CHAPTER 32: Pieces of Us
The last note lingered between them, suspended in the air like a held breath.
Ava's hand remained over Eli's on the keys, not pressing—just there. Steady. Real.
Eli looked down at their fingers, intertwined by accident or fate, and something inside him shifted.
"I haven't played that piece in years," he said softly.
Ava tilted her head. "Then why did you?"
He swallowed. "Because… for the first time, I didn't feel alone at the piano."
Her heart ached at the honesty in his voice. "You're not," she whispered. "Not anymore."
Silence curled around them again, but this time it wasn't empty. It was warm. Full.
Ava leaned forward, forehead resting gently against his. "I wish I could take back everything you lost."
Eli shook his head. "Don't. We're both made of missing pieces. But somehow… we still fit."
His words pierced something inside her—a place untouched, even by memory. And for a second, she believed it. That maybe broken didn't mean unworthy. Maybe lost didn't mean unloved.
Then her phone vibrated.
Ava froze.
Eli felt her stiffen and pulled back slightly. "What is it?"
She fished the phone from her pocket.
A single message.
Unknown Number:You found him. But do you know what he's done?
Her breath caught.
"What is it?" Eli asked again, concern lacing his voice.
She stared at the screen. "I… I don't know."
But she did. Somewhere deep down, she did.
The past wasn't finished. The fire might have burned down their memories, but some ghosts had survived the smoke.
She turned the phone toward Eli. "Do you recognize this number?"
He looked. His face drained of color.
"No," he lied too quickly.
Ava searched his expression. "Eli…"
But he was already standing, putting space between them. The warmth between them began to chill.
"I should go," he said abruptly.
Ava stood too. "Please don't shut me out."
But his jaw tightened. "There are things about me you don't know. Things you might not want to know."
Her voice cracked. "Then let me decide that."
He looked at her then—really looked—and for a second, she saw it.
Fear.
Not of her. Of himself.
And without another word, he walked away.
Again.
Leaving Ava holding the phone like it was a grenade.
Because sometimes, love wasn't a cure.
Sometimes, it was the match.