Chapter 63

Tiffany’s POV

The streets of Lyon glistened under the sun, the cobblestones shining like wet mirrors. I inhaled the scent of bread, coffee, and the floral aroma from the flower market.

The café—a haven of warmth and possibility—hummed with the energy of a new day. The idea belonged to Mom.

She had an uncanny way of seeing what I needed long before I did. She convinced me that I could start again, that I could build something new, even after everything had shattered.

I watched Ethan, a whirlwind of motion, run between the tables with a crumpled paper airplane, laughing with abandon. His laughter bounced off the walls, a high-pitched melody mingling with the clatter of porcelain and the conversation of our customers.

Leah and Charles moved through the café, their presence steady, each one filling a role without instruction. Jeh, Ethan’s caretaker, allowed me to breathe without the weight of guilt. She was perfect at her job—patient, thoughtful, and kind.

I sank into my chair behind the counter for a moment, letting my gaze linger on the room. Everything seemed right. Pieces of my life, once scattered, were finding their places.

It was not flawless. But it was mine, and that ownership made it enough.

I managed a smile, a private expression that carried the weight of years of longing and grief, of hope rebuilt, and heartbreak healed. Even here, with Ethan’s laughter and the hum of the café, I could not silence the part of me that ached for Avery.

It was selfish to think of her, to want her to appear and see me surviving in this corner of the world we promised to share forever. But I could not help it.

As I poured lattes and managed delivery schedules, as I guided Ethan’s hand through his coloring book, a whisper of hope remained: If she still loves me… if she still remembers the woman I was… maybe she will come and find me.

“Mom,” I said, glancing at her as she arranged a display of croissants, “I think it is starting to feel like home.”

She turned to me, her eyes warm and full of pride. “Of course it is, darling. You have earned this. You have fought for this. Look at Ethan—look at everyone. You did this, Tiffany.”

My chest tightened, a lump of gratitude forming in my throat, and I nodded, unable to speak. “I just want to hold onto it. I don’t want to lose this peace.”

“You won’t,” Mom said, reaching out to brush a strand of hair from my cheek. “You are careful now, and you have learned from everything that happened. And besides… you have people who care about you, Tiffany. You are not alone.”

I let her words sink in. She was right. I had my son, my makeshift family, and the team in the café who were more like friends than employees.

We were connected by shared trust and precious victories. And yet… my thoughts drifted to Avery.

I leaned back in my chair, sipping the aromatic coffee I had prepared for myself, and closed my eyes. I imagined her—tall, poised, radiating confidence, the way she must command the boardroom now.

I could see the gleam of authority in her eyes, the curve of her lips when she executed a shrewd business decision, the way her hair caught the light as she moved through her domain. She had become what I hoped she would become.

For a moment, a selfish part of me felt happy for her. So happy, I whispered inwardly, the truth a wave over my soul.

The bell above the door jingled, and Ethan’s sharp giggle brought me back to the present. I smiled down at him, ruffling his hair. “Be careful, little tornado,” I said. “We don’t need another paper airplane disaster near the espresso machine.”

Leah came over, balancing a tray of pastries on her forearm. “Mom says you are glowing today,” she teased, dusting flour from her apron.

“I am content,” I admitted, looking around the café, seeing its beauty. “It feels like I am allowed to just be happy without fear.”

Charles leaned against the counter, arms crossed, a smirk playing on his lips. “Finally. Took you long enough. I have been waiting for this day.”

I laughed, the sound light and easy. “Better late than never, isn’t it?” I replied, feeling the warmth of these moments wrap around me like a blanket.

Yet even as I laughed, as I moved through the motions of my daily life—taking orders, stirring lattes, listening to Ethan’s winding questions—the ache of longing remained. I did not allow it to consume me; I had learned how to live with the absence, how to thrive in the empty spaces.

But I could not erase the truth: Avery was an essential part of me, and a resilient part of me would always hope she found her way back.

I had built something beautiful here. I had carved a life of laughter and purpose. But in the silent moments, when the café emptied and the sunlight waned, I allowed myself to whisper a name: Avery… if you still love me, come and find me.

Ethan tugged at my sleeve, breaking my reverie. “Mom! Can I try the new chocolate croissant?” he asked, his eyes wide.

I smiled, ruffling his hair. “Of course, little one. But careful, it is fresh and hot, alright?”

