# Chapter 32: Dead to Me **Ava** Today, happiness enveloped me like a warm embrace. My dinner date with Ethan had exceeded my expectations, and the thrill of returning to work tomorrow only added to my excitement. Not to mention, the upcoming celebration of my birthday just a day away promised a burst of joy. Just as I had hoped for on Saturday, Ethan's presence worked like magic, helping me forget—if only for a little while—the chaos that had previously clouded my mind. Moments after stepping into his home, laughter spilled forth uncontrollably, filling the air with lightness. Ethan had prepared a meal that tantalized not just my taste buds but also my spirit. There’s something undeniably enchanting about a man who can whip up a delicious dinner while making you chuckle like a carefree child. That night unraveled with warmth and spontaneity, peaking when I returned home for a precious conversation with Noah. Our chat had been a soothing balm; Noah had calmed down significantly. We shared snippets of our lives, exchanging words about everything and nothing, until he drifted off to sleep still connected to our call. That simple connection transformed into the highlight of my day, a comforting reminder of what truly mattered. As I found solace in baking—a craving for cookies and chocolate cake directing my hands—there came an unexpected interruption. The knock at my door jolted me from my reverie. Wiping my hands on a kitchen towel, I opened the door, only to be met by the icy gaze of Emma. A jolt of irritation surged through me as I processed her presence. “What do you want, Emma?” I asked, my voice edged with annoyance. Her arrival was no harbinger of good tidings. The last time she showed up at my doorstep, the consequences had nearly cost me my life. With a stony expression, she proclaimed, “We need to talk.” A visceral rebellion stirred within me. Yet, against my better judgment, I ushered her into my living room, leading her to a space that felt all too personal for such a conversation. “Say what you came to say and then leave,” I commanded, settling into an armchair while eyeing her cautiously. She remained silent for a moment, surveying my home like a critic at an art show. When she finally spoke, a sneer twisted her lips. I rolled my eyes in response. Of course, my humble abode wouldn’t meet her standards. It lacked the gaudy extravagance she thrived on. Instead, my home was simply warm and inviting. “Are you going to critique my home the entire day or do you intend to talk?” I leaned back, crossing my arms. Evidently, Emma had no concept of the difference between a house and a home. Mine held a life-affirming warmth, while hers was undoubtedly a cold, empty space designed for appearances. “I’m here to tell you to stay away from Noah,” she said, crossing her legs with an air of authority. I sighed, exasperated. “Seriously? You came all this way just for this nonsense?” How many times would I have to reiterate my disinterest in Rowan? He had inflicted too much pain upon me for me to ever want him back. “It’s not nonsense,” she retorted, her voice sharp. “He wants to move on with me, but you keep dragging him back! Can’t you just let him go? He doesn’t love you, for heaven’s sake!” Though the words were intended to wound, they landed too close to home, stirring a familiar ache. I had long come to terms with the fact that I had fallen for a man who loathed my very existence. “And how have I dragged him back?” I asked, my disbelief palpable. “The attack two weeks ago,” she replied, her tone accusatory. “He rushed over here in the middle of our movie night just because he heard you were hurt.” I shook my head, incredulous. How could she be so blind? “How’s that my fault, Emma? He’s your man—put a leash on him, for Pete’s sake!” Was she not aware that she had emerged victorious? That I was desperately trying to move on with my life? I had found solace in Ethan, and I longed for our budding relationship to thrive untainted by the drama of her and Rowan. “I still think you’re just doing all this for attention and sympathy from him,” she mocked, her sneer deepening. “Get out!” I rose abruptly, pointing toward the door. I was done entertaining her nonsense. She wouldn’t steal the happiness I had cultivated that day. Emma stood as well, incredulous. “What? You don’t like that I’ve uncovered your little plan? Mark my words; it’s only a matter of time before everyone realizes these so-called attacks are just fake.” “Are you done demonstrating just how foolish you are?” I shot back, my patience wearing thin. “You think I’m faking these attacks, but here’s what I believe: You’re behind them. I have no enemies except for you, and who would benefit if I were to tragically disappear? You would.” Her eyes widened in disbelief, either shocked by my bold accusation or the fact that I had pieced it together. After reflecting on it, my theory made sense. Emma could very well want me out of the picture for two reasons: revenge and the misguided notion of ownership over Rowan’s life, feeling threatened by my mere existence. “How dare you!” she screamed, her voice laced with indignation. “No, how dare you come into my home spewing this nonsense?” I shot back. “We’re no longer kids, Emma. Grow up and act like the adult you pretend to be. Now leave. I’ve had enough of your drivel.” Her fury was palpable, etched across her face as if she could slay me with