Ava's POV
Flashback high school day one
I stood outside the school gates, sunglasses on even though it wasn't that bright. My arms were crossed, but mostly because I didn't know what else to do with them. My hands were twitching.
Sebastian didn't even look back.
He walked in — tall, broad-shouldered, bag slung over one side like he was in a teenage Netflix drama. His hair flopped perfectly. His sneakers were clean. And he didn't look back. Not once.
Not for me.
Not for the woman who used to hold his hand when he crossed the street. Who used to pack three different kinds of snacks because "what if he changes his mind mid-day?" Who used to write you got this! on the inside of his lunch box lid.
I watched him vanish into the hallway like I didn't exist.
I don't even remember walking to the car.
Ray was leaning against it, arms folded, sunglasses on, wearing that navy shirt I always liked — the one that made him look like an accidental model. He looked at me once and then looked away, like he knew.
Because of course he did.
I climbed into the passenger seat and slammed the door.
Five seconds passed.
I didn't say anything.
Ten seconds.
He didn't either.
Then I cracked. "He didn't even turn around, Ray!"
Ray glanced at me briefly before looking back at the road. "He's fifteen."
"I know he's fifteen, but he used to wave. Just last year he'd wave. What changed? I didn't change."
Ray didn't answer.
"And he rolled his eyes this morning when I asked if he wanted pancakes! I've made him pancakes since he was two. I just—I just—what if he doesn't need me anymore?"
My voice broke on the last part.
Ray reached across the console, wordlessly. I didn't even hesitate — I launched myself sideways, curling into his chest like a scared little girl. And there, in the front seat of his car, I cried.
Ugly cried.
Mascara-down-my-face cried.
"He's my whole heart," I whispered, fists curling into his shirt. "And he doesn't need me anymore. I'm proud of him, I swear I am. But also—I hate this. I hate it."
Ray's arms closed around me tighter, hand smoothing over my hair. His voice was barely a whisper. "He still needs you, Ava. He always will. He's just… figuring out how."
"I don't know how to let go," I admitted into his chest. "I thought I would by now. I thought I was doing okay, but then he walked in there, and he didn't even look back. And suddenly I was back in front of that kindergarten gate, holding a baby who wouldn't stop crying."
Ray's fingers stilled.
Then he whispered, "You were crying more than he was."
"I bonded with his sock," I sniffled.
Ray chuckled quietly into my hair. "I remember."
"I'm being so dramatic."
"You always are."
I smacked his arm. Then stayed there, pressed against him, heart raw and wide open.
Because even now… he was the only place I could fall apart.