The morning sunlight filtering through Mia's curtains was far too gentle for the storm sitting in her chest.
Her phone buzzed again—its third attempt to get her attention in the last ten minutes—but Mia wasn't in the mood to be reachable. She lay on her back, one arm draped over her forehead, trying to sift through the fog of conflicting feelings that had wrapped themselves around her like vines. Yesterday's tension still clung to her skin.
Liam's voice…
Ace's expression…
Lily and James watching her like two emotional guard dogs…
It all blended into a tight knot she couldn't seem to loosen.
Mia? We still on for today?
Lily's text lit the screen.
Mia groaned—softly, but dramatically enough to satisfy only herself. It was her day off, the one she'd planned to use for laundry, reading, and generally pretending she wasn't emotionally cornered by two very different men from two very different chapters of her life. But Lily had a way of showing up like a warm cup of tea in human form.
And Mia… needed that.
She typed out: Yes. Just need coffee before anything human.
A reply came instantly. Already outside.
Mia blinked.
"Oh, she's scary," she muttered, sliding out of bed and throwing on a hoodie before shuffling toward the front door.
Sure enough, Lily stood there with two iced coffees, sunglasses perched on her head, radiating competence in a way that made Mia feel like a paper airplane in a windstorm.
"You're alive," Lily said. "Barely. But alive."
Mia took the coffee like it was an IV. "Please tell me today won't involve feelings."
"No promises," Lily answered, breezing past her into the apartment. "I brought backup."
Right on cue, James walked in holding a bag of bagels.
Mia stared at them. "I'm being ambushed."
Lily shrugged. "Ambushed? Nooo. Intervened… maybe."
James unwrapped a bagel. "Look, Mia, you're spiraling. The last time you spiraled this hard was when your favorite pen died and you thought the universe was telling you to become a farmer."
"That pen was symbolic," Mia muttered.
"So is the tension around you right now," Lily sang.
Mia plopped onto the couch. "I don't even know what I'm feeling."
"That's a feeling," James said with unnecessary confidence.
"Shh, let her have her moment," Lily said, then sat beside Mia. "Start from the beginning."
Mia sighed. "Which beginning? College? Liam? Ace? Life in general?"
Lily nudged her. "Yesterday."
Mia hesitated, then let her thoughts spill.
"Liam's voice—he said my name and it was like being hit with a memory I wasn't ready for."
James paused mid-bite.
"Mia, that man broke you," he said gently. "You don't have to pretend he didn't."
She winced. "I know. But hearing him again… it's like all the parts of me I'd packed into boxes suddenly broke loose."
"And Ace?" Lily asked softly.
Mia's stomach fluttered. "Ace… scares me in a different way."
Lily nodded. "Because he sees you. And not the past version of you."
"And he's not subtle about wanting to stay," James added.
Mia hid her face in her hands. "I hate this."
"We know," Lily said soothingly.
"We enjoy it," James added.
Mia glared.
They talked for a while, weaving through feelings like they were untangling an emotional necklace. By noon, Mia felt marginally more grounded—still confused, but at least not drowning in it.
Then her phone buzzed again.
This time…
Ace.
Can we talk? I'll come by.
Mia's heart lurched.
Lily peeked over her shoulder. "Oh. Ohhh. The storm approaches."
James nodded sagely. "We retreat."
Mia groaned. "No, stay."
But they were already standing.
"Absolutely not," Lily said. "This is Ace. He needs privacy to brood attractively."
"I do not brood!" Mia protested.
"Oh sweetheart," James said softly, patting her shoulder. "You are practically a brooding lighthouse beacon."
Before she could retaliate, her front door knocked.
Three distinct taps.
Ace's taps.
Mia's pulse sprinted.
Lily and James exchanged a synchronized pair of good luck smiles before slipping out the back way like two spies abandoning their mission partner.
Mia stood frozen in her living room.
The knock sounded again.
"Coming," she finally managed, breath shaky.
When she opened the door, Ace stood there—hands in his pockets, jaw tight, eyes burning with something she wasn't ready to define. He stepped inside wordlessly, filling her apartment with his presence like he owned the air.
"You weren't answering my texts," he said quietly.
Mia swallowed. "I… needed time."
"For him?" Ace asked.
Her breath caught.
He said it so simply.
So plainly.
No accusation. No jealousy dripping from his tone. Just… truth.
"No," she whispered. "For me."
Ace nodded once, as if that mattered more to him than anything else.
He moved to the window, leaning against the sill, watching the city skyline. His voice was steady, but his grip on the windowsill was tight.
