Chapter 43
Chapter forty-three
Ava
While Elijah runs the bath, my mind won’t stop racing. Just a few hours ago, I was at the store, laughing with my best friend, still glowing from waking up in Eli’s arms. Another morning, another ordinary day that felt anything but. And then—like flipping a switch—everything collapsed.
All because… I don’t even know why.
I’m so lost in the storm inside my head that I don’t even notice when Elijah comes back into the room. I flinch when his hand gently touches my arm.
“Hey, babe, it’s me. Elijah. I’m sorry—I didn’t mean to scare you.”
His voice is soft, careful. But there’s a fire behind his eyes, a fury barely contained. I know it’s not for me. Deep down, I know it’s for George and Henry—for what they did, for taking me from him.
Still, a small voice inside whispers that maybe it is about me. That maybe, after everything, he won’t look at me the same. That I’ll be too broken in his eyes. Too damaged.
“I’m sorry… I didn’t hear you come in,” I mumble.
“You don’t have to apologize, Ava.” He kneels in front of me. “You’re still in shock. That’s completely normal.”
God, how perfect can this man be?
“Eli…” I swallow hard. “I think… I think I want to talk. About what happened. With you and the others. I don’t think I can survive repeating it over and over again.”
I say it before I lose the nerve—before the fear of being abandoned swallows me whole. George’s words echo in my head, poisoning my hope. But I need to believe they were lies. Because if Elijah leaves me now… I don’t know how I’ll survive it.
He nods, his expression steady. “Okay. After dinner, we’ll talk. All of us, if you’re ready. But first, let’s get you into that bath. It’ll help you relax a bit.”
And for the first time since this nightmare started, I let myself hope again.
After a bath that could rival any luxury spa in the city, I feel like I can finally breathe again—just a little.
Elijah washed my hair with those strong, gentle hands of his, massaging my scalp like he was trying to pull the trauma out strand by strand.
He used the same shampoo and conditioner I always use—same brand, same scent—and even applied a deep-conditioning mask.
I’m not sure if he asked Mia to bring them or if she somehow knew exactly what I’d want, but the familiar scent grounds me. It reminds me that I’m still me.
He took his time, never rushing, never pushing.
When it came time to wash the rest of me, he did it with a reverence I wasn’t ready for.
His touch was soft, deliberate—more comforting than cleansing—and it broke me.
I started crying again, quietly at first, but then harder, and he just held me, arms wrapped around me as the warm water turned cool.
Not once did he seem frustrated or impatient. He didn’t try to stop my tears. He just stayed with me until I was ready.
When the water got too cold, he wrapped me in a huge, impossibly soft towel and carried me back to bed. Fresh clothes were waiting. I looked at them, confused.
“I asked Mia to bring your favorite things,” Elijah said softly. “And Asher brought over some of my stuff too… so if you want to wear one of my shirts, like always, they’re right there.”
Tears prick my eyes again—not from sadness this time, but because of how deeply he knows me.
“Thank you, I’d like—” My voice falters, and I hate that I can’t finish the sentence.
He leans in closer, eyes searching mine. “Do you want one of my shirts? One that smells like me?”
I nod.
That’s all he needs. He hands me one, and in that moment, I feel like I might actually be okay again someday.
Once we’re both dressed, Elijah sits me gently in front of the mirror. I start my nighttime skincare routine while he stands behind me, quietly combing through my damp hair with the kind of care that makes my chest ache. When he begins to braid it, I can't help but smile.
This man… this man knows how to care for a woman.
I’ve seen his own routine before—his bathroom counter is practically overflowing with products, half of which I didn’t even know existed until I met him. To say Elijah takes care of himself is an understatement.
“Who taught you how to braid?” I ask, watching his hands move gently through my hair.
“When I started growing mine out, my mom sat me down and taught me how to take care of it properly. Said if I wanted to wear it long, I had to respect it.”
There’s nostalgia in his voice, and I feel it settle in my chest.
“Do you miss her?”
He pauses for just a second, then answers quietly, “Every day, babe… every day.”
He finishes the braid with a soft hair tie and kisses the top of my head. “You ready?”
I glance at my reflection. My eyes still look a little puffy, but there’s a steadiness returning to them. I take a deep breath, stand up, and nod. “Yeah. Let’s go.”
Elijah takes my hand and lifts it to his lips, pressing a gentle kiss to my knuckles.
“If at any point it feels like too much, just say the word and we stop. Okay?”
“Yeah. Thanks,” I whisper.
