I came home from work.

A copy of Vogue was in the mailbox, its cover a special issue celebrating the engagement of my ex-boyfriend, Julian, and his new fiancée.

I froze. Before I could process it, my phone rang.

I answered instinctively. A familiar voice spoke my name—one I hadn't heard in three years.

"Ava, what if I told you I regret it?"

"Would you take me back?"

————————

1

"Ava—"

Over the phone, Julian's voice was a tentative blade, slicing open healed scars and leaving them raw all over again. Feeling my own heart hammer against my ribs, I cut him off, my tone icy.

"Julian."

"Did you lose another game of Truth or Dare with your fraternity brothers?"

I sank onto the sofa, staring at the perfect couple in the magazine. Their radiant smiles were blinding, just like at that party three years ago. The same party where Julian shoved me down a flight of stairs, shattering my bones. I’d collapsed to the sound of the crowd's jeering laughter, begging him to just look at me.

But he had only glanced coldly at the pathetic sight of me on the floor and said...

"Ava."

"You will never belong in my world."

Now, listening to Julian's heavy breathing on the other end of the line, I let out a short, harsh laugh.

"What's the bet this time?"

"A bet on whether the foster kid whose life you nearly destroyed will still come running back, wagging her tail for you? Or," I drawled, "is the plan to play with her feelings again? To make her your new trophy while you watch me grovel at your feet, crying and begging you not to leave?"

Julian.

Who the hell did he think he was?

The water glass on the table tipped over, soaking the tabletop and scattering my anti-anxiety medication.

My PTSD prescription.

The white pills dissolved in the water, a stark contrast to the glamorous magazine cover. I trembled, my fingers fumbling as I tried to pick them up, but then I heard Julian speak.

"Ava, it's been three years."

His tone softened, as if he were coaxing a child.

"Three years."

"Can't we start over?"

Start over.

The thought was so absurd I almost laughed again. My hands wouldn't stop shaking; I didn't even have the strength to pick up a single pill.

And he was talking about starting over. How could we possibly start over?

I’d thought three years was long enough to face the past. I never expected Julian’s voice alone could dredge up such a visceral memory. That bone-deep pain swept over me once more.

"A good ex is a dead ex. I already mourned you, so why can't you just stay in your grave?"

I suppressed a shiver and scoffed.

"Julian."

"What, sad you didn't finish the job when you pushed me down the stairs? Or are you planning to spread those fake naked photos again—"

"Ava!"

Julian's breathing grew ragged, his voice trembling. "I'm not like that. I never wanted to hurt you, and I would never look down on you because of your background."

"What happened back then… I was an asshole. It was my fault, I admit it, but can you please—"

A long silence stretched over the line.

Then, a sound… It sounded like the once-arrogant star quarterback was quietly sobbing on the other end of the line. He choked out, "I really regret it."

"Ava."

"I regret it."

In this world, regret is useless.

And a true heart? Utterly worthless.

"I'll have my assistant send a gift for the engagement party," I told Julian wearily.

"But from now on, don't contact me again."

I hung up.

I blocked and deleted his number—one more contact purged from my life. Sitting in the empty living room, the air grew thick and heavy, dragging me back across three years of carefully constructed peace.

Three years ago.

Julian had texted me.

*Ava, what if I told you I have a surprise for you at the homecoming party?*

*Will you wait for me?*

At the time, I’d just left the art studio, his words making my face flush and my heart race. The whole world seemed to blush pink. But on the day of the party, after I’d spent all afternoon getting ready, no new message from Julian ever came.

He must be preparing the surprise, I thought. I couldn't wait. I started asking his friends, and that's when I found out.

Julian had booked the entire fraternity house, planning a huge spectacle. My heart pounded. Clutching my hot cheeks, I hurried over, only to see another girl, Blair, standing in the center of a crowd, her eyes red-rimmed as she held out her hand to the man at the center of everyone's attention.

"I do."

"I accept."

The world went silent. The blood in my veins turned to ice as I watched everyone around them cheer, chanting for Julian to kiss her.

Julian smiled, wrapped an arm around the girl's waist, and leaned in. I launched myself between them like a madwoman, my hand cracking across Blair's face.

"Who are you!" I demanded.

"Why are you with my boyfriend!"

I had thought I was his girlfriend, plain and simple. The woman he held hands with, hugged, kissed passionately, and spent nights tangled up with—his one and only.

In the end, Blair just looked at Julian with tears welling in her eyes.

And Julian slapped me. Hard.

"Apologize!" he ordered.

"Ava! Don't make me say it a second time!"

"Apologize. Now!"

Stunned, I stared at him in disbelief. Blair started crying harder. She hadn't said a single word, yet Julian sneered, grabbed a fistful of my carefully styled hair, and kicked the back of my knees, forcing me to the ground.

"Apologize!"

Julian yanked my hair, stepped on my calf, and shoved my head toward the floor.

A ringing filled my ears.

The sound of laughter.

And Blair's sobs, mingling with Julian's voice: "Who the hell do you think you are, daring to touch my girl!"

"Ava, did you really think you were someone special to me?"

"It was just a bet. Why did you take it so seriously?"

My world spun. My makeup was a wreck. I was a clown who had crashed a royal ball, a complete joke. Yet I still clung to that last shred of affection for him, crying as I asked.

"Why?"

"Julian."

"Why?"

I cried, clinging to his leg, refusing to let him leave.

"Didn't you say you had a surprise for me?"

"Didn't you say you liked me?"

"Why would you do this?"

"Julian."

"Why?"

I woke from the nightmare and saw the clock glowing five-thirty in the morning. I shook some pills from the bottle and swallowed them dry, then headed to the kitchen to make breakfast when the doorbell rang.

A frantic, pounding sound.

It sounded like a demon clawing its way up from hell, its hands reaching for me. The moment I opened the door…

I saw a group of women standing on my doorstep.

One of them, a woman with an exquisitely made-up face, matched the photo in the magazine. I recognized her instantly.

Julian's fiancée.

Blair.

Blair crossed her arms, her eyes raking over me.

"So you're Ava?"