19. Chapter 19

Chapter 19

Sam

Time was my worst enemy.

Minutes felt like days.

Hours felt like weeks.

Days felt like an eternity.

I needed to see Ava again. It had only been a week, but it felt like forever. Even as I flew into Seattle, I knew I had to wait a day or so before I could go to her. Punishing myself, I stared at pictures of us when we had once been happy and smiling. My phone held a life that I once had yet lost. No one knew I was in Seattle, not even Lydia or Tyler.

I set the phone down, the images of us still flickering on the screen, haunting me with their silent laughter and unstated promises. The plush carpet felt too soft under my feet, a stark contrast to the hard knot in my stomach. Ava, with her gentle eyes and earnest love for authenticity, had seen through the facade of my confidence to the insecurities that lay beneath.

"Can I be what she needs?" I whispered into the silence of the apartment, my voice sounding foreign in the vastness. "Can I change?"

The answer was a resounding need that pulsed through my veins, a determination that was almost palpable. She deserved better; the best of me, not the cage I'd tried to keep her in. A part of me feared it was already too late—that I had pushed her too far—but another part, perhaps the part that truly loved her, clung to hope.

With shaking hands, I picked up the phone again, thumb hovering over her contact. The familiar rush of anxiety swelled within me, threatening to choke my courage before it could fully surface. But this time, something was different. This time, there was an undercurrent of strength born from a raw place inside—a place that knew I couldn't let my fear dictate my future, our future.

"Come on, Sam, you owe her this much," I coaxed myself, feeling the weight of every moment we'd shared pressing against my chest like a physical force.

Taking a deep breath, I touched the call button and listened to the dial tone, each ring a tightening coil in my gut. When it went to voicemail, a part of me felt relieved—no immediate confrontation, no chance for immediate rejection. But there was work to be done, amends to be made, and I wasn't going to back down now.

"Hey, Ava, it's me—Sam," I began, my voice steadier than I felt. "I've been thinking about us a lot lately and everything that happened in Miami."

I paused, collecting my thoughts, knowing this might be my only chance to get it right. "I know I hurt you, and I'm so sorry. My actions, my... possessiveness, it wasn't fair to you. You're your own person, incredibly talented, kind, and everything I aspire to be."

There was a vulnerability in admitting my faults, a raw edge to laying my feelings bare, but it was necessary. "I love you, Ava. That's never changed, not even for a second. And if you're willing to give me a chance, I want to show you how much I've learned and support you exactly as you are."

The words tumbled out, laced with regret and hope, a hope that felt like the first ray of sunlight after a stormy night. "Anyway, I'll be here, hoping we can talk. Take care of yourself, okay?"

Ending the call, I let out the breath I hadn't realized I was holding. It was out there now, my heart wrapped in a digital message, waiting for Ava to receive it. And as I stood there, staring at the device that connected our separate worlds, I understood that this was just the beginning. The real work and change, would come when we faced each other again.

A chime cuts through the stillness, slicing the tension with surgical precision. My heart leaped into my throat as I rushed over to the device. Ava's name glowed on the screen, a beacon in the tempest of my fears.

Ava: Sam... I think we should meet. Can we talk?

The message started simple and unassuming, yet it held the weight of worlds.

Relief collided with apprehension, blossoming into an overwhelming surge of emotions. She wanted to see me. To talk. Was this a sign? Could this be our second chance?

Me: Of course. When and where?

I typed back, my fingers trembling as they danced across the screen.

I hit send before doubt could seize me again, before I could second-guess the eagerness in my reply. As I waited for her response, I found myself pacing once more, the action now infused with a jittery blend of hope and nerves. I ran a hand through my black hair, trying to imagine what Ava might say and how I could convey the depth of my remorse and the sincerity of my intentions.

My phone vibrated, and I nearly tripped over the edge of the rug in my haste.

Ava:Tomorrow. The little café by the park. 3 PM.

Me: See you then.

I responded, though my chest tightened at the thought of all the ways tomorrow could unfold. I had twenty-four hours to prepare, gather the strength to face Ava, and show her the person I was striving to become.

I placed the phone down with purpose this time, my decision made. Tomorrow, I will lay my soul bare. For Ava, for us, for the future that hung delicately in the balance. It was time to step into the unknown, propelled by love and the determination to improve. For her. For me. For the possibility that still flickered, fragile and precious, between us.