"She was never mine, but I never stopped wanting her to be."
—Darien Crest
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Darien's Point of View
The first time I met Ava was in college. I remember it clearly—the library, quiet except for the low hum of the air conditioner and the occasional shuffle of pages. She was seated by the window, her head bent over a thick novel, her lips twitching as if she were living inside the story. Her hazel eyes glistened every time she turned a page, alive with a spark I'd never seen before.
I had plopped down at the far end opposite her, pretending to read, but in truth, I was watching her. The way she scrunched her nose when she found something funny, the way her hair slipped over her shoulder and she impatiently tucked it back. She didn't notice me—not once. She didn't notice the world around her. She was lost in her book, and I was just as lost, drowning in her smile.
