(Ava's POV)
It wasn't a moment. It wasn't some dramatic grand gesture, some sudden, tear-stained revelation. It was slower. Quieter. Like sunlight creeping in through drawn curtains after years of darkness.
Alex was different. Not just softer in the way he looked at me now, but quieter in how he carried his guilt. Not drowning in it—no. That wouldn't have helped. But... holding it. Owning it.
I saw it when he stood back and let Adrien take the lead. When he listened more than he spoke. When he paused before reacting. When he never asked for forgiveness—but earned pieces of it with time.
A year ago, I flinched at the mention of his name.
Now, my fingers lingered over a mug he'd just handed me.
Stupid mug.
Same coffee shop. Same table from years ago.
But different people. Older. Weathered.
"I used to think you'd never smile at me again," he said once, not looking at me, stirring his coffee like it might give him answers.
I didn't reply.
Because I wasn't sure if I was smiling at him… or at who he used to be.
But then Adrien laughed at something Alex said over dinner. Real laughter. And I caught myself watching the curve of Alex's smile. The way his shoulders dropped. The ease that hadn't existed in him for so long.
And I felt it.
A flicker.
Not the reckless kind of love.
Not the first-love wildfire.
But the kind that smolders in the cold. The kind you build slowly, protect, feed with patience and choice.
Was I falling in love again?
Maybe.
But this time, it was my choice.
No fear.
No illusions.
No looking away from the past.
Just… choosing.