The room felt smaller once Hayden arrived.
Not because of his presence but because of what it carried with it. History. Regret. Unfinished sentences that had been waiting far too long to be spoken aloud.
Hazel sat on the couch, her hands folded neatly in her lap, posture calm but guarded. Ava stood near the window, arms crossed tightly over her chest, watching the city lights flicker on one by one as dusk settled in. Hayden remained near the doorway at first, as if unsure whether he was welcome to step any further inside.
"I didn't come to make things worse," he said quietly.
Ava turned to face him. "Then don't soften it. Just tell the truth."
He nodded once, like he'd expected nothing less.
"There are people from my past who still blame me for what happened," Hayden began. "Business partners. Friends who turned into enemies when things went wrong. I thought I'd put all that behind me."
Hazel frowned. "You didn't."
"No," he admitted. "I just stopped looking over my shoulder."
Ava felt a flicker of anger not explosive, but sharp. "And we're paying for that now."
Hayden met her gaze without flinching. "Yes."
The honesty disarmed her more than excuses ever could.
Hazel shifted uncomfortably. "You said you think you know who's doing this."
Hayden hesitated, then spoke the name. "Marcus."
Ava stiffened. "The one you told me about. Your former partner."
"He lost everything when the company collapsed," Hayden said. "He blamed me. Still does. He always said I'd regret walking away."
"And now he's targeting Ava?" Hazel asked.
Hayden shook his head slowly. "He's targeting weakness. Fear. Uncertainty. He wants control."
Ava swallowed hard. "Then why Hazel?"
Hayden looked between them. "Because she matters to you."
The words landed with a quiet finality.
Hazel's hand moved instinctively to her stomach. Ava noticed the gesture immediately and felt a surge of protectiveness rise in her chest.
"You should've told us," Hazel said, her voice firm. "All of this."
"I know," Hayden replied. "I was afraid if I did, you'd both walk away."
Ava exhaled sharply. "You don't get to decide what we can handle."
Silence fell again.
This one was heavier but necessary.
Ava finally sat down, exhaustion pulling at her bones. "I don't want to live in fear. I don't want Hazel looking over her shoulder. And I don't want to keep questioning every step forward."
"What do you want?" Hayden asked.
Ava thought about it. Truly thought.
"I want transparency," she said. "I want us to stop pretending that love alone fixes things. I want truth even when it's ugly."
Hayden nodded. "Then here it is. Lena came back because Marcus contacted her. Told her I was in trouble. That I needed help."
Ava's breath caught. "That's why you were with her."
"Yes," Hayden said. "I didn't tell you because I was afraid you'd think I was lying. Or hiding something worse."
Hazel scoffed softly. "Which, ironically, made it look worse."
A sad smile touched Hayden's lips. "I know."
Outside, sirens wailed faintly in the distance. Life moving on, indifferent to the tension knotted inside that room.
"What do we do now?" Hazel asked.
Ava answered before Hayden could. "We don't isolate. We document everything. And we stop letting fear make our decisions."
Hazel studied her, pride flickering briefly in her eyes. "You've changed."
Ava nodded. "I had to."
Later, after Hayden left, Ava helped Hazel into bed. The exhaustion finally caught up with them both.
"Promise me something," Hazel murmured as Ava pulled the blanket up.
"Anything."
"Don't disappear into your doubts. Let me be part of this."
Ava squeezed her hand. "Always."
That night, alone again in her apartment, Ava stood by the window and looked out over the city. The photograph remained locked in the drawer, but its echo lingered.
She knew the road ahead wouldn't be easy.
But she also knew this:
She wasn't afraid of the truth anymore.
And somewhere, deep within her chest, the quiet understanding settled in love wasn't about certainty.
It was about courage