Chapter 7 Ava
Chapter seven
Ava
I can’t believe I agreed to this. The whole night feels like one awkward stumble after another.
Henry — the guy I matched with on the dating app — hasn’t stopped talking about himself.
Or worse, complaining about his ex. I try to smile, nod, keep things polite, but inside, I’m counting the minutes until it’s over.
Finally, he offers to drive me home. Relief floods me, but I hesitate, then say, “Actually, can you drop me off at the store instead? I need to pick something up.”
He shrugs but agrees. As soon as the car stops in front of the store, my heart beats a little faster. This should be simple — just a quick goodbye.
But then Henry leans toward me, and before I can think, he tries to kiss me.
My body stiffens. I pull back sharply. “No,” I say firmly.
His smile fades instantly, replaced by something cold and confused. “Come on, Ava, don’t be like that.”
I shake my head, panic rising. “I said no. Please.”
His eyes darken, and suddenly, he’s angry — like I just ruined his whole night. I’m scrambling, searching for my purse and get out of the car.
“I’m leaving,” I say, voice shaking.
He laughs, but it’s not a joking sound. I shove the door open and step out, the cold night air hitting me hard. My heart races as I lock the door behind me.
This isn’t how I wanted the night to end. I just want to disappear into the store, pretend none of this happened.
But I can still feel his eyes on me — and it's freaking me out.
I thought a few dates would take my mind off Elijah. That maybe, if I tried hard enough, I’d forget how much space he takes up in my heart. But the truth is — all night long, all I thought about was him.
Every time Henry opened his mouth, I imagined how Elijah would never talk to me like that. He wouldn’t ramble on about exes or make me feel small. I don’t even know much about his past relationships, but I know he’d never make me feel like an obligation.
And when Henry leaned in to kiss me, I didn’t just pull back — I panicked. It felt like cheating. Like I was betraying someone I hadn’t even committed to yet. Because Elijah would never force me, never corner me like that.
And right now, the only thing I want is to see him, to hug him, and maybe… finally say yes. That I do want something more. Even if the thought of him breaking my heart still paralyzes me.
I dig through my purse, trying to find my phone.
My hands are trembling. I keep thinking I hear something outside — maybe just the wind, maybe not. Then I feel it — a presence at the door.
My breath catches.
There’s a silhouette just beyond the glass, but the light in the entryway is off. I can’t make out who it is.
My pulse spikes as I walk quickly to the counter to flip the switch. If it’s Elijah, he’d say something. He knows how easily I spook. I fumble for the right switch and flip it—light floods the entryway.
But the figure is gone.
I stumble back, heart in my throat, and finally grab my phone. I don’t think, I just scroll to his name and call.
Two rings.
“Ava?” Elijah’s voice is immediate, concerned.
“Is everything okay?”
I try to answer, but nothing comes out. The silence stretches for a second too long.
“Ava, baby girl,” he says again, his voice edging toward panic. “Where are you?”
“At the store,” I whisper, just as a loud bang hits one of the front windows.
I scream.
“Ava!!” he yells through the phone. “I’m coming, baby, don’t hang up on me!”
I nod even though he can’t see me. My body is shaking so hard, I can barely hold the phone. Minutes stretch like hours until I hear him.
Knocking.
“Ava, it’s me! Let me in!” he calls through the door.
I rush forward but can’t get my hands to work.
The keys slip in my grip. I can see him through the glass — eyes locked on mine, concern etched in every line of his face.
“Hey, look at me,” he says gently, his voice like a lifeline. “Breathe, baby girl . I’m here. I won’t leave you alone.”
Baby girl. After everything I did to push him away, everything I kept buried, he still calls me that.
He still comes. No hesitation.
God, how could I be so stupid?
“Ava, baby,” Elijah says softly, his hand against the door. “I’m gonna let myself in with my key, okay?”
I nod. That’s all I can do.
And just like that, he’s inside — wrapping me up in his arms like he’s never letting go
As soon as Elijah steps inside, I crumble.
The moment his arms wrap around me, the adrenaline drains from my body like someone pulled the plug.
My knees give out, and he catches me before I hit the floor, holding me tight against his chest. I press my face into his hoodie, and the smell of him—clean soap, a hint of ink, and something warm and familiar—undoes me completely.
“I’m here,” he whispers, one hand cradling the back of my head, the other rubbing slow, steady circles on my back. “You’re safe, Ava. I’ve got you.”
That’s all it takes.
The sob tears out of me without warning, loud and messy.