"Mia, I'm trying. I'm trying really hard to give you space. To respect what you had with him. To be patient. But I need you to know something."
Mia's chest tightened.
Ace rarely got emotional.
He showed care through small actions, quiet devotion, subtle but constant presence.
So when he spoke with vulnerability, it meant something.
"I don't want him to walk back into your life and take all the pieces of you I've gotten to know," he said. "I don't want to lose… whatever this is that's happening between us."
Mia felt her pulse throb in her throat.
"Ace…"
"I know you're not ready," he said quickly. "I know you need time. And I'm willing to give you that. But I'm not going to pretend I don't care. And I'm not going to stand still and let him replace me before I even get to show you who I am to you."
His words punched straight into her ribs.
Mia's voice trembled. "I'm not choosing anyone right now."
"I know," Ace replied softly.
He moved toward her—slow, steady, purposeful—until he stood close enough for her to feel his warmth.
"But you're choosing something," he said. "And I want to know what direction your heart is looking at. Even if it's blurry."
Mia closed her eyes.
Her chest hurt in that aching-beautiful way that only meant truth was getting dangerously close.
"I don't know," she whispered. "Everything is tangled."
Ace exhaled, and it wasn't disappointment—it was surrender. Acceptance. Care.
"That's okay," he murmured. "You don't owe me clarity right now."
He stepped back, giving her space without truly leaving.
"But I need you to be honest with yourself," he said. "Not with me. With yourself."
Mia nodded, tears pricking her eyes—not from sadness, but from feeling seen.
"I'm trying," she whispered.
Ace gave her a gentle, fleeting smile. "I know."
He headed toward the door, pausing only once.
"Liam texted you this morning," he said quietly. "Be careful with him, Mia."
Her breath stilled.
"Ace—"
He turned, eyes soft but firm.
"I'm not warning you because of me. I'm warning you because I care about you."
And then he left.
Leaving Mia standing in the storm he'd stirred in her chest.
By mid-afternoon, Mia needed air.
She took a walk to the park, finding a bench under a large oak tree. Her thoughts swirled—not with panic, but with the weight of everything around her.
She didn't hear footsteps until someone stopped at the end of the bench.
"Mia?"
Her heart froze.
Liam.
She looked up slowly, meeting the familiar face that once meant everything. His expression was hope mingled with guilt, wrapped in nostalgia.
"I saw you sitting here," Liam said softly. "Can I… sit?"
Mia nodded stiffly.
He sat beside her, leaving just enough space to feel polite but far too close for comfort.
"I feel like you're avoiding me," Liam said gently.
"I'm thinking," Mia corrected.
"What about?"
She hesitated.
Then…
"You," she whispered. "And what you want from me now."
Liam exhaled, running a hand through his hair. "I want another chance."
Mia's stomach twisted.
"I loved you," he said. "And I walked away for the wrong reasons. I thought I needed to focus on my career, on myself, on everything except us. But leaving you was the biggest mistake I ever made."
Mia stared at her hands.
The words hit her in that dangerous, familiar way.
But they didn't settle the same as before.
"I'm not that girl anymore," she murmured.
"I know," Liam said quickly. "And I don't want the old you. I want you. Now. As you are."
Mia's breath trembled.
But her heart wasn't beating the same rhythm it used to around him.
Before she could speak, a voice called her name.
Her real name.
Full.
Clear.
Firm.
"Mia!"
She turned.
Ace stood there with Lily and James—three expressions of concern, tension, and protective fury.
James stepped forward first. "We need to talk. All of us."
Liam tensed. "This isn't your business."
"Oh buddy," James said with a low laugh, "you have no idea how our business works."
Lily crossed her arms. "You don't deserve her."
"Lily—" Mia started.
"No," Lily snapped softly but fiercely. "He doesn't."
Ace said nothing at first—but his silence was heavier than any words Liam could've mustered.
Finally, Ace stepped forward.
"When you left her," he said calmly, "you didn't just walk away from a relationship. You walked away from her confidence. Her trust. Her heart. And you don't get to pretend she's the same person waiting for you."
Liam's jaw tightened. "You think you know her that well?"
"Yes," Ace said without hesitation. "I do."
Mia's breath stopped.
Liam looked at her—hurt, confused, desperate.
"Mia… is that true?"
The world held still.
Too bright.
Too heavy.
Too much.
And Mia—overwhelmed, breathless, pulled in two directions she wasn't ready to face—did the only thing her heart allowed her to do.
She stood.
And fled.
Leaving all three men staring at the empty space she left behind.