---
Friday arrived like a breath of fresh air.
The campus buzzed with life. Students spilled across the quad in clusters — some laughing, others rushing to class, earbuds in, backpacks flapping. The California sun was warm but not heavy, and for once, Ava felt like the weather matched her mood.
She hadn't thought about Jordan in two whole days.
Well… maybe just a little.
But not in the same way. Not in that aching, waiting, wishing way. Now, her thoughts felt more like quiet detachment, like flipping past a photo in an old album. There was once a moment… but it was gone now.
She walked into the design lab and found Caleb already setting up their workspace, sleeves rolled, measuring tape slung over his shoulder like a soft badge of honor. He looked up, smiled — that slow, lopsided grin that made people trust him before they even knew why.
"You're on time," he teased.
"Don't get used to it," she smirked, dropping her bag.
As they worked, there was an ease between them — one Ava hadn't felt with anyone in a long time. They exchanged sketches, draped fabric, debated thread counts, and argued over the ethics of fast fashion. With Caleb, everything was natural. Safe. Honest.
At one point, he looked at her, his tone quieter. "You seem lighter today."
"I feel lighter."
"Good. Keep choosing that version of you."
Ava paused.
She realized she was.
---
That afternoon, she sat by herself in the campus garden, sketching under the shade of a jacaranda tree. Purple blossoms littered the ground like confetti.
Her pencil moved quickly — this time, a jumpsuit with bold shoulders and clean lines. It was fierce. Confident. Unapologetic.
Just as she added the final shade, her phone buzzed.
Unknown Number:
> "Saw your new design on the student showcase page. Proud of you. Always knew you'd shine."
Ava's stomach dropped.
She knew that tone. That passive, haunting familiarity.
She tapped the number.
No name. No picture.
But she didn't need one.
It was Jordan.
She hadn't just blocked his number. She'd deleted the contact too.
Her hand trembled slightly as she stared at the message.
He was watching.
Still.
Somehow.
She didn't respond. She didn't block him again.
Not yet.
Instead, she set the phone down and leaned back against the tree, eyes closed.
He didn't get to take this peace from her.
Not again.
---
Later that night, Ava and Sasha lounged in the living room, candles flickering, a K-drama paused mid-scene.
Ava finally told her about the message.
Sasha nearly launched her phone out the window.
"He's stalking your student work page now? What's next, fake Spotify accounts?"
"I'm not scared," Ava said. "Just... irritated."
"Well, irritation is how the body warns you about infection."
Ava laughed despite herself.
"Are you gonna block him again?"
Ava hesitated. "I don't want him to know he got to me. Blocking him feels like an answer."
"So does silence," Sasha said.
Ava nodded.
"I'm not going back. Not even to say goodbye."
---
The weekend passed in a flurry of deadlines and deep breaths.
Ava and Caleb met again in the lab — this time to prep their piece for the final student gallery. It was a public showcase, a huge event where industry professionals came to scout rising talent.
Their design was nearly complete: a transformative outfit with removable layers that represented emotional healing. Caleb called it The Phoenix Suit. Ava preferred Armor Reimagined.
Both titles fit.
By Sunday night, they were finishing the final stitches when Caleb glanced at her, more serious than usual.
"I know you've been through it," he said. "And I'm not trying to push into something you're not ready for. But... I like being around you. For more than just work."
Ava felt her heart skip.
She didn't rush to reply. She let the silence stretch — a silence that wasn't awkward, but necessary.
"I like being around you too," she said finally.
"Then maybe... when this gallery's over," he said, "we can go get something that isn't coffee or Thai takeout."
A real date.
With someone who listened.
Who saw her.
Who didn't lie.
She smiled. "Yeah. I'd like that."
---
On Monday morning, Ava stood in front of her mirror, wearing a sleek black jumpsuit of her own design. Her hair was braided back into a crown, her lips soft nude, her eyeliner sharp.
It was the student gallery day — the biggest event of the semester.
Sasha handed her a small pendant necklace. "Wear this. It's from my mom. She said it protects dreamers."
Ava clasped it around her neck.
Outside the venue, photographers, scouts, and students filled the space like a scene from Project Runway. Caleb found her by the entrance and gave her a reassuring nod.
"You ready?" he asked.
"As I'll ever be."
They entered the gallery together.
Their design stood tall in the center: clean, powerful, layered like a metaphor Ava didn't have to explain. The judges passed by, taking notes. Other students whispered. Her professor smiled with pride.
For the first time in months, Ava felt... seen.
Not as Jordan's girlfriend.
Not as the heartbroken girl.
But as Ava Blake. Designer. Survivor. Creator.
Then, in the distance, she saw something — someone.
A tall figure, baseball cap low, hands in hoodie pockets, standing near the back of the crowd.
Her chest tightened.
It was Jordan.
He didn't approach.
He didn't say anything.
Just watched.
From afar.
Then, slowly, turned and disappeared through the crowd.
Ava stood still, pulse racing, but... something was different this time.
She didn't feel fear.
She didn't feel the urge to chase.
She felt closure.
---