My whole body shakes with it. I try to hold it back, try to stay quiet, but it’s no use.
Everything crashes down—fear, shame, the tension of pretending I’m okay when I’m not.
And Elijah just holds me through it, not saying a word. Just being there.
My hands clutch his hoodie like a lifeline, and through broken breaths, I finally manage, “I was so scared.”
“I know,” he murmurs, rocking us slightly. “I know, baby.”
His voice is so gentle, it hurts. And the worst part?
I almost didn’t call him. I almost convinced myself he wouldn’t come. But here he is—heart wide open, no questions asked.
“I thought… I thought if I went out with someone else, maybe it would help,” I whisper, voice muffled against him. “That maybe I’d stop thinking about you. But the whole time, all I could think about was how much I wished it was you sitting across from me.”
He stiffens just slightly, but his grip on me never loosens.
He doesn’t respond right away. Just rubs small, calming circles on my back.
“I didn’t even let him kiss me,” I say. “It felt wrong. Like I was betraying something I hadn’t even let myself admit.”
Finally, Elijah speaks—quiet, steady. “You don’t owe me anything, Ava. But… I’m glad it felt wrong.”
I lift my head, eyes rimmed with tears. “I don’t want anyone else.”
He exhales slowly, forehead resting against mine. “You don’t have to say that because you’re scared.”
“I’m saying it because it’s true.”
His hands cup my face then, his thumbs brushing away what’s left of the tears. “Then let’s take this slow. No pressure, no fear. Just you and me. If you need space, I’ll give it to you. But ... I’m here, baby girl. I’ve always been here.”
Elijah exhales like he’s been holding his breath for days.
I nod, too overwhelmed to speak. He kisses my forehead—soft, reverent. Not asking for more. Just promising.
I lift my head just enough to look at him. His thumb brushes the tears from my cheeks like I’m something breakable. And maybe I am.
“I’m scared,” I admit. “You could break my heart.”
He nods, eyes locked on mine. “And you could shatter mine. But I’d still choose you.”
Something in me cracks wide open at those words. And for the first time in what feels like forever, I don’t feel like I’m falling apart. I feel like maybe—just maybe—I’m falling into something safe.
I don’t know how long we stay like that—tangled up in each other, hearts racing, the store around us quiet and dim except for the hum of the fridge and the light over the counter.
But at some point, the storm inside me starts to quiet.
My breathing slows, and I shift just enough to rest my head against Elijah’s shoulder.
“I don’t want to be alone tonight,” I whisper, the words so quiet I’m not even sure I said them out loud.
But he hears me.
“You won’t be,” he says immediately, without hesitation. “I’ll stay. As long as you want me to.”
I nod against his chest, something soft and small blooming in my chest. He doesn’t ask for more, Doesn’t push. He just gently helps stand and brushes the hair from my face like I’m the most precious thing in the world.
“Come on,” he says. “Let’s lock up and get you home, okay?”
We move around the shop slowly—me still shaky, him quiet and steady beside me.
I don’t remember how we even made it to the car. My legs feel like jelly, and my hands are still trembling as Elijah guides me gently, a steady hand on my back, like he's afraid I might disappear if he lets go.
He doesn’t say much on the drive to my house. Just glances over now and then, like he’s making sure I’m still breathing. And honestly? I need silence more than words right now. His presence says enough.
When we pull into the parking lot, he parks, turns off the engine, and looks over.
Inside, everything feels too quiet. The familiar safety of my home feels distant—like the fear from earlier is still hiding in the shadows. I set my bag down with shaking hands, and when I turn around, Elijah’s standing there in the entryway, unsure, like he’s waiting for me to change my mind.
I don’t.
“Will you stay here with me tonight?” I ask, gesturing to the couch or maybe the floor—I’m not even sure what I mean, but I just… need him close.
His voice is a murmur. “I’ll stay wherever you want me.”
“I want…” I trail off, fingers twisting the hem of my sweater. “I want you close.”
That’s all he needs.
Elijah shrugs off his hoodie and kicks off his boots. I go to the bathroom, wash my face, brush my teeth, I leave a spare toothbrush for him, and when I come back, he’s sitting at the edge of the bed, not under the covers, waiting for permission.
“I left a toothbrush for you in the bathroom.” - I say with small voice
When he comes back, he just stands there looking at me.
“You can sit,” I say softly. “Or… I mean, if you want. I just... I don’t want to be alone.”
His expression softens. “I’m not going anywhere.”
“You can lay down,” I whisper.