Five years after the divorce, I ran into Jason in the designer section of a department store. The sales associate was just finishing boxing up the tie I’d chosen for my husband. Her tone brightened when she saw Jason approach. “Mr. Collins, good to see you. The suit your wife selected for you is ready.” The man gave a slight nod, his gaze lingering on the tie in my hand. “Add hers to my bill.” I politely declined, placing a few bills on the counter. He seemed to sigh. “Ava,” he said, his voice low, “it’s been so many years. You still hate me, don’t you?” I just smiled, saying nothing. Hate him? I didn’t have the time. I had let him go long ago. 1 I took the small shopping bag, dropped it casually into the canvas tote full of groceries, and walked out. The early autumn wind whipped around me. By the time I reached the bus stop, a place etched in my memory, my hair was plastered across my face, stinging my eyes. When I finally pushed the strands away, I saw Jason’s car idling in front of me. He saw my reddened eyes and his brow furrowed. “Get in. I’ll give you a ride.” “No, thank you. I’ll take the bus.” His eyes swept over me, from my simple clothes down to my sensible flats. When his gaze landed on the canvas tote slung over my shoulder, he asked, his voice cautious, “Have you… been doing okay these past few years?” “I’ve been great.” Jason obviously didn’t believe me. “Please, just get in. Let me drive you home.” The bus behind his car was laying on its horn, but he didn’t budge. With everyone staring, I had no choice but to get in. “Serenity Apartments,” I said, giving him the address. The car was silent for a moment before he spoke, his voice strained. “Why are you living there? That place is practically abandoned. It’s not safe for a woman alone, especially with…” He trailed off, unable to finish. But I knew what he was going to say. It was where my mother had died. Ten years ago today, she had refused to attend my wedding to Jason. Instead, she had jumped from the roof of that ten-story building. The back seat was spacious, but the heat was blasting. I cracked the window open. “You’ll catch a cold,” he said immediately. “Close it. If you’re hot, I can turn the temperature down.” I shook my head, a small smile on my face. “That doesn’t happen anymore. But do as you like.” He said nothing more. A moment later, his phone rang, the sound filling the car. “Honey, did you get the suit? Where are you now?” The voice coming through the speakers was familiar, but it held a playful, coquettish tone I’d never heard from her before. “I got it. I just ran into Ava. I’m giving her a ride.” Silence on the other end. “Ava’s back? It’s been so long! Why didn’t you say so? You’re having a reunion without me?” I had known Rosalie for over a decade and had never once heard her speak like that. She had always been quiet, reserved, an artist who poured her entire soul onto the canvas. When someone stole her spot in a competition, all she did was hide and cry. I was the one who had taken a baseball bat to the plagiarist’s entry, written a letter exposing the rigged contest, and spent three days in juvenile detention to get her justice. It’s true what they say. Unconditional love can make a person bloom. “It was just a chance encounter. She has things to do. I’ll be home right after I drop her off.” “But a chance encounter means it’s fate! What’s wrong with buying an old friend dinner?” “Rosalie, stop it.” The other end went quiet. Jason had always been gentle when he was trying to placate someone, but once his mind was made up, no one could change it. Rosalie, of all people, should have known that better than I did. The call was abruptly ended just as the car pulled up to the apartment building. “Thanks,” I said, getting out. Jason’s eyes scanned the dilapidated surroundings before he called out to me. “Ava… can I ask who that tie was for?” “My husband.” He gave a weary smile, rubbing his forehead as if he thought I was just saying it to spite him. “It’s the same brand, the same style you used to buy for me five years ago.” “And?” I met his gaze, my own perfectly calm. “You don’t have to pretend to be strong in front of me. After all this time, all I ever wanted was for you to be happy. Not… like this.” Like what? My reflection in the glass door of the building showed a woman in a casual tracksuit and flats, carrying a tote bag overflowing with groceries. The picture of an ordinary person struggling to make ends meet. But for someone who had grown accustomed to designer clothes and fine jewelry, there was nothing wrong with this picture. I smiled, not the least bit offended. “I think I’m doing just fine.” For a moment, he looked completely lost. “Ava… you’re really not the same person you used to be.” “No,” I said. “A lot of people say that.” I turned and walked away, and this time, I didn’t look back. I climbed the five