Ava didn't look at me as she picked up the spoon. Her fingers trembled slightly, and for a second, I thought she would drop it. But she didn't.
She took a small sip of the soup, her expression unreadable.
Jia, still glaring at me like I was public enemy number one, scoffed. "If you poisoned that, I swear—"
"I didn't," I muttered.
Ava exhaled, setting the spoon down. "Jia, enough."
Jia huffed, but she didn't argue this time. Instead, she leaned back on the couch, muttering something under her breath.
Silence settled over us, heavy and uncomfortable.
Ava didn't speak, but at least she was eating. That had to count for something, right?
I sat back in the chair beside her bed, my fingers locked together as I watched her carefully. She still looked exhausted, but some color had returned to her face.
Still, the air between us was thick with everything left unsaid.
I wanted to say something.
Apologize again.
Tell her that I didn't know she'd be here. That I didn't plan this.
That I'd still choose her if I had a choice.
But I didn't.
Because I knew what she would say.
She wouldn't believe me.
And maybe she shouldn't.
She put the spoon down after a few more bites, her gaze flickering toward me for the first time since I walked in.
I held my breath.
But all she said was—
"…Why are you still here?"
It was an honest question. A quiet, exhausted question.
One that shattered me more than if she had yelled.
I looked down at my hands, exhaling slowly. "Because…"
Because I missed you.
Because I never stopped loving you.
Because I don't know how to stop.
"…I just wanted to make sure you were okay."
Ava didn't respond right away. Instead, she leaned back against the pillow, closing her eyes. "I don't need you to."
Her words stung more than they should have.
Jia scoffed. "You heard her. You can go now."
I clenched my jaw, forcing myself to stay still. I wanted to argue. To tell her I wasn't going anywhere.
But what right did I have to say that?
I exhaled slowly and stood up. "I'll be back later."
Jia gave me a look like she wanted to throw something at me. Ava didn't open her eyes.
I turned and walked toward the door, gripping the handle.
Then—
"…Liam."
Her voice was barely above a whisper, but it stopped me in my tracks.
I turned slightly, waiting.
A pause. A deep breath.
"…Thanks for the food."
It wasn't forgiveness.
It wasn't warmth.
But it was something.
And for now, I'd take it.