a mere glance. But I wouldn’t be intimidated; I refused to succumb. I tapped my legs impatiently. “Are you going to leave, or do you want me to drag you out?” With a sharp click of her tongue, she turned to walk away, filling me with a sigh of relief. But that moment was short-lived as she spun around to deliver her final blow. “One more thing: keep your son out of my business,” she spat, venom dripping from her words. “What did you just say?” A warning note inflected my voice. No way could she have just cursed at Noah. “His dislike for me won’t interfere with my relationship. He’s nothing but a brat, and once I'm married to Rowan, I’ll have him sent to a boarding school. Who does he think he is? He’s just a child and has no say in adult affairs. So either manage the brat, or I swear you’ll be seeing me twice every year.” The echo of my growing rage surged through me, and without thinking, my hand met her cheek. The slap echoed in the room, leaving her in shock as she turned to me, her wide eyes threatening tears. “Did you just slap me?” she stammered. “Yes, and if you don’t get the hell out of my life—” “You’ll pay for this!” she shrieked, stomping out of my house and slamming the door behind her. How could Rowan ever want someone like her around Noah? It baffled me. I struggled to comprehend the nasty words she directed at my son. What had happened to Emma? She was aloof, yes, but never this cruel. Leaning against the wall, I caught my breath, the happiness I had felt mere moments ago evaporating like mist in the sun. The oven chimed, signaling that my cookies were ready. As I gazed at them, the earlier excitement about indulging was now utterly extinguished. With a heavy heart, I abandoned them to cool and opted for the escape of a movie instead. An hour passed, yet my mind remained a swirling storm, too tumultuous to focus on the screen before me. I finally decided a bath could soothe my frayed nerves. I switched off the TV and started toward the stairs, but the relentless ringing of my doorbell struck me again. With a resigned sigh, I trudged to the door, expecting some overeager girl or boy scout trying to sell cookies. What met me instead was Rowan’s furious visage, sending a wave of regret crashing over me for even opening the door. Before I grasped the severity of the moment, he barreled inside, shutting the door with a decisive click behind him. He moved forward with purpose until we stood in the awkward space between the foyer and living room. “What the hell is wrong with you?” Rowan thundered, his anger a palpable force that made me shiver. “What?” I asked, bewildered. “Did you think Emma wouldn’t tell me? Or did you think I wouldn’t notice the handprint you left on her cheek?” He paced the floor, a storm of fury and indignation, while my heart sank. The reality of why he was here clawed at my chest. “You don’t understand,” I began, desperate to explain, but he cut me off. “Understand what? That you slapped her for no reason? That you’re hurling accusations without any proof? Or do you want me to understand all the hateful things you threw at her?” His eyes blazed with anger. I hadn’t intended for things to spiral like this; surely Emma didn’t relay the full story. “I won’t let you hurt Emma, do you hear me?” he warned, his voice dangerously low, sending a chill down my spine. This was a side of Rowan I had never encountered before, and for the first time, I felt true fear. “Rowan, it wasn’t like that. She…” “What? Told you she never loved you? She was right. Listen to me closely, Ava: you’re nothing, and you will remain nothing. You brag to her about sleeping with me when, in reality, I only wanted you because you were convenient,” he spat, an evil glint shining in his eyes. “Please stop,” I pleaded, fighting back the rising tide of tears, but he pressed on without mercy. “You tried to be a decent lay, but you weren’t even good at that. Every time I was inside you, it was Emma I desired. When I climaxed, it was her face I pictured. You were nothing special—just some easy screw I used.” In a moment compounded by disbelief and heartbreak, I slapped him. The force of my hand sent his head spinning, and my tears pooled and broke free, cascading down my cheeks as his cruel words cut me apart. “Leave, Rowan. Never set foot in my house again. Take your bodyguards with you. I do not need your help or your presence. From now on, you are dead to me,” I said brokenly, feeling every ounce of energy and resolve drain from my body. Hurt and rage twisted together as I turned away, stepping toward the stairs. I halted but refused to look back. “I’m giving you two minutes to leave before I call the cops,” I warned, continuing up the stairs. Once in my room, I locked the door behind me. Minutes later, I heard him exit, but it did little to comfort me. Crumbling under the weight of it all, I sank to the floor, utterly devastated. Rowan had shattered me with words alone, leaving my soul in tatters. Tears flowed relentlessly, each drop a testament to the gaping hole he had torn into my heart. Once again, I had been wronged, subjected to the poison of lies crafted by a woman I had once considered family. I swore to rise from this. I would collect every piece of my fractured spirit and move forward. But with each painful word he had flung at me, I knew that karma would find him—and Emma. I would never forgive him for today, nor would I forget.