When His Ex Walked Back In

te envelope across t

ning, Mr.

& Sterling, looked up from his bl

r. "Ava, are you

p ache sat in my chest, but I pushed it down.

, tucked away in a corner. It wasn't just an architec

ee-stained notes, a dried rose I'd pressed th

ther case. He'd worked for Marcus's father, believed i

nding, a sad, quiet

ot the Marcus of today, the ruthless star a

about architecture as a force for community, for good. His father

stories of a better Thorne & Sterling. Marcus, with h

and naive, dec

e & Sterling. I wanted to be near him, to l

itect role. But my real job, the one that c

rd, his late-night coffee runner. I told

d see me, r

hree years ago. The fi

sat in his vast office, the city lights glit

of his father's legacy,

d to another. A shared bottle of whiskey, a despe

n, unexpected closeness

magic was gone. Marc

eyes, "last night... it was

mething unreadable in his eyes. "You re

then, but I knew. The ghost of

liation burned through m

week later, he approached me,

loyalty. Perhaps we can continue... t

f him was better than noth

sacrificing a piece of myself

ce was clear. He

dden lover, his uncredited design

his penthouse. We'd work, s

fore dawn, a ghost i

et suffering I endured for three year

Chen. No one knew the other Ava, the one who

d to New York. His college

ds glowing. "A thrilling new collaboration! Isabelle Duval,

res of them – laughing, brainstorming,

ffection, his admiration. And i

trayal cut deeper than I thought pos

rom the shared office space, the one I so

e, laughing at something she said. He gla

ourse. The gallery op

a dull, persistent p

ectural journals, it slipped. Con

with drawings of Marcus, portra

working, him smiling – a smi

assment. My deepest, most

his eyes falling on

ne drawing, his ex

with anger, but with

ch was worse. "You need to move on. Find someone

s brushing mine. A spark of the old conne

final dismissal. He was telling me to

o my tiny Queens apartmen

ing, a tightening in my ch

iven me – a few expensive trinket

pressed rose, every memento

in an old metal bin. I watched it a

a painful catharsis. I