Ava's POV
The house was too quiet.
Not peacefully quiet. Not sleepy or warm. Just… still. Like something had been ripped out of it.
Rain was gone.
I should've felt relieved. Safe. Like the threat was over.
But Sebastian hadn't said a word since it happened. Just walked me upstairs, kissed my forehead, and locked himself in his study.
It was almost midnight now.
I padded down the hallway barefoot, dragging his hoodie over my knees like armor. I didn't knock—I just opened the door gently, the way he did when I was the one hiding.
He sat on the edge of the couch, tie undone, hair ruffled like he'd run his hands through it a hundred times.
He didn't look up when I stepped in.
So I crossed the room and sat next to him, knees tucked to my chest, careful not to say anything.
I waited.
And after a minute, he whispered, "I knew it was her."
I looked at him.
"I knew the cameras weren't glitching. I knew someone was in the house at night. I knew someone was watching us. I just… didn't want to believe it was her."
His voice cracked, just a little.
"She used to be kind. Or maybe I wanted to think she was kind. She was there when I didn't know what the hell I was doing. She took care of you when I couldn't even take care of myself."
I reached out and took his hand.
"But she didn't love me, Ava. She loved the idea of me. She wanted the power. The name. The illusion of closeness." His voice turned bitter. "She waited years for me to look at her differently. And when I didn't, she blamed you."
I squeezed his hand harder.
"I should've said something earlier," he whispered. "Should've protected you better. I didn't want to believe she could hurt you. That anyone could."
"I'm okay," I whispered.
He finally turned to look at me. And his eyes were wrecked. Red. Swollen. Scared.
"No, you're not," he said. "You're not okay. You've been through more than any girl your age should've. And every time I think I'm keeping you safe, something else happens."
"You are keeping me safe," I said quickly. "You're the only place I've ever felt safe."
His hand reached up and cupped my cheek.
"I missed it all, Ava. Your first heartbreak. Your first bike ride. Your nightmares. Your reckless nights I never saw coming. I wasn't there."
"But you're here now," I whispered, leaning into his palm.
Silence stretched again, heavy but not empty.
Then I asked the question I'd never dared to say out loud.
"Why didn't you ever let her call you Seb?"
His jaw tightened. "Because she wanted it too badly."
"And me?"
"You never asked. You just called me that one day. Like you already owned it." His lips twitched. "And I let you."
I blinked hard. "I'm sorry I scared you. With the club. The drinking. The hiding. I was just… angry. Lost. I thought if I broke myself, maybe I'd feel something."
He leaned forward, pressing his forehead to mine.
"You scare the shit out of me sometimes," he whispered. "But I've never been prouder of anyone in my life."
Tears slid down my face, silent and hot.
"I love you," I sobbed.
"I know, baby," he murmured, wrapping his arms around me and pulling me into his chest. "I love you more than anything. And I'm never letting anything touch you again."
I buried myself in his embrace, letting his warmth soak through every shattered part of me.
And for the first time in what felt like forever—
I believed him.