Chapter Eighteen: The Word That Changed Everything
Damien
He didn't expect it.
He'd heard Ava call him "Damien" a thousand times in the last few weeks—but never Dad from Liam.
He wasn't rushing it. He didn't even think Liam fully understood what a father was supposed to be. All he knew was that the little boy smiled a little easier now when he showed up. Asked more questions. Laughed louder.
Today was different, though.
They were building a Lego city on the living room floor. Ava was folding laundry in the next room, music low and soft in the background. Liam was deep in concentration, tongue poking out of the side of his mouth.
"Can you pass me the square one?" he asked without looking up.
Damien handed it to him.
"Thanks, Dad."
Silence.
Liam didn't flinch. He just kept building.
But Damien—
He forgot to breathe.
He looked toward the hallway where Ava had frozen, a clean T-shirt still in her hands, eyes wide and glassy.
She'd heard it too.
Liam didn't even realize what he'd said.
But it hit Damien like a train.
Not a title.
A second chance, spoken in three little letters.
Ava
She sat next to Damien that evening after Liam had gone to bed, both of them still stunned into softness.
"He doesn't even know what it means yet," she whispered.
Damien smiled. "He will."
A pause.
"You okay?" she asked.
He turned his head. "You?"
She let out a laugh—half breath, half tears. "I wasn't expecting it."
He nodded. "Me neither."
But something had shifted between them.
And neither of them wanted to undo it.
Bonus Mini-Scene: The Disaster Date
Flashback – Three Years Before the Divorce
Ava couldn't stop laughing.
They were soaked.
Utterly, completely drenched after a surprise rainstorm had ruined their reservation at the rooftop restaurant Damien had spent weeks booking.
"We could've just gone for pizza," Ava teased as they ducked under the restaurant awning.
Damien, hair slicked back, tie clinging to his chest, actually grinned. "I don't do pizza dates."
"You just did."
They ended up in a tiny diner with flickering lights, chipped menus, and the worst service in Manhattan.
Damien had never eaten fries with his fingers before that night. Or ketchup that came in a plastic packet.
She fed him a pickle and he made a face like he was dying.
And yet when he walked her home in wet dress shoes and asked, "Will you marry me one day?" she said:
"If you learn how to order pizza without using your assistant."