Ava's POV
The only thing I could think of when I woke up was how uncomfortable I felt.
The Collins Mansion had always been like that, too quiet, too big, too empty, well for me at least.
For a long time, I just stayed in bed staring at the ceiling.
It was still the same color.
Nothing had exactly changed, not even the little crack in the corner.
I remembered it was from when Blake and I threw a ball inside the house and broke Father's rare vase.
I remembered how he had scolded only me for it.
Blake was standing right beside me, but somehow father only blamed me for it.
Some things never changed.
I finally stood up from the bed, as I wrapped my robe around me.
My head ached slightly from lack of sleep.
I knew exactly why.
It was the memories I had of this house, memories I tried so hard to forget.
When I stepped out into the hallway, I could already smell breakfast. It was the usual coffee, toast.
Downstairs, the dining table was shining. The same gold plates, the same chairs. Everything was exactly the way I remembered it
My mother sat at one end, looking through a lifestyle magazine.
My father was reading the morning paper, like he always does.
Blake sat at the other end, taking his cereal like he had nothing more to do.
They all turned towards me as I entered the room, well sort of.
My father didn't bother looking up.
"Morning," I murmured.
My mother smiled. "Good morning, darling. You're up early." She gestured toward the chair beside her. "Come, have some breakfast. I told Maria to make your favorite pancakes with blueberries."
I sat. "Thank you."
"You've lost weight," she added. "All that work in Seattle must be stressful."
"It's fine," I replied simply.
A conversation wasn't something I wanted to do right now especially if it was with her.
Blake gave an expression without looking up. "She's probably too busy to eat. Running her own company and all."
"Blake," Mother interrupted though.
"It's fine," I said, as I poured myself a cup of coffee. "At least one of us is working."
That made him look up at me briefly.
He smiled slightly. "Ouch."
Father turned a page of his newspaper.
I used to crave conversations with him, wanting his approval.
But sitting there now, watching him read while I spoke, I realized I didn't want it anymore.
That had ended years ago.
Mother cleared her throat. "How was your night?"
"Quiet," I said.
She smiled again, that forced. "You must be tired from traveling. Maybe take it easy today."
"I will," I murmured, though all I wanted to do was leave here.
No one said a word after that, we all just ate.
When breakfast was over, I left and went upstairs.
In my room, I stood by the window, looking at the garden.
It looked the same too, perfect.
Mother had always been proud of her roses.
I used to help her trim them when I was little until one day she told me not to anymore.
I sighed.
Last night's conversation with Blake replayed in my mind.
**Nathaniel will be attending.**
I knew he would, but hearing someone else say it made it sound convincing.
Even now, hearing his name made me lose focus.
I hated that.
I hated that after all these years, he could still make me feel something.
He shouldn't.
Not after everything.
It had been ten years.
Ten years since that night, that humiliation.
The night I said I'd never think about it again.
And yet, here I was, even after ten years I couldn't still get over it.
I inhaled and then went over to open my laptop.
I paused for a long moment before I typed into the search bar of my email trash: Reunion.
A few seconds later, there it was.
The same subject line I'd ignored weeks ago.
**"Class of 2015 – Reunion Night Invitation"**
I clicked it open.
It was all there.
The hotel venue.
The date—Friday night.
The RSVP link I had deliberately ignored.
My mouse moved to the Delete Permanently button.
My heart pounded faster.
"Don't," I whispered. "There's no point."
But another voice, softer, more dangerous, whispered back, Face it, just once.
I shut the laptop.
"No," I said firmly. "I've moved on."
But I didn't even believe in myself.
***********
The afternoon sun hit me as I walked through the garden.
I wasn't looking for anyone or anything, I just needed to clear my head. Then I heard voices, voices I knew too well.
It was the voices of my parents.
I froze behind one of the plants.
"Do you really think she'll agree to it?" my mother asked.
"She came back, didn't she?" Father replied. "I didn't think she would. I wouldn't blame her if she didn't "
There was a pause before mother continued. "You know how she feels about...about the past."
"That's exactly why I didn't tell her on the phone," he replied. "I'll discuss it on Saturday when they arrive. The investors are expecting her."
Investors.
Saturday.
So that was what this was about.
Business.
Of course.
Typical Richard Collins.
I swallowed as they walked away.
So that was all I was, an asset.
A card to play in some corporate room.
The irony almost made me laugh.
I had built a company from scratch, fought for every inch of respect I had in the business world, and yet to my father, I was still a pawn.
His pawn.
I walked back to my room slowly.
Every corner of the mansion seemed to make me uncomfortable.
When I got upstairs to my room, I made up my mind.
I couldn't stay here.
Not even another night.
********
It didn't take a long time before I made the call.
The real estate agent was polite and didn't talk much.
I loved that.
By evening, I was stepping into a beautiful apartment in the city.
The air was fresh, something I needed.
I didn't feel suffocated like I did in the mansion.
It was quiet, but it was mine.
"This will do," I told the agent.
He smiled, handing me the keys. "Short-term lease for one month, correct?"
"Yes," I said. "One month."
One month was all I needed.
Whatever meeting my father had called me down here for couldn't possibly take longer than that.
Immediately I sort it out, I'd be on the first flight back to Seattle.
As the door shut behind me, I felt something I hadn't felt since I came back.
Freedom.
It didn't fix all my problems, but it was a start.
*******
That night, as I unpacked my luggage, I kept scrolling through my phone again.
I went through my emails, my texts, my social media feed, none of it looked exciting.
I set the phone aside and leaned on the balcony rail.
For a moment, I believed I could start over again.
Away from them.
Away from the ghosts.
But my mind betrayed me.
Nathaniel.
I saw him like he was here , his brown hair, his calm voice, the way he'd look at everyone but me.
Even when we were in the same room, it was like I wasn't there.
10 years ago, I thought I could change that.
I thought if I just tried hard enough, maybe he'd finally see me like he did when we were younger.
He never did.
And the one time I needed him more, he'd turned his back instead.
That was the night everything changed.
The night I learnt that there were more words in silence.
I blinked, as I tried to erase the image. "No," I whispered. "You're not that girl anymore."
Still, as I turned back to my desk, there was a notification on my laptop.
It was a new email.
Without thinking, I opened it.
The subject made my heart drop.
"FINAL UPDATE ON REUNION NIGHT"**
I frowned.
The sender wasn't the same as before, it looked more formal, from the event organizers this time.
Curious, I clicked it open.
It was short.
Too short.
"Dear All,
We look forward to welcoming you to the Class of 2015 Reunion Night tomorrow.
Venue: The Grand Hyatt Ballroom
Dress Code: Formal
Time: 7:00 PM sharp
Kindly note that the Reunion Committee and the Event Chairman will be addressing the class briefly during the dinner.
Chairman: Nathaniel Hart"
I froze.
The name burned against my screen.
Nathaniel Hart.
Ten years, and even typed letters could make my heart drop.
The boy who ignored me had become the man leading the reunion.
Of course he had.
He always had the spotlight, even when he didn't do much.
I stared at the name for a long time, my hands trembling slightly.
So this was it.
How annoying could fate be?
I told myself I wouldn't go.
I told myself it didn't matter.
I didn't need to prove myself to him.
But deep down, I knew the truth.
Tomorrow night, I'd walk into that ballroom.
And whether I wanted to or not, I would have to face him and that meant talking about what happened ten years ago.