flights of stairs and unlocked the door. The apartment was exactly as it had been this time last year. My mother’s black-and-white portrait sat next to the old television, the candle in front of it long since extinguished. I expertly replaced it with a new one, tied on an apron, and went into the kitchen. I quickly prepared a simple meal, setting a bowl of rice at the empty place across from me. I ate slowly. “Mom, I saw Jason today.” “Don’t worry, he can’t hurt me anymore. And I’m not as stupid as I used to be.” Only silence answered me. I had no appetite. I put down my chopsticks, went into the bedroom, and pulled out an old photo album. “Let’s look at how beautiful you were. These old black-and-white photos are so boring.” Before I could even open it, a single photograph slipped out and fluttered to the floor. When I bent to pick it up, I saw the faces. Jason. Me. Rosalie. Three young, beaming faces, laughing recklessly for the camera. I was in the middle, my arms linked through theirs, my smile the biggest of all—a gap where my right canine tooth should have been made me look goofy and utterly happy. That was the summer I turned thirteen. Loan sharks had shown up at Jason’s house, screaming and threatening to kill his family. None of the neighbors dared to intervene, not even my parents. But I ran out. The fist that was meant for Jason’s face caught me instead. My tooth shattered on impact. My face was swollen for a month. My mother, her heart aching for me, told me to stay away from the Collins family. But then Jason’s mother, her legs disabled, dragged herself to our house and knelt before my parents, banging her head on the floor as she thanked them. My mother’s heart softened. For the next ten years, there was always an extra bowl and set of chopsticks for Jason at our dinner table. Whenever we got new clothes for the holidays, there was always something for him, too. When my mother wasn't busy, she’d help his mother with her street stall, and if anyone tried to bully her, my mother would unleash a fury so fierce they’d never dare come back. They called each other sisters. No one could have predicted that the timid, stuttering younger sister would crawl into the older sister's husband's bed. I came home to find our apartment destroyed. My mother stood in the middle of the room, sobbing uncontrollably, the five angry red finger marks on her cheek a terrifying sight. My father stood protectively in front of another woman. His mother. “Let’s get a divorce,” my father said. “You can have everything. All I want is Susan.” Jason, who was standing beside me, went pale and reached for his mother’s hand. My mother slapped him. Twice. Hard. I shoved her. She stumbled and fell, staring up at me in disbelief. I was crying too, but my words were like daggers. “Mom, how could you hit Jason?” The memories swirled, a chaotic mess, finally settling on the small photograph in my hand. After Jason and I divorced, I burned everything that had to do with him. I couldn't believe this one had survived. Just as I was about to toss it in the trash, there was a knock at the door. I assumed it was Mrs. Gable from downstairs, who always stopped by at this time of year. I opened it without thinking. But it was Rosalie, holding onto Jason’s arm. She beamed at me. “Ava! It’s been so long! You haven’t changed a bit.” “Jason couldn’t say no to me. I hope we’re not interrupting, just showing up like this.” I looked at them both, my expression cool. “I won’t invite you in. Is there something you need?” Rosalie, having hit a wall, looked up at Jason with a wounded expression. “Rosalie just wanted to see you,” he said. “She brought you a gift. That’s all.” He stepped forward and placed a bag on the entryway cabinet. Rosalie immediately launched into her sales pitch. “I’ve been using this skincare line, and I absolutely love it. I had an extra set at home, and since we used to share everything, I thought I’d bring it to you.” I glanced down at the box. It looked like the same brand my housekeeper used. “That photo…” Rosalie’s eyes suddenly grew misty. “Ava, after all these years… you still haven’t let go, have you?” I crumpled the photograph in my hand and tossed it into the bin. “Don’t be ridiculous.” She reached for my hand, then stopped, her fingers hovering in mid-air. “I know you’re still holding a grudge. If you and Jason were still together, today would be your anniversary.” “What happened back then… I didn’t have a choice. If you’re really over it, then let us take you out to dinner. And if there’s anything you need, anything we can do to help, please tell us. We’re old friends, after all.” I was about to refuse without a second thought. Suddenly, the candle in front of my mother’s portrait crackled loudly. Pop. A small smile touched my lips. I changed my mind. “Alright.”
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