Ava
When do you know you’re in love?
I remembered I’d asked my mother that one day when I thought the first crush I’d had was going to be ‘the one’. Her answer had come easily, the love in her eyes for my father shining like a beacon of light.
She’d said when you’d rather die than spend a single day on Earth without the person.
I’d realized quickly after that the kid I’d been certain would be my happily ever after was more like a frog who’d never turn into a prince.
As I mulled over the memory, the realization that I couldn’t live without the three men who’d blasted into my life not once but twice was life-altering.
I loved them.
All three. They were flawed and dangerous, romantic and powerful.
But was love enough?
Evidently, I believed so since I was flying back to Chicago. If they wanted to talk, we were going to have a long conversation. There would be no additional secrets or lies. Not one. They’d tell me everything they knew about who I once was and what they had planned that night so long ago.
Then whoever was sending the threats wouldn’t have the needed ammunition any longer. Who was warning me? Why?
Ava .
I repeated my name several times, even twice out loud while in the bathroom at the airport in San Diego. I liked it. It had character, much like the name Maria. However, I wasn’t certain I would use it at this point. If I did, my stage name would stay the same. I was reminded that after everything I’d learned, the heartache and fear, the nightmares that had plagued me, I’d managed to carve out a life that I treasured more than I realized.
If what my mother had said was true, my love of music had kept me from remaining in the darkness forever. Even seeing the People Magazine article online while waiting to board had been another reminder and one that I’d needed. I couldn’t abandon who I thought I was so I could bring the ghost of my former self into the light. I remembered my childhood and after the accident, and that was all I really needed.
Even if there was still a nagging question about what had happened that night. I stared out the window, keeping my phone in my hand. I’d typed out a mesAva to all three men, still unable to hit send. I just wasn’t certain how to move forward without looking back.
Or over my shoulder.
Sighing, I pulled the envelope from my purse, fingering the flap. The information inside had obviously been prepared long before my surprise visit. There were letters from my parents, bank statements for the money they’d maintained for me as well as other financial information. There were even a few pictures that had been taken weeks prior to the accident. Some that I’d sent from school. I didn’t recognize the face, although my eyes were the same.
Nothing they’d provided was troubling.
Except for the letter from my father to Clinton.
It was the one thing that would possibly destroy the last tether we had. It wasn’t mine to keep, but as the provider of the horrific statement, including with proof, it was my responsibility to ensure that it got to the person the letter was addressed to.
Only that scared me more than learning the last details about the tragic night of so long ago.
I closed my eyes, feeling the pull of the engines as the pilot began to slow for descent. My stomach was in knots, my mind still in a haze. I didn’t know if I’d ever see my parents again. It was crazy to think he’d been an assassin.
As the announcement was made for the approach to the airport, I had one last chance to send the text. I grabbed my phone, sliding my finger across the screen, a single tear slipping down my cheek. What if they believed I had something to do with the horrible game being played?
In admitting to myself that I loved them, it had opened up my heart completely, allowing me to feel the sting of the vacuum we’d pulled ourselves into. We’d been drawn to each other, forced to return to the very edge of darkness that had brought us together in the first place. Maybe a small part of me had sensed I’d known them before.
A tickling sensation pushed into the back of my mind, heat vibrating through every cell as I thought about the three men who’d crashed into my life, awakening not only dark desires that I’d obviously had years before, but also a longing for a family. That was crazy. Yet as I pictured them in my mind, a series of sweeping images of our passion brought a smile to my face and a flurry of butterflies replacing the knots in my stomach.
What we shared was real.
They were all I needed and everything I craved.
I stared at my phone, biting my lower lip.
Then I hit send.