**Chapter 57: The Lingering Pain** **Emma** “I can’t wrap my head around it! Ava is a Howell,” Travis exclaims as we step into our parents' home, the door creaking ominously behind us. His words linger in the air like a distasteful cloud, and I can hardly come to grips with the shocking revelation myself. Every bit of news has stacked up into a surreal mountain, and I feel like I’m tumbling down its rocky slope. “I know, right?” I mutter, every syllable tinged with disbelief. For a fleeting moment, I thought I had a firm grip on this twisted game of life. Discovering that Ava was adopted had brought a moment of vindication. But that moment shattered like fragile glass when Ethan casually revealed the truth about her parents — wealthy, influential, and well-connected. My heart sank. I had clung to the hope that Ava hailed from a humble background, one that could cast a shadow over her glimmering present. Deep down, I longed for her to be at a disadvantage, for the cruel social ladder we climbed to have its rungs stacked in my favor. If only she came from a family that struggled and scraped by, then I could bask in the glow of superiority. In our circle, respect is a line drawn by lineage. Wealth matters, yes — but lineage matters more. My dreams of watching her become the subject of hushed whispers and judgment dissolved along with that hope. “Her family might not reside in our city, but they’re notorious. Just like Rowan’s,” I think grimly. The Howells hold power; they weave networks that sway the very fabric of this country. If they chose to announce Ava as their daughter, she would rise, shattering the already twisted dynamic by standing shoulder to shoulder with Rowan. “What are we going to do? How do we make her forgive us?” Travis's voice cuts through my spiraling thoughts, pulling me back into reality. Was he serious? Why on Earth would I seek her forgiveness? It should be Ava on her knees, begging for my understanding over the betrayal she wrought upon my life. “Why would we want her forgiveness?” I shoot back, bitterness dripping from my words. “Have you forgotten what she put me through?” “I remember, I do. But like her parents said, it’s in the past. She has suffered enough for her mistakes, and besides, we learned she was genuinely drunk,” he responds, his tone softening. Drunk? I scoff inwardly. Sure, that’s an explanation anyone could cling to. But I refuse to buy it. Ava had yearned for Rowan for what seems like forever. There’s no way the universe orchestrated a perfect storm of drunken coincidences. “I will never forgive her, Travis,” I assert, my voice laced with anger. The decision is as ironclad as my heart is heavy. The bitterness has gripped me tightly, and the thought of releasing it feels like severing a part of my very being. “Emma, she’s our sister. You have to let go of the past. You need to heal. Holding onto this pain isn’t good for you,” he implores, trying to cast a lifeline to my drowning heart. “Forgive her? Really? I wish that hired hand Ethan sent to eliminate her had done it before he showed up to save her,” I erupt, fury spilling from my lips. Without waiting for a response, I storm up the stairs, each step fueled by a whirlwind of frustration. Slam! The door swings shut behind me with the ferocity of my anger. Does no one understand how excruciating this is for me? The struggle to move past this torment is an uphill battle I feel ill-equipped to fight. It continues to hurt. Each dawn and twilight carries the same ache, a weight I inhale deeply, only to expel it again — yet its essence clings to my soul. The pain has burrowed inside me, intertwining with my existence, making it feel impossible to imagine life without it. I know it’s toxic, a poison coursing through my veins, yet I remain trapped in this cycle of torment. I find it impossible to release the grip of hatred I harbor for Ava. Every ounce of my being screams that she stole everything from me. All that I coveted was Rowan, and she took him away before I realized I was losing him. I had meticulously crafted my life around a future with him, so certain that we were destined to be together, only to have that dream snatched away from me. Even now, after returning with the spark of hope flickering between us, she had to barge in and ruin everything. Rowan hardly notices me anymore. Since that disastrous dinner, he has barely reached out, his gaze fixated on her. With each passing moment, I feel the cold claws of jealousy dig deeper. Once again, she’s claiming him as her own. It’s a bitter pill to swallow, but things have undeniably shifted; Rowan is no longer the boy who fell in love with me. Some part of him now holds feelings for her — I can sense it lurking in the air between them. The haunting thought of him being in love with her sends icy tendrils of fear wrapping around my heart. The very idea of that would shatter whatever remains of my spirit. I pull out my phone, desperate for a lifeline, and dial my best friend. “Hi love,” Molly’s melodic voice greets me on the other end, like a beacon in my despair. “I’m falling apart, Molly. Everything feels like it’s crumbling down.” My voice trembles as I collapse onto my bed, fighting back the surge of tears threatening to spill over. The exhaustion weighs heavily on my shoulders, each breath a reminder of the burdens I carry. “Why don’t you share what’s plaguing you? Let’s tackle it together,” she offers, her tone soothing and inviting. So, I open up, recounting every painful detail since our last conversation, each word a fragile echo of my torment. Rehashing it all brings new daggers to my heart. The prospect of a life shared with Rowan feels impossibly distant now, snuffed out by Ava. Nine years apart had been a long stretch, yet when we dared to reconnect, everything felt right again — until she stepped back into the picture. “Emma, I have to say, I somewhat agree with Ava,” Molly starts, and my heart sinks instantly. “You what?” I almost choke on my disbelief. “Just hear me out. I don’t root for Ava, but you crossed a line when you threatened her son. And all those lies to Rowan? That’s not you, Emma. Manipulation won’t draw him closer; in fact, they’ll only push him away.” “But…” I stammer, grasping at straws. “Second, if I’m right, Ava isn’t the real issue here. She seems to be distancing herself. I can’t blame her if she wants to escape the chaos that a man has spent nine years loving, still fixating on your sister. The real hurdle lies with Rowan — he’s either confused about his feelings or blissfully unaware of them where Ava is concerned,” she continues, pausing to gauge my reaction. Each word lands like a punch to my gut. The threat of Rowan’s deeper feelings for Ava sends shockwaves of anguish through me. “Third, you’ve got to heal. As long as you wish for Rowan, Ava will remain a fixture due to Noah. Your ongoing conflict isn’t just draining for you — it jeopardizes Noah’s well-being, and if it plants seeds of doubt in Rowan’s mind, he might choose to walk away.” Her counsel, while wise, feels out of reach. I can’t envision a scenario where Ava and I find common ground. Each time I see her, the memory of that fateful day when Rowan betrayed me floods back. The bitter sting of knowing he jumped into bed with her while I waited for that perfect moment to make love feels unbearable. Their history eclipses my own, and it haunts every thought I have. “Lastly, Emma, you need to come clean,” Molly states firmly, pulling me back into the urgency of the moment. “Why would I do that?” I whisper, a surge of fear closing tight around my chest at the thought of my secrets spilling into the light. “Because it’s time to own up, Emma. Deep down, you know you’re not being fair to him. Just consider it,” she urges, her frustration palpable. She has persisted on this path for years, and while there’s a sliver of truth in her words, I’m not ready for that confrontation, not yet. I want to cling to my secret just a little while longer, unwilling to confront the inevitable disappointment it will bring when it unravels. And so, here I am, suspended in pain and turmoil, caught between a past I can’t escape and a future that feels increasingly uncertain.