12. Chapter 12

Chapter 12

Sam

Weeks went by, and we never heard from Ben again.

Tyler called him and told him not to bother Ava, and thankfully, he listened. I had gone back to work, and Ava spent her days at home, working on her computer during the day and spending our evenings having sex and falling asleep in one another's arms.

Our lives consisted of one another, and nothing else seemed to matter. There were days that I felt guilty for spending so many hours at work, but I just reminded myself that working allowed me to buy Ava whatever she wanted. Eventually, I wanted to get us a house.

Everything was perfect... until it wasn't.

The first time I felt it—the twist in my gut, the clench of my heart—was trivial, really. Ava had just stepped out to grab a coffee from the corner shop. But as the minutes ticked by and I stared at my phone, a strange unease settled over me. She should've been back by now.

"Probably just a long line," I muttered to myself, trying to shake off the feeling. Yet, I couldn't help but text her, "Everything okay?"

"Yep, I just met a neighbor. Be back soon!" Ava's reply popped up, accompanied by a smiley face.

"Met a neighbor" echoed in my mind. Who was this neighbor? Male, female? Did it matter? A sigh escaped my lips. It shouldn't, but the thought of Ava chatting with someone else, potentially sharing a laugh or a moment, sent a ripple of discomfort through me that I couldn't quite grasp.

"Who's your new friend?" I casually asked when she returned, a latte in hand.

"Her name's Jess," Ava said, her voice light, unaware of the storm brewing inside me. "She's invited us to a small get-together she's hosting next weekend."

"Us?" The word came out sharper than I intended.

"Of course, 'us,'" Ava chuckled. "We're a package deal, aren't we?"

"Right, a package deal," I echoed, forcing a smile while my insides knotted further. Jealousy had reared its ugly head. I wasn't proud of myself for acting like a childish brat, but I couldn't help it. When it came to Ava, I was irrational.

Days passed, and I began asking more questions, wanting to know who Ava texted, why she'd come home later than usual when she went out, and what made her laugh so hard on the phone. Each query felt like a misstep, yet I couldn't stop. My need to be entrenched in every facet of her life grew, overshadowing the trust I knew I should have had.

"Sam, can we talk?" Ava finally said one evening, her kind eyes tinged with concern. I braced myself.

"Sure, what's up?"

"It's just..." she hesitated, choosing her words carefully. "I feel a bit suffocated, you know? Like I must report everything I do to you. I need some breathing space."

"Breathing space?" I repeated, the phrase stinging more than I anticipated.

"Yes," Ava continued, her voice stronger. "I moved here for us, but I still need to be me. To have my own experiences, meet new people without feeling like I'm doing something wrong."

"Wrong? No, you're not doing anything wrong," I stumbled over the words, the realization hitting me like a wave. "It's me. I don't know why I've been so... clingy."

"Sam, I love you, but this possessiveness—it's not healthy." Ava reached out, her touch meant to reassure me, but I could sense the steel behind her softness.

"Okay," I nodded, swallowing the lump in my throat. "I'll try to give you space. And I promise to show you how much you mean to me more. I know that sounds ironic, but I will give you what you need." My admission was a whisper, a promise to the woman I loved and myself. But as Ava smiled and kissed my cheek, I wondered if my desire to hold on too tightly had already set cracks into the foundation of our fresh start.