Page 35 of From Fake Dates to Forever Goals

“My parents got divorced when I left for college,” I explain. “They both wanted different things in life but wanted to give me a two-parent household growing up, so they waited. I think that takes a lot of strength.”

I look down, tracing my finger over the crease in the sheet.

“My parents split up when I was five. It was tough having two homes to go to,” Ava says sadly. “But my parents never let their personal feelings get in the way of parenting me. They were great parents even after the divorce.”

I can see her parents’ separation affects her despite the amicable picture she paints.

“It was hard for me, having to come back home and know that my father had moved out. It wasn’t until I returned for summer break that I knew they were divorced.” At the time, it felt like a betrayal, but looking back, I’ve come to understand their decision better.

Ava squeezes my hand, and it feels like warm reassurance.

We grow silent for a moment before Ava turns her head toward me, moving up and kissing me. I kiss her back. It’s a sweet and intimate moment, and neither of us wants anything more from it other than the comfort it gives us.

We are lost in each other, ending the night in each other’s arms.

When morning comes, I wake up to find the bed empty. I hear noises coming from the kitchen. I find Ava there, making breakfast.

“I was just about to wake you up,” Ava says, setting the table for breakfast. “I want to get to the hospital soon; visiting hours just started.”

I hadn’t realized how late it was—almost 10 a.m. After finishing breakfast, Ava and I head to the hospital to visit my mother.

While I’m sitting by my mom’s side, Ava rushes in, her lips curving into an excited smile. Both my mother and I turn to her expectantly.

“I have good news,” Ava says, practically glowing. “I overheard a couple of nurses saying you’ll be going home in a few days!” She cheers, looking directly at my mother.

The relief on my mom’s face mirrors my own. We’re all overjoyed to hear she’s finally well enough to go home.

After leaving the hospital, I decide to take Ava to a place very close to my heart—a place I’ve never shared with anyone before. I want her to see it, to experience it with me.

We drive past the countryside until we reach the edge of a cliff. The view is breathtaking.

“I have a surprise for you,” I say as we step out of the car.

Ava joins me at the cliff’s edge, the entire Chicago skyline sprawling before us. She hugs herself as a cool breeze brushes past her.

“You’re not pushing me off, right?” she jokes, her laughter blending with the rustling wind. Then, her gaze softens as she takes in the view. “I’ve never seen anything like this,” she says sincerely, her voice full of wonder.

“That’s not the surprise,” I say, taking her hand and guiding her to a spot just beneath a small bush.

She watches curiously as I pull out my penknife and begin digging. Ava hesitates but eventually joins me, getting her hands dirty as we dig together.

“What are we looking for?” she asks, her tone equal parts curiosity and amusement.

“You’ll see,” I reply, focused on the task.

Finally, our hands hit something solid—a small metal box buried deep in the soil.

“It’s still here,” I murmur, brushing away the dirt.

Ava pulls it out and opens it, her expression shifting to one of confusion as she peers inside.

One by one, I take out the objects: an eagle’s feather, a pack of cards wrapped in string, and a few folded pieces of paper.

I hold up the eagle’s feather, smiling at the memory it holds. “I found this the day my father and I went camping,” I explain.

Ava picks up the pack of cards. “And this?”

“My grandfather gave them to me just before he passed,” I reply, my voice tinged with nostalgia.

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