Chapter Sixteen: Awakening

Ava sat in the stillness of her penthouse, the city lights twinkling in the distance. The chaos of the day had finally subsided, leaving behind an eerie calm that felt more unsettling than the violence itself. Her team had left hours ago, and even Jake had reluctantly retreated to give her space. She had insisted on being alone, though she wasn’t entirely sure why.

The weight of everything pressed down on her. The break-in, the threats, the unrelenting pressure of the fight—it was all too much. For a brief moment, Ava let herself lean back into the plush armchair and close her eyes. Just a moment to breathe, she told herself. Just a moment to let her guard down.

The sound of laughter jolted Ava awake. She blinked, disoriented, the familiar chaos of her kitchen coming into focus. The smell of cinnamon and roasted turkey filled the air, and the faint strains of holiday music played in the background. Her heart raced as she struggled to process her surroundings.

Noah stood by the counter, sneaking marshmallows from a bowl while Emily scolded him half-heartedly. Alex was in the living room, waving a remote at the television as he tried to find the parade. Chris stood by the stove, his back to her, stirring a pot with practiced ease.

It didn’t make sense. Ava’s mind reeled, trying to reconcile the stark contrast between where she was now and where she had just been. She felt the chair beneath her—a familiar kitchen chair, not the sleek, modern furniture of her penthouse. Her hands rested on a warm cup of coffee, steam curling upward in soft tendrils.

“Mom?” Emily’s voice cut through Ava’s thoughts. “Are you okay?”

Ava stared at her daughter, her heart pounding. “I… I’m fine,” she said, her voice shaky. “Just tired.”

Emily tilted her head, her eyes narrowing with concern. “You’ve been working too hard again. You promised you’d take it easy today.”

Ava nodded slowly, her mind racing. Was it possible? Could everything—the penthouse, the fight against Victor, the shadowy threats—have been a dream?

The morning unfolded with surreal familiarity. Ava moved through the motions of her family’s Thanksgiving traditions, each moment both comforting and disorienting. The sound of her children’s laughter, the warmth of Chris’s smile, the scent of her favorite holiday dishes—all of it felt real, more real than the cold, sterile world of her other life.

She found herself lingering in the small moments: the way Noah’s face lit up when he managed to snag another marshmallow, the way Chris hummed under his breath as he carved the turkey, the way Emily leaned into her as they sat on the couch together watching the parade.

For the first time in what felt like forever, Ava felt a deep, aching sense of peace.

As the day wore on, Ava couldn’t help but question the nature of what she had experienced. The fight against Victor had felt so vivid, so intense. She could still feel the tension in her chest, the weight of her decisions, the pull of Jake’s gaze. It had all been so real.

And yet, here she was. Home. Safe. Surrounded by the people she loved.

“Ava?” Chris’s voice brought her back to the present. He stood in the doorway, a dish towel slung over his shoulder, his brow furrowed with concern. “You’ve been quiet today. Everything okay?”

Ava looked at him, her throat tight. She thought of Jake, of the moments they had shared, of the kiss that had lingered on her lips even now. She thought of the fight, the risks, the unrelenting pressure to keep going no matter what.

“I’m fine,” she said softly, offering Chris a small smile. “Just… grateful.”

Chris’s expression softened, and he crossed the room to pull her into a hug. “We’re lucky to have you,” he said, his voice warm and steady. “I don’t know how you do it all.”

Ava closed her eyes, letting herself sink into his embrace. For the first time, she wasn’t sure if she could answer that question.

As the evening wound down and the kids were tucked into bed, Ava found herself alone in the living room. She sat by the window, staring out at the darkened neighborhood. The soft hum of the heater and the distant sound of Chris cleaning up in the kitchen were the only noises.

Her reflection stared back at her, and for a moment, she saw something she couldn’t quite place. A flicker of the woman she had been in that other life—the woman who had fought tooth and nail for something bigger than herself, who had faced fear and danger with a determination that felt impossible now.

She wondered if it had all been a manifestation of her subconscious, a way for her mind to process the stress and longing she carried every day. Or maybe it was something else—a glimpse into another version of herself, a life she might have lived under different circumstances.

Ava’s hand drifted to her lips, her thoughts briefly returning to Jake. His voice, his touch, the way he had believed in her—it felt like a ghost now, lingering at the edges of her memory.

The sound of Chris clearing his throat pulled her from her thoughts. He stood in the doorway, a soft smile on his face. “Coming to bed?” he asked.

Ava nodded, standing slowly. She crossed the room and took his hand, squeezing it gently. “Yeah,” she said. “I’m coming.”

The room was dark as Ava lay in bed, her eyes fixed on the ceiling. Her heart was heavy with questions she couldn’t answer, but she felt a quiet resolve settling over her. Whatever the dream had meant, whatever it had been, she would carry it with her. It had shown her something she hadn’t allowed herself to see for a long time—a strength she hadn’t known she had, a fire she thought had gone out.

As her eyes drifted shut, Ava felt a strange sense of peace. Her world was messy and imperfect, but it was hers. And for now, that was enough.