoon, Ava was on the driveway with a box of chalk, tongue between her teeth as she drew skulls and flames in bright, messy colors. They were fierce and beautiful, just like her.
The sun was warm but gentle, early June doing that perfect thing where everything felt possible, and nothing hurt too much yet. I sat in a lawn chair, sipping iced tea and watching her, letting myself pretend, just for a minute, that my life was simple.
My phone rang.
“Mel,” flashed across the screen, and I answered so fast I nearly dropped it.
“Hey—”
“Team meeting Tuesday,” Mel said without preamble.
“I’ll be there.”
“And,” she continued, “we’ve got a bout tomorrow in Columbus. You should try to come. Your first one won’t be for two weeks, but it’s good to see how it all works.”
“Yes,” I said immediately. “Yes, I can do that.”
“Becca said she’d be happy to watch Ava,” Mel added. “Leo’s already asking when you’ll be back.”
I laughed, breathless. “Of course he is.”
When I hung up, Ava looked up from her chalk masterpiece. “Why are you smiling like that?”
“I’m going to Columbus to see a bout. Do you want to play with Leo?” I asked, waiting for fireworks, cheers, something big.
She just nodded. “Good,” and went back to drawing a very dramatic flaming skull.
I snorted. You really never knew with Ava.
I texted Alex without even thinking, and he called me immediately.
“Are you free tomorrow?” I asked. “We have a bout in Columbus. I thought maybe we could drive together.”
“Yes,” he said instantly. “Absolutely.”
I hung up, heart light again, staring down the street and, just for a second, imagining what it would be like to live in that empty duplex next to him.
The thought didn’t scare me anymore.
It felt like a door cracking open.
I woke up already moving.
Bags on the bed. Clothes folded. Ava’s overnight things got stacked by the door. I was halfway through making coffee when I heard it. A scream, sharp and raw, cutting through the quiet morning.
I rushed to the front door.
My mother stood on the driveway with a hose, a brutal stream of water washing away the chalk drawings Ava had spent hours on the day before. Skulls. Flames. Bright, messy joy dissolving into colorful streaks.
Ava stood beside her, sobbing. “You can’t! I worked so hard on that! You’re ruining it!”
“March back into the house,” my mother snapped without even turning off the hose. “You’re not going anywhere today if you’re going to behave like this.”
Something in me broke.
I ran down the steps. “Ava,” I said, firm and clear. “Get in the car.”
My mother finally shut off the water and turned to me, one hand planted on her hip. “Excuse me? She is not going to play with her friend today after behaving like that.”
I laughed, short and sharp. “That’s funny. You’re not her parent.”
Her eyes flashed. “Eleanor—”
“Why did you destroy her art?” I demanded.
She started in on something about HOA rules and property values, but I was already done listening.
“We’re leaving,” I said. “Now.”
“Well, will you be back for dinner?” she asked coolly.
“I don’t know,” I said, and meant it.
I climbed into the driver’s seat, and Ava buckled in beside me, still sniffling. I pulled out of the driveway with more restraint than my teenage self ever would have managed.
No squealing tires. No reckless turns.
Just a quiet, furious exit with my kid beside me.
By the time I pulled up to Alex’s, Ava was still red-eyed and quiet, curled in on herself in the passenger seat like all the fight had leaked out of her.
Leo came tearing out of the front door the second he saw the car. “Ava!” he yelled, skidding to a stop by her door.
She didn’t answer him. Just stared out the window.
Leo looked back at me, confused and hurt, not knowing what was wrong. “Did I do something?”
“No, buddy,” I said gently. “She just . . . needs a minute.”
Alex was on the porch, watching us with that soft, concerned look that told me he was paying attention without intruding. Leo wandered up to him, shoulders slumped, and I caught Alex’s eye.
I held up my finger, motioning for one minute.
He nodded, easy and understanding, and put a hand on Leo’s shoulder. The fact that he knew how to handle kids with big feelings without making them feel small made everything better.
I turned back to Ava. “Hey, baby. What do you want to do?”
She sniffed. “I don’t know.”
“We can hang out here and watch a movie,” I said. “Or you can go play with Leo. Or we can go back to Grandma’s.”
Her face scrunched up like I’d suggested jumping into traffic. “No.”
“Okay,” I said softly. “What about a movie? Would you want Leo to watch with us?”
She nodded slowly. “Yeah… I can ask him.”
I watched as she climbed out of the car and walked up the steps to Leo, saying something I couldn’t hear. His face lit up instantly. He nodded hard, and a second later, they were heading inside together.
Alex stayed on the porch, giving me a small, curious smile.
“Everything okay?” he asked.
I took a breath. “Yeah. I think it will be.”