Austin Chen's POV
The sun was too bright.
Too golden. Too happy. Like it didn't know what kind of heartbreak today was.
My daughter—my Ava—was standing in front of the mirror, fussing with her veil. Her long hair was tied up in soft curls, her cheeks glowing with joy, and her eyes—
God, those eyes.
Still too full of hope.
She looked exactly like her mother had the day she left.
And yet, she was nothing like Vivienne.
She was mine.
Mine to raise. Mine to protect. Mine to love more fiercely than the world thought possible.
And today, I had to let her go.
Adrien stood at the end of the aisle. Tall, polished, annoyingly handsome in his crisp suit. His tie was slightly crooked—she probably fixed it backstage, fussing like always. He had that look in his eyes. Like she was the only thing that had ever made sense in his life.
He was a good man.
Built his own empire from scratch. Took over the tech world by storm before thirty. Treated my daughter like she was a queen. No—like she was air and he hadn't breathed right until she walked into the room.
He looked at her like I did when she was five and told me she wanted to buy the moon for me with her lunch money.
But he still wasn't good enough.
No one ever would be.
When she reached the altar, she looked back—just once.
Her eyes locked with mine.
And in that tiny second, I saw everything.
The scraped knees. The first piano recital. The late-night cuddles in my office. The tears she cried when she thought I didn't love her enough. The way she clung to my shirt the night Vivienne tried to come back.
She mouthed: "I love you, Dada."
I didn't cry.
I didn't.
I just blinked really fast and glared at Adrien harder.
After the ceremony, Adrien came up to me.
He always looked nervous around me, no matter how many times I tried to act civil. (Which, to be clear, was never.)
He extended his hand.
I shook it.
Then I leaned in.
> "You break her heart, Adrien," I whispered, "I break your legs. Then your start-up."
He smiled nervously. "Yes, sir."
Smart boy.
The party went late into the night.
Ava danced barefoot. She teased the guards. She fed cake to the chef. She bribed one of the drivers to bring extra dessert to the kids' table and tied a ribbon in a terrified intern's hair.
She was still her.
Too bright. Too soft. Too Ava.
And the whole world loved her for it.
Before she left, she hugged me tight.
So tight.
Like she was five again and afraid of monsters.
"You'll be okay without me?" she whispered.
"No," I said, burying my nose in her hair. "But I'll try."
She pulled back. Tucked a bow into my suit pocket. Pressed a kiss to my cheek.
Then she was gone.
With him.
Her Adrien.
Later that night, my phone buzzed.
Ava: Made it to the hotel. Love u, Dada. Stop scowling. Adrien's scared of u. Also I stole one of your ties, oops.
Seventeen emojis followed.
I stared at the message. Then at the quiet house. The empty kitchen. The hallway that still smelled like vanilla and sugar.
I didn't smile.
(I did.)
Adrien might get to call her "wife" now.
But she'll always be mine first.
My girl.
My Ava.
My sunshine.
Forever.
The end.
Signing off
Siddhii Singh