Nine years ago.
Since the day that Avery sent Damon home and helped him clean his wounds, he had not met her again. Like the chicken he was, he had not been able to get her contact details either. He could only rely on fate to make them meet again—of course, fate included attending the class he knew they had in common, being the earliest and sitting in the back. The lecture hall was stadium styled and the entrance was at the back, so he would definitely see her when she walked in.
However, luck was not on his side. She didn't attend her lessons for the whole week and even when he deliberately sat near the spot she had been sitting the only time he saw her at the cafeteria, they didn't bump into each other either. He had almost resigned to his fate and was about to bite the bullet and ask Gabe about her whereabouts when he saw her again—when he least expected it.
She was hugging her bag and walking in the opposite direction of him, which meant they were going to bump into each other. Luckily, he looked presentable this time. He had made it a point to dress up better than he usually did, not that his former style was bad. He just wanted to impress her. Today he was dressed casually in jeans and a black polo shirt but he knew that there was nothing to complain about.
"Hey, Avery." He waved at her when she was close enough.
She looked up, jolting from her deep thoughts and smiled gently when she saw him. She only managed a throaty "Hey."
Did she have a flu? He was about to ask when he noticed her dull eyes. She didn't look like she had been crying but she was definitely sad about something. It pained his heart.
"Would you like to grab coffee together? I was heading to Reynold's." He offered.
"Sure. I was going there too." She nodded, even though they had been walking in opposite directions.
He didn't call her out on it. She probably needed to get it off her head. As they walked towards Reynold's, he carefully said, "You don't look happy. Bad morning?"
She nodded. "I had a fight with my parents."
"Do you want to talk about it?"
She didn't hesitate, probably because it was weighing down on her. "They want me to go to France."
He frowned. "And you don't want to?"
She shook her head, looking as though she would rather die than go. "I like France, by the way. I would have loved to go under different circumstances but they want me to move in with a distant aunt. They don't care what I want."
"That's awful. Maybe you should stand up to them? Seeing as you're an adult and all." He suggested. He knew it was probably not easy but being forced to be where she didn't want to be was much worse.
"It's not about my age." She sighed.
They arrived at Reynold's and he ordered them black coffee and a sandwich each.
They sat opposite each other at a corner and they were among the few patrons in the whole cafe. She took a bite of her sandwich which tasted blunt like every other food she had been trying to eat for the past few days. For some reason, she felt it safe to open up to him. They didn't know each other anyway, he would not use it against her. After justifying herself, it came rambling out. "Ever since they started trying for another child, they don't need me anymore—which is practically a couple of months since I was born."
"Why on earth would they do that?" He cringed and hated her parents even though he had not met them yet.
"I was confused too." She shrugged. "My aunt said they didn't want to do a gender reveal when they were expecting me. Not that it was common those days but they said that they wanted a surprise—but deep down they were hoping for a boy. Not for some "Congratulations, it's a little princess" kind of crap."
"That kinda sucks." He realized the misunderstanding his words caused and clarified. "I mean, to you. You did not ask to be born and didn't choose your gender. They have no right to treat you like it's your fault."
"Try telling them that." She chuckled at the impossibility.
He was even more confused.
"But your brother is a boy, right? Why do they still want another and dislike their daughter for not being a boy?"
She shrugged. "I don't know either. When I was little, I overheard them say something about Gabe not being a potential heir to father's property and that he couldn't take over the family business. I don't understand them either and honestly, I don't want to know."
She sipped her tasteless coffee. "Anyway, they want me out of their lives, I guess. Otherwise, they wouldn't be forcing me out of the country."
He hated that he couldn't talk—or beat—some sense into her parents. To think that a family that appeared to be loving all over the papers would have such darkness looming over it. He reached over the table and patted her hand. "I'm sorry. It will be alright, Avery. How about some raspberry cookies to cheer you up?"
She looked up and almost gasped in a mixture of surprise and shock. "How did you know that raspberry is my favorite flavor?"
"Lucky guess." He winked. In reality, there was no such thing as a lucky guess. It was only because the second time they met, there was a see-through packet of raspberry cookies on her table.