POV: Ava Ren
One year later…
My hair is longer now. It almost brushes the back of my knees when I run—well, trip—down the marble staircase of our unnecessarily large mansion.
Which I still call "The House That Smiles Built."
Because Alex smiles now.
Not a lot. Not enough for normal people. But enough for me.
And I'm still me.
Still clumsy. Still cheerful. Still an overachieving law student who burns eggs occasionally but somehow makes a killer truffle risotto. Still clingy enough to make the bodyguards sigh with affection and the house staff collectively call me "our sunshine."
I rush into the living room in a blur of coffee, legal notes, tangled hair and a very dramatic gasp.
"Alex Ren!"
He's seated on the couch, tie half-done, sipping espresso like he's in a commercial for heartbreakingly handsome billionaires.
"What?" he says without looking up.
I hold up a tupperware box. "I made you dumplings shaped like bunnies. You better cry."
He blinks. Slowly. "You woke up at five to make that?"
"Yes. And also because I tripped over my Constitutional Law textbook. But mostly for the dumplings."
He smirks.
Smirks. Like it's normal.
"Thank you," he says, and honestly? I need to sit down. The Alex of a year ago would've blinked, said "Okay," and walked off like he'd been emotionally trained by statues.
"You're welcome," I say, swinging my bag over my shoulder. "Now drive me to uni?"
"Didn't you say you'd take the cab today?"
"Yes. But c'mon. Final year vibes. Hot husband privilege. I'll sit quietly and everything."
"Lie."
"Big lie."
He sighs, sets down his coffee, and stands.
Still tall. Still gorgeous. Still the human version of a limited edition luxury watch.
Except now, he holds my hand more often than he doesn't.
And as we walk to the car, and he opens the door for me like a gentleman straight out of a drama, I realize something.
No matter how long it's been, no matter how many boardrooms he conquers or smiles he learns to wear…
He's still my Alex.
And I'm still his Ava.
The chaos and the calm.
The storm and the sunshine.
And somewhere in his phone?
That selfie of me—cheek smushed against his—still greets him every time he unlocks it.
---
POV: Alex Ren
The moment I park outside her university, I already know what's about to happen.
Because it's always the same.
Ava's bag is stuffed to the brim, her arms are full of snacks "for the law library people," and her hair is doing that majestic wind-in-the-movies thing.
And she's smiling at me like I just bought her the moon.
"Thank youuuuu, hubby!" she sings, leaning over to kiss my cheek before flinging the car door open like she's in an action film.
"Ava—watch your—"
Too late.
One heel catches on the curb. Her ankle twists. She flails. Her textbook flies. I swear, in slow motion, I see her water bottle do a graceful backflip in the air.
And then—splat.
Right onto the grass.
The moment she hits the ground, I brace myself.
Not for her crying.
No. Not Ava Ren.
She pops up like toast from a toaster.
"I'm okay!" she yells, holding up a peace sign, one shoe in her hand and a granola bar in the other.
Students from all directions start laughing. Not at her. With her.
Because Ava Chen—no, Ava Ren—is the queen of this place.
Final-year law student. The girl who knows every professor by name. The one even the grumpy library assistant hugs. The one people literally wait for in the cafeteria just so they can say hi.
And the one who falls on her face and stands up like it was part of her runway walk.
I lean an elbow on the steering wheel and watch as she's instantly surrounded. Two girls help her fix her hair. Some guy with heart eyes picks up her book. Another offers her a bottle of water.
She grins at all of them, big and bright, like the sun never went anywhere.
Then—because of course—she turns back to the car and yells across the parking lot, "Love you! Don't forget to eat lunch!"
Everyone turns to look at me.
I give them nothing.
Just a small, rare smile. The one I didn't know I had a year ago.
Because that girl—tripping over her own feet, hugging three people at once, and still managing to beam at me like I'm her whole world?
She's mine.
And I wouldn't change a damn thing.