Chapter 2
Chapter two
Avery
But the words won’t come easily because talking about Oliver means admitting that seeing him shattered my careful composure and acknowledging that maybe I’m not as over it as I thought.
Jessica doesn't push; she just waits, the way she's been doing for the first two weeks, the only person who saw me fall apart on the bathroom floor the night I caught Oliver cheating.
She held me while I sobbed, told me I wasn't overreacting, and told me I had every right to walk away.
I take a shaky breath, my fingers wrapping around hers. "Those white roses he brought…" I pause, feeling my throat tighten.
"The same kind from your first date?" Jessica's voice carries an edge of disgust.
I nod. The memory of that first date feels tainted now, poisoned by everything that came after. Twenty-four white roses.
"What did he say?" Jessica asks, though her clenched jaw suggests she'd rather not know.
"He started with my name. Then something about not deserving me..." I trail off, the panic from this morning threatening to resurface. "I couldn't stay there. I just ran."
"Where did you go?"
Heat creeps up my neck. "Dylan's office."
Jessica's eyebrows lift slightly. "Dylan Vance? Your boss whom you definitely don't have feelings for?"
"Jess—"
"The one who keeps you late for meetings and whose coffee order you know by heart?"
"I didn't even think about it, okay? My feet just carried me there, and I..." My cheeks go red as I remember every detail of my embarrassment. "I burst in without knocking."
Jessica shifts on the couch, all ears, tucking her legs underneath her. "What did he do?"
"He... took one look at me and knew something was wrong. He…" I pause, remembering the gentle touch, the protective fury in his eyes. I can feel the smile spreading across my face before I even realize it's there.
"Oh my God, look at your face right now!" Jessica points at me, grinning.
"Shut up," I laugh, hiding behind my wine glass.
"No, seriously, you're literally glowing. What did he do?"
"Nothing. He just brushed my hair back," I admit, feeling heat creep up my neck. "And asked if someone was bothering me. He looked ready to tear Oliver apart, but he didn't make a scene. He just... protected me. Called security to have Oliver removed."
"He brushed your hair back?" Jessica clutches her chest dramatically. "Avery. That's like, romance novel level swoon-worthy."
"Stop it!" I'm laughing now, even as my cheeks burn. "He texted me earlier, just to make sure I got home safe."
Jessica leans forward, eyes sparkling with mischief. "Girl, that man is gone for you."
"You think?" The question comes out more hopeful than I intended.
"I know." She reaches across to squeeze my hand. "And more importantly? You're completely gone for him too."
My breath catches.
"That terrifies me," I admit.
"Why?"
"Because letting him in means being vulnerable again and risking everything I've spent weeks rebuilding." I pull my knees to my chest, making myself smaller. "I have a plan, remember? Two years of no dating. None of the danger. Just healing."
"Plans change," Jessica says gently.
"Not this one. I can't survive another Oliver."
"Dylan isn't Oliver."
"I thought Oliver wasn't Oliver either, until he was."
Jessica shifts to face me fully. "Can I tell you what I see?"
I nod, bracing myself.
"I see my sister, who's stronger than before. A woman who ran toward safety today, and that safety happened to be a man who immediately put her needs first. I see someone who deserves to be happy, even if it's scary."
"I'm not ready," I whisper.
"Maybe not," Jessica agrees. "But ready or not, something's already changing between you two. Pretending that it isn't won't make it go away."
She's right, and that's what scares me most. Three months of professional distance, of careful boundaries, and one moment of vulnerability brought it all crashing down. The way Dylan looked at me today, the way he's always looked at me, like I'm something precious and fierce all at once.
"I should quit," I say, not meaning it.
Jessica laughs. "But you love that job. You like the challenge. And maybe you like Dy—"
"Oh my god, stop! You’re unbearable," I cut her off.
"I love you too, sis." She throws a pillow at me.
We talk for another hour, dissecting every interaction with Dylan over the past three months.
The way he always walks me to my car when we work late.
How he remembers every case I've mentioned, asking follow-up questions weeks later.
The way his hand hovers at the small of my back when we walk through doorways, never quite touching but always there.
After she leaves, I pour myself another glass of the wine and curl up in my reading chair.
The city sparkles beyond my windows, and somewhere out there, Dylan's probably still at the office, working on the Miller acquisition.
I know because I checked the shared calendar earlier, a habit I've been unable to break.
My phone buzzes. Another text from Dylan: I know you said you're fine, but if you need anything this weekend, even just someone to talk to, I'm here.
I stare at the message, my heart hammers in my chest. He's being everything Oliver never was.
I type back: Thank you. That means more than you think.
Three dots appear immediately: You never have to thank me for caring about you, Avery.
The words sink into my chest, warming places that have been left cold after Oliver. I let myself imagine what it might be like to let someone see all of me again, with all my scars and fears and hopes. My carefully constructed walls are crumbling.
And the terrifying truth is that maybe Jessica's right. Maybe I don't want to rebuild them.
Security has Oliver's photo now. He won't bother you at work again. Sweet dreams, Avery. You're safe.
I can feel the smile spreading across my face again. I think about Monday morning, walking into the office knowing Oliver can't follow. Knowing Dylan made sure of it. The feeling is heady, dangerous in its sweetness.
I finish my wine and head to bed, but sleep doesn't come easily. Every time I close my eyes, I see gray eyes dark with protective fury. I hear that growl in his voice when he said Oliver made a mistake.
I'm not sure I'd survive Dylan Vance doing the same… And yet, lying here in the dark, rereading his messages over and over again, I'm starting to think he might be worth the risk.