Chapter 4 - The Rain and the RevelationThe icy November rain hit my face like needles as I walked aimlessly down Hennepin Avenue.
My chest felt hollow, carved out by a mixture of humiliation, anger, and a crushing, suffocating grief. Nine months of unrequited love, wrapped up in late-night movie marathons, stolen glances, and shared coffee, all tainted by the shadow of a man who owned the very floorboards we walked on.
You make life easy, Ben, my ex’s voice echoed in my head. But loving you feels like standing outside a locked house.
She was right. I was a coward. When things got hard, when complications arose, I ran. I walked out into the rain instead of facing the music, letting my pride dictate my actions while Ava was left trapped inside with a man who viewed her as property.
By 2:00 AM, soaked to the bone and shivering, I found myself sitting on a cold concrete bench overlooking the Mississippi River. My phone had been buzzing nonstop for hours—thirty-four missed calls, forty-two text messages from Ava.
Please come back, Ben. Nolan is gone. The locks are changed. I'm so, so sorry. Let me explain everything.
I stared at the glowing screen, my thumb hovering over the reply button. Every instinct screamed at me to stay away, to pack a bag tomorrow morning, break the lease, and disappear from her life forever. It would be safe. It would keep me from getting hurt.
It would be standing outside the locked house.
I let out a harsh, self-deprecating laugh, stood up from the bench, and hailed a cab back to the apartment.
When I swiped my key card into the building lobby, something felt wrong. The heavy glass security door was propped open with a rubber wedge. The lobby lights were flickering, casting long, eerie shadows across the mailboxes.
My heart skipped a beat.
I sprinted up the concrete stairwell, taking the steps three at a time until I reached the fourth floor.
Our apartment door was wide open.
Panic surged through my veins, hot and blinding. I threw myself into the doorway, my fists ready for a fight, my voice tearing through the apartment.
"Ava!"
The living room was completely trashed.
Coffee tables were overturned, decorative pillows slashed open, and papers scattered everywhere. The midnight-blue dress was thrown across the sofa, torn at the shoulder.
And standing in the center of the wreckage, holding a bloody kitchen knife, was Nolan.
He turned slowly toward me, a manic, unhinged grin plastered across his face, blood dripping from his knuckles.
"Well, look who decided to come back," Nolan sneered, wiping the knife against his thigh. "Just in time to say goodbye."
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"Where is she?" I roared, a blind rage overriding every ounce of fear in my body.
Nolan laughed softly, gesturing toward the master bedroom with the tip of the blade. "Sleeping, buddy. Sleeping very, very soundly."