Leah brought over the tray of pastries, and Charles helped Ethan with a napkin. I watched them all—my son, my friends, my makeshift family—and felt a rush of gratitude and triumph.

The café was more than a business; it was a testament to endurance, to the power of rebuilding, to finding joy after heartbreak.

And yet… Avery’s shadow lingered, persistent but not painful. Not crushing, but soft, like a sad song remembered long after the music ended.

A reminder of what had been lost, and what might, one day, be found again. I looked out the window at the streets of Lyon, the whole city alive with a thousand possibilities.

My heart ached with a mixture of contentment and longing. I am happy, I whispered to myself, letting the words settle into my soul.

The day faded into evening, and the café glowed under the amber lights. Ethan slept in a cot tucked in the corner, Leah and Charles laughed as they closed up, Mom sipped her tea, and Jeh organized the supplies with efficiency.

I sat back, breathing in the calm, letting it wrap around me. This is my life now, I thought. Complete, beautiful, and mine. And I am happy.

But beneath it all, like a quiet heartbeat, remained a wish—a hope that one day—Avery would simply walk through the door, eyes bright, smiling at me the way she had once, in a life that seemed different. And when she does, I thought, we will see where the pieces fall.

The night deepened, and Lyon’s streets shimmered beneath the glow of the streetlights. Inside the café, warmth and light held the room in an embrace.

In the center of it all, I felt it—the contentment of a life rebuilt. The laughter, the conversations, the aroma of coffee and baked bread—it all sang a truth: I was happy.

And still… if Avery came, if she found me, if she still loved me… it could be even more. It could be everything.

The thought made my chest tighten with anticipation. For now, I let myself bask in the present, in the joy I had fought to reclaim.

Deep inside, a flicker remained, a promise to the part of me that had loved so fierce: I am here, Avery. And I am waiting.

The café was quiet in the early afternoon, sunlight spilling through the windows, casting long, peaceful shadows across the floor. I was arranging pastries on the display tray when my phone buzzed, its ringtone breaking the rhythm of the café.

I glanced at the screen and saw my father’s name. My chest tightened with a mix of curiosity and creeping tension.

I took a breath, wiped the flour from my hands, and answered the call. “Hello, Dad,” I said, trying to keep my voice light.

“Tiffany,” he said, his voice carrying that calm, measured tone he always had, the one that could soothe and command. “I wanted to talk to you about Avery.”

I froze, the tray slipping in my hands. My eyes focused on the counter as a knot of unease twisted in my stomach. “Yes, Dad?” I managed, forcing my voice to remain steady.

He sighed, an acknowledgment of the gravity of the subject. “She is thriving, Tiffany. More than anyone, even I, could have imagined. The board, the media, the corporate world… she is in control, commanding respect, leading with cold decisiveness.”

I closed my eyes, letting a swell of pride push against my chest. Of course she was.

She had always possessed that brilliant spark, that relentless fire. I had always known Avery was destined for this greatness. And yet…

“But,” Dad continued, his voice dropping, carrying a cautionary weight, “there is something else you should know. The Avery you knew—the one we all love—she is not entirely the same anymore. The softness, the kindness that defined her when she was vulnerable… it is tempered. Hardened.”

My breath caught, and I gripped the phone, my knuckles white. “Hardened?” I echoed, the word tasting like ash. “Dad… what do you mean?”

He paused, and I heard the hum of his study in the background. “I mean she has become ruthless in her corporate dealings. Calculated. Unflinchingly efficient. She simply does not let sentiment cloud her decisions anymore. The Avery who once hesitated, who cared for the well-being of the people around her… that Avery is still in there, I believe, but she has built an enormous wall around her heart. A strong one. It is essential for the empire she is building, but I know it must be terrifying for you to contemplate.”

I swallowed hard, my heart tightening with a mix of pride, fear, and renewed longing. “I know she has to be strong now,” I admitted, my voice a whisper. “But it is hard to imagine her like this. The gentle, vulnerable Avery… she cannot be gone, replaced by someone I barely recognize.”

My father’s voice softened, comforting, as if he could feel the ache in my chest. “I understand, Tiffany. I really do. But you need to know one thing. While she has grown strong, ruthless even, she has not touched us. The Kingston business interests, our legacy—she is making sure the corporate world only roars for Von Carters. She has been careful not to interfere with what we have built here. She respects the boundary.”

