Ava didn't sleep.
She lay in bed staring at the ceiling, the room dark except for the soft glow from the city outside her window. Her body was still, but her mind kept running. The sound of Damien's voice. The weight of his hand on her waist. The warmth of his kiss. It wasn't rushed or desperate. It was soft. Honest. Real.
And it scared her.
Because it made her question everything she thought she knew.
But what shook her even more wasn't Damien.
It was Julian.
He had been there for years—quiet, steady, safe.
But now she couldn't ignore the truth sitting in her chest: he'd known.
He'd known about the recording.
He'd let her believe Damien had destroyed her father, let her drown in anger and pain while pretending to protect her.
And he hadn't said a word.
When morning came, she didn't wait to run into him at the office.
She pulled out her phone and typed without hesitation.
"We need to talk. Not at Easton."
His reply came fast.
"Anywhere. Just name it."
She chose the small coffee shop on 46th. The one they always used to meet at when they wanted to talk without being seen. The one that once felt like theirs.
Julian was already sitting at the corner table when she walked in. He stood up like he always did, like a habit he'd never broken.
She didn't smile.
And he didn't try to fake one either.
"Ava," he said softly.
"Don't," she said. "Not yet."
They sat down. The waitress came over, but Ava shook her head. She wasn't here for coffee.
Just the truth.
She looked him dead in the eyes. "You knew about the recording."
He didn't pretend not to understand. "Yes."
Her stomach turned.
"How long?"
"Since right after your father passed," Julian said, voice low. "Lucien showed it to me. Said your father would have wanted someone to know."
Ava blinked, hard. "And you didn't think I deserved to?"
"I thought you needed time."
"You thought I needed lies."
Julian's face fell. "It wasn't a lie. I just… didn't tell you the full truth."
"That's the same thing."
He looked down at his hands. "I was trying to protect you."
"That's not your job," she said. "That was never your job."
There was a long silence between them. She could feel his regret—maybe even his shame—but it didn't fix what had already been broken.
"You let me build my life on hate," Ava said quietly. "You let me believe Damien was the one who ruined everything. You watched me swear revenge—and you said nothing."
"I was scared," Julian admitted. "Scared that if you knew… everything would change."
"It has."
Julian nodded slowly. "I know."
Ava leaned back in her chair, her hands resting in her lap.
"I don't even know who you are anymore."
"I'm still me," Julian said. "Still the same man who showed up every day, who watched you grow stronger, who wanted you to win."
"Even if it was built on the wrong truth?"
"I didn't know how to give you the right one," he said. "Not without losing you."
Ava swallowed the lump forming in her throat. "You lost me anyway."
Julian looked like he'd been hit in the chest.
His voice dropped. "I love you, Ava."
She blinked, surprised at how little it shook her.
Once, she might have cried hearing that.
Now?
It only made her feel sad.
"I know," she said. "And maybe that's why this hurts more."
He reached across the table, but she didn't move.
"I was the one who stayed," he whispered. "The one who stood by you when everything fell apart."
"I know," she said. "And I'll always be thankful for that."
"But?"
"But I don't trust you like I used to."
Julian pulled his hand back. Slowly. Like something inside him was cracking.
"I never wanted to hurt you."
"You didn't mean to," she said softly. "But you did."
The waitress came back with a refill for Julian. He didn't touch it.
Ava stood.
"I need time to figure out what comes next," she said.
"Does that mean it's over?"
She paused, looking at him.
"I don't know what it is anymore."
Then she walked out, leaving him sitting at the table with his untouched coffee and a heart she couldn't carry anymore.
Outside, the air was cool, but not cold. Ava pulled her coat tighter and started walking.
The city moved around her. People on phones, cars honking, delivery bikes zipping through yellow lights.
But her world was still. Quiet. Distant.
Everything that had once felt solid—her anger, her purpose, her comfort in Julian—was shifting under her feet.
And Damien…
She thought of his eyes, the way he didn't try to control her, didn't beg for understanding. He just stood there, honest. Raw. Real.
And the kiss?
It wasn't perfect.
It was better.
Because it had felt earned.
By the time she reached the corner of 3rd Avenue, her phone buzzed.
Damien: "Did you talk to him?"
She stared at the message for a long time.
Then replied.
Ava: "Yes."
Damien: "Are you okay?"
She hesitated.
Then:
Ava: "I'm not sure. But I think I'm done running."
There was no reply for a while.
Then her phone lit up again.
Damien: "Then come see me."
She didn't answer right away.
But she didn't delete the message either.
Because maybe, for once, she wasn't afraid of what would happen if she said yes.
Maybe she was just afraid of what would happen if she didn't.