He doesn’t let go of my hand. “Ava… I want you to know something. I love you. I’m so damn glad we found you when we did. And… I know we still need to talk about the tracker.”
His eyes drop to my wrist, and instinctively, I raise my hand to look at the bracelet still fastened there. With my free hand, I trace the tiny metal dahlia that holds the hidden device. It should feel invasive—but it doesn’t. Not now. It feels like protection. Like a promise.
“Yeah… we’ll talk about it. But honestly?” I meet his gaze, steady and sincere. “As crazy as it sounds… I’m glad you did it. If it weren’t for this little flower, I don’t know if I’d be here right now. You found me because of it. You saved me.”
“Always, baby girl,” he says, pulling me gently into his arms. “Always.”
Elijah doesn’t rush me.
We stand there for a moment, holding each other in silence—just the soft hum of the house around us. Then, with one last kiss to my forehead, he laces our fingers together and gently guides me toward the door.
The hallway is quiet as we make our way to the stairs, but as we get closer to the main living area, I can hear faint voices—familiar ones.
Laughter.
It’s not loud or careless. It’s soft, careful—like they’re trying to stay light for my sake.
I stop at the top of the stairs, and Elijah feels it immediately. He turns to me, his expression calm but attentive.
“You sure?” he asks softly.
I nod, even though my stomach is tight. “Yeah… just give me a second.”
He waits patiently while I gather myself. One deep breath.
Then another. And then we descend together, hand in hand.
As soon as we step into view, the conversation below stops.
Mia is the first to react—her eyes fill with tears, and she rushes toward me without hesitation. I let go of Elijah’s hand long enough to fall into hers.
“Oh my God, Ava,” she breathes out, hugging me tightly.
“I was so scared. I'm so happy you’re home now.”
“I’m here,” I whisper, my voice cracking. “I’m okay.”
Sophia is next, her arms wrapping around both of us. The warmth of them grounds me. I didn’t realize how much I missed the safety of this—of them—until I was back in it.
Elijah steps back slightly, giving me space, but I can still feel his presence like a shield at my back. He won’t go far. Not now.
The rest of the team is nearby—Kaleb, Keller, Kade, Kai, even Asher, all standing with quiet respect. No one says anything overwhelming. There are no rushed questions or heavy comments. Just nods of acknowledgment, soft eyes, and the unspoken understanding that the worst is over… for now.
Someone serves me a hot bowl of leek and potato soup, something simple, warm, and comforting. I think it might be Mia’s doing, because it's my favorite and she knows it. I offer her a tired smile as I sit down. Elijah takes the seat beside me, close enough to touch, but not crowding.
I take slow, careful spoonfuls. I’m not hungry, but I know Elijah will be calmer if I eat. The warm, creamy soup settles in my stomach, easing something deeper than hunger. Everyone’s giving me room to breathe. I appreciate it more than I can say.
Eventually, I glance at Elijah, who’s watching me with quiet affection. I lean into him, resting my head on his shoulder.
This is the beginning of healing. It won’t be easy, and there are things I still need to say, stories I need to share when I’m ready. But tonight… I’m not alone. I’m home. And he’s with me.
After dinner, Asher offered to drive Mia home. Sophia disappeared quietly too—I'm not sure with who, but I assume someone took her home. Everyone respected my space tonight, and I appreciate that more than I can say.
Elijah and I stand outside Kade’s office—the same place where we once had to bare one of our most intimate moments. It feels distant now, like something that happened to someone else.
Before we go in, I stop him with a hand on his chest.
“Elijah… before we go in there, I need to tell you something.”
He studies my face, immediately catching the shift in my tone. Without hesitation, he turns to the others and says, “We’ll be in shortly.”
The guys nod and step into the office, leaving us alone in the hallway.
“If you don’t want to do this right now,” he says gently, “we can wait. There’s no pressure.”
I shake my head. “No, that’s not it. I want to talk. I know it’s important… It’s just—before I tell you everything I remember, I need to say something first.”
He doesn’t interrupt, just listens with that steady gaze that always makes me feel safe.
I take a breath.
“I need you to know that I’ll understand. If, after hearing everything… you decide you don’t want to be with me anymore. I mean it. You’re not obligated to stay. You’ve already done more than enough. So… if you walk away after this, I’ll understand.”
For a heartbeat, the hallway feels too quiet, like the world paused to hear whether my biggest fear will come true.
In my mind, a thousand voices scream at once—Please don’t leave me. Choose me. Nobody ever chooses me.