His Silence

Ava

I stood frozen in the hallway, every word echoing in my mind.

Chloe’s voice, thick with emotion, and Orion’s responses, calm and measured, struck me like shards of glass.

“I’m not leaving you for Ava.”

The weight of those words felt like a dagger. It wasn’t just what he said; it was the certainty in his tone, the way he tried to comfort her while I stood here, invisible.

I had been naïve—thinking I could be more to him than a placeholder. The reality was clear now. I was nothing more than a name on paper to Orion.

This just confirmed the photo Chloe sent to me earlier. I had my doubts because he was with me all through the night.

But then I remembered.

He left after our first argument and came back drunk. What if that period of time was all it took to get straight into her bed?

I feel like such a big loser.  I turned away before Orion could make up a silly excuse, my legs carrying me to my room at the west wing with a speed I didn’t think possible.

My heart raced, but not from sadness. No, this wasn’t heartbreak anymore.

This was pure anger.  I slammed the door behind me and leaned against it, struggling to catch my breath. My chest burned with the weight of emotions I refused to let out.

He wasn’t worth my tears. None of this was.  The room felt suffocating as memories of our fleeting moments together replayed in my mind.

The stolen glances, the rare tenderness in his eyes, the quiet promises I thought I saw but now realized were just my own hopes reflected back at me.

How stupid I’d been to believe I mattered to him. I believed his lies. I fell right into their trap!

I strode to my closet and pulled out my bag. It was time to give them space. I wouldn’t stay here a second longer, waiting for scraps of affection while he comforted the woman who clung to him like a lifeline.

As I began tossing my clothes into the bag, my hands shook—not from fear, but from the sheer force of my resolve.

This wasn't a sign of weakness. This was strength. I am not running away. No.  I grabbed the essentials, not caring about order or neatness.

Every item I packed felt like shedding another layer of the person I’d been—the girl who waited, who hoped, who tolerated being second to someone who was meant to be hers.

That naive girl was finally gone.

The sound of the door opening behind me made me freeze. I didn’t have to turn around to know who it was.

His presence filled the room like a storm, heavy and unavoidable.  “Ava,” Orion said, his voice low and almost hesitant.

I didn’t respond. I continued packing, my movements deliberate and unbothered. If he thought he could sway me with words, he was mistaken.

“Ava, stop,” he said again, more forcefully this time. I heard the door close behind him, trapping us in the room together.

I straightened and turned to face him, my expression cold and unyielding. “What do you want, Orion?”

His jaw tightened, and for a moment, he didn’t say anything. He just stood there, his eyes searching mine. “You’re leaving.”

“Brilliant observation,” I said, my voice dripping with sarcasm. I turned back to my suitcase, zipping it up as if his presence didn’t affect me.

“You can’t just leave,” he said, stepping closer.  I whipped around, my anger finally bubbling to the surface.

“Why not? Because you haven’t finished using me yet? Because you need someone to play the media wife while you  sleep with Chloe in the next room?”

His face darkened, but he didn’t deny it. Of course, he wouldn’t. I had caught him red-handed!

“Ava, it’s not what you think—”

“Don’t,” I interrupted, my voice sharp. “Don’t you dare try to explain this away. I heard everything, Orion. Everything. You made your choice, and it’s not me. So don’t stand there pretending you care.”

“I do care,” he said, his voice rising in frustration. “You don’t understand—”

“No, you don’t understand,” I shot back, my hands clenched into fists.

“I’m done, Orion. Done with the lies, the half-truths, the way you dangle me on a string while Chloe whispers in your ear. I deserve better than this. I deserve better than you.”

The words hung in the air like a challenge, and for a moment, I thought he might walk away. But he didn’t.

Instead, he took another step toward me, his eyes locking onto mine with an intensity that made my breath hitch.  “You think I don’t care about you?” he said, his voice low and dangerous. “You think this is easy for me? I’m trying my best here. I even had Peter demoted!”

I laughed bitterly. “You didn’t do anything for me. And you’re right, Orion. I don’t think you care. Because if you did, you wouldn’t keep choosing her over me.”

Why did I even say that out loud? I should really stop talking right now. Why am I sounding like a jealous lover? He didn’t promise me anything!

His hands curled into fists at his sides as he watched me, his body taut with tension. “It’s not like that.”

“Then tell me what it is,” I demanded, my voice breaking, ignoring the signals going off in my head to keep quiet. “Tell me why I should stay. Tell me why I should keep pretending this marriage means anything when you can’t even look at me without guilt in your eyes.”

He opened his mouth to speak, but no words came out. The silence stretched between us, thick and suffocating. I could see it in his eyes—the battle he was fighting with himself.

He wanted to say something, but he couldn’t. Or wouldn’t.  And that was all the answer I needed.

The moment I saw that picture Chloe sent, I knew it right then. This has all been a mistake. And I’m hell bent on not falling prey again.

I grabbed my suitcase and moved past him, my shoulders brushing against his as I headed for the door. But just as I reached for the handle, his hand shot out, gripping my wrist.

“Ava, wait,” he said, his voice softer now, almost pleading.  I turned to face him, my heart pounding in my chest. His hand on my wrist was warm, grounding, but I refused to let it sway me.

“What?” I asked, my voice barely above a whisper.

He stared at me, his jaw working as if he was struggling to get the words out. His eyes, usually so guarded, were filled with something I couldn’t quite place.

“I—” He stopped, the word catching in his throat. He closed his eyes for a moment, as if trying to summon the courage to continue.

My heart twisted painfully in my chest. I wanted him to say it, to prove me wrong, to give me a reason to stay.

I can’t believe that I’m actually expecting an excuse from him after what I saw and heard.

The seconds stretched longer than I expected, but when he opened his eyes again, I saw the hesitation, the fear.

“Forget it,” he muttered, letting go of my wrist.  I stared at him, my chest tight with disappointment.

“Have a good one, Orion.”

And with that, I walked out, leaving him standing there in the suffocating silence of his own making.