Ava's laughter echoed faintly in my mind as the car rolled into the driveway.
But none of that warmth reached me anymore.
Not after today.
Not after seeing her smile—
bright, glowing, tender—
but not for me.
For him.
Leo Clark.
The moment we stepped into our small apartment, Ava tossed her purse onto the couch and loosened her hair with a sigh.
But I couldn't look away from her.
Not from the woman I once thought was my entire world.
"Ava," I whispered, "you held his hand."
She froze.
Just slightly.
Then she turned, forcing a soft smile.
The kind you use to coax a child.
"Ethan… don't make a big deal out of it," she said.
"Leo is your brother now."
Brother.
That word tasted like poison.
If I was the real son,
then what did that make him?
And more importantly—
what did that make me in her eyes?
Ava walked over, placing her hand on my chest, her fingers trailing upward in a familiar gesture she once used to soothe me.
"You're overthinking," she whispered.
"I'm just trying to help you fit into your new family."
Her new family.
Her new world.
Not mine.
Not ours.
I gently removed her hand.
She blinked, startled.
"Ethan?"
"I saw the way you looked at him."
Her lips parted in shock.
Or guilt.
Or something in between.
I continued, my voice hollow:
"You never smiled like that… not even on our wedding day."
Ava stiffened.
Her expression shifted—just a flicker.
Then she laughed softly.
A practiced, dismissive laugh.
"You're jealous," she said calmly.
Her fingers brushed a stray hair behind her ear.
"Of Leo?"
Yes.
And no.
Mostly no.
I wasn't jealous of him.
I was terrified of losing her.
I was terrified that I already had.
She sat down beside me on the couch, crossing her legs with unbothered elegance.
"Ethan, listen to me."
Her tone was slow, measured—
the same tone she used when reading contracts, not comforting a husband.
"Leo is important. To your parents. To the company. To your future."
My jaw clenched.
To your future.
Not our future.
She continued:
"If we want to be accepted—both of us—we need him."
We.
Need.
Him.
The words slammed into me so hard my lungs tightened.
"Is that why you couldn't let go of his hand?" I asked quietly.
Her eyes flickered, a spark of annoyance breaking through her smooth mask.
"Ethan, don't twist things," she snapped lightly.
"It was just a handshake."
A handshake that lingered.
A handshake she initiated.
A handshake she smiled through.
I stared at her.
At the woman I had once thought would stand with me through every storm.
Now she was the eye of the hurricane.
Ava stood up suddenly, pacing toward the window.
Her silhouette glowed softly under the streetlight filtering in.
"Ethan… this is our chance," she murmured.
"Your real family. A massive company. A future neither of us ever dreamed of."
She turned, her eyes shining—not with love, but ambition.
"Don't ruin it by overreacting."
And there it was.
Not love.
Not fear.
Not loyalty.
Just ambition.
Dreams.
Greed.
Desperation to fit into a family that had cast me aside before I could even speak.
And she wanted to fit in so badly she didn't notice—
I was already slipping out of her hands.
She returned to the couch, leaning her head on my shoulder like she always did.
Except this time, her touch felt wrong.
Foreign.
Misplaced.
"Ethan… trust me," she whispered.
But she didn't see the reflection in the window.
The way she had leaned closer to Leo at the mansion.
The way her eyes sparkled when she said his name.
The way she didn't look at me anymore.
I stared at her reflection.
And I watched my own heart break a little more.