I exhaled, a tide of relief mingling with fresh fear. My lips curved into a tentative smile of gratitude. “I know, Dad. I trust her. Avery would never intentionally cross that line of personal loyalty. Rest assured.”

“Good,” he said, his voice carrying warmth, pride, and a hint of caution. “I just wanted to prepare you. To let you know what you will be seeing if you ever happen to meet her in the corporate world now. She has changed. And in that world, she needs to be. But she is still Avery. Deep down, the gentle, kind Avery you know… she is still there, waiting.”

I closed my eyes, picturing her, tall, poised, exuding cold, terrifying authority, her sharp eyes cutting through meetings with clinical precision. I could hear the click of her heels echoing through a silent boardroom, the firmness of her voice issuing commands, leaving no room for hesitation.

She had become everything she needed to be to succeed—ruthless, brilliant, and unstoppable.

And yet, I ached for the softer, more vulnerable Avery I had known, the one who had felt like home. The one who would laugh at small jokes, who lingered in quiet moments of shared intimacy, who looked at me with raw warmth and vulnerability.

That Avery had been a sanctuary from the world, and now, though still present, she was buried beneath layers of armor I was not sure I could ever penetrate again.

I whispered to myself, a mixture of longing and hope: I hope she still remembers… still feels… still cares.

Dad’s voice brought me back from my thoughts. “Tiffany… I know it is frightening to see her this way, or even to hear of it. But please remember—her ruthlessness is only her armor. She is protecting something bigger than even the company. And she has not forgotten the people who truly matter to her.”

I nodded, even though he could not see me. “I know, Dad. I just… I miss her. The Avery I knew. But I am so proud of her, too. I really am. So proud.”

He chuckled, a low, comforting sound that settled my nerves. “You always have that good heart, Tiffany. And that is why I am not worried about you. Because you understand her, fundamentally. And she understands you, in her own private way. Just give her time, darling.”

I exhaled, letting the last of the tension drain from my shoulders. “Time,” I repeated. “Yes. I will wait. Always. No matter how long it takes.”

Dad’s voice softened, gentle but firm with conviction. “Good. That is all I wanted to hear. You are stronger than you realize, Tiffany. And Avery… she is stronger than she looks. Just remember that truth.”

We ended the call, and I set the phone down, leaning against the counter, weary. Ethan was sketching in a notebook in his corner, absorbed in his private world.

Leah and Charles moved through the café, tending to customers with ease. Jeh polished the counter, her movements calm and professional.

I watched them all, letting the warmth of the café and the stable life I had built seep back into me. Everything was falling into place.

My son was happy, the café was thriving, and my friends were around me. And still… the thought of Avery lingered, like a persistent echo.

I poured myself a cup of coffee, its warmth seeping into my hands, and took a sip. “She is thriving,” I whispered to myself, tracing the sunlight across the floor. “But she is… different. Strong. Ruthless. Hard. And I am terrified of what that means for us.”

Ethan’s sharp laughter broke through my thoughts, and I smiled. I watched him, Leah and Charles attending to him with patience. Jeh adjusted a chair near the counter, glancing at me with a knowing smile that contained a thousand unspoken thoughts.

Everything felt right. Safe. Balanced. And yet, my heart still beat with a relentless, unyielding hope.

Because somewhere, out there, Avery was ruling the corporate world, brilliant, unyielding, commanding respect, and I still hoped, foolishly perhaps, that one day, she would find me. That despite the cold ruthlessness, despite the armor she wore, the soft, vulnerable Avery—the Avery who had once held my heart—would remember us. Would remember me.

And I would wait. I would wait as long as it took, with patience. Because no matter how strong, how hard, how brilliant she had become… a part of her would always be mine. And I trusted that she would not forget the love we had shared.

The café hummed with life, the aroma of coffee and baked bread filling the air. I sipped my coffee, letting it ground me in the present moment, and whispered into the golden light: I am happy. So happy. And yet… Avery… I hope you find me. I hope you come.

As the city of Lyon stretched beyond the windows, alive and bustling, I felt the spark of hope flare in my chest. The world could change, people could drastically change, even the invincible Avery could change—but some things remained constant.

My love for her, and my unshakable hope that one day… she would walk through that door, and everything would be complete again.

✦ 𝐓𝐨 𝐁𝐞 𝐂𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐮𝐞𝐝… ✦