He pushed the door open anyway.
Slowly.
Like entering something sacred.
Ava looked up.
And the air changed.
She was pale, exhausted, her hair pulled back loosely, strands falling across her face. But it wasn’t the physical change that hit him.
It was her eyes.
Calm.
Steady.
Done.
She didn’t look surprised to see him.
She looked… finished with him.
“You came,” she said softly.
Not relief.
Not anger.
Just a statement.
Elias stepped inside, closing the door behind him.
“I didn’t know,” he said immediately. “Ava, I swear to you—if I had known—”
“You would’ve done what?” she asked gently.
The question landed harder than anger ever could.
He had no answer.
Because the truth?
He didn’t know.
His gaze shifted.
To the bassinet beside her bed.
Small.
Still.
