The call came at an inconvenient time, just as Ava was setting up a new canvas in the quiet of her studio.
She could hear the ringing from the other room, and her heart skipped at the unfamiliar number flashing on the screen. It was the type of call that felt too important to ignore but also too heavy to answer.
Max was sitting across the room from her, flipping through an old book he'd picked up at the bookstore, his brow furrowed in concentration. He didn't seem to notice her hesitation.
Ava swallowed, then picked up the phone. "Hello?"
"Ava," the voice on the other end said, smooth and familiar. "It's David. I've got a proposition for you. And I think it's time to talk about your next move."
Ava's stomach churned. David was her old agent, the one who had pushed her to take on art shows she wasn't ready for, the one who'd told her that art was only worth anything if it was sold. She hadn't spoken to him in over a year, not since she decided to focus on her own healing rather than the art world's demands.
"I'm not interested in your offers, David," she said, trying to keep the edge of irritation from her voice.
"I'm not offering you a show," he said quickly, his voice suddenly more urgent. "I've got something else in mind. Something big. A publisher's looking for a feature on artists who've found inspiration in isolation. You'd be perfect for it, Ava."
Ava was quiet, her gaze flicking to Max across the room. She could feel his eyes on her now, sensing the shift in the atmosphere.
"David, I told you I was done with that world," she said, her tone firmer now.
"I know, but this is different. They're offering a substantial contract. And this could open doors for you real doors, Ava. Don't you want that?"
She bit her lip, her thoughts whirling. Do I want that? Was that the life she wanted to go back to? The pressure, the expectations? Or had she found something more here, with Max, in this quiet town?
"I'm not the same person I was when I worked with you," Ava said softly, almost to herself. "I don't need the spotlight anymore."
"Maybe you don't need it, but it's something you could still have," David pushed. "Think about it. I'll send over the details."
Before she could reply, he hung up.
Ava stood there for a long moment, staring at the phone in her hand. The familiar weight of old ambitions settled on her chest, but it felt different now. She didn't know what to make of the pull inside her the lure of a career that had once consumed her, the opportunity to be seen again.
Max was standing now, looking at her with a quiet, measured gaze. He didn't need to ask who was on the other end of the call.
"What did he say?" he asked.
Ava dropped the phone on the counter, not wanting to hold it any longer. "An offer. A big one."
Max stepped toward her, his voice steady but filled with something deeper. "Are you going to take it?"
She met his eyes, and in that moment, she realized just how much had changed. How much she had changed. "I don't know."
Max nodded slowly. He was quiet for a long moment, his thoughts unreadable.
Finally, he spoke, his voice soft but carrying a weight she hadn't expected. "Ava, I've been offered something, too."
She blinked. "What do you mean?"
He ran a hand through his hair, looking suddenly conflicted. "I got a call from my editor. They want me to write a book about the town. About you."
Ava's breath caught in her throat. "About me? About us?"
Max looked away, guilt flickering in his eyes. "About the town. About the people who live here, and how they find meaning in a place like this. They want me to tell the story of the quiet ones artists, writers, people who choose to settle down. It's supposed to be my next big project."
She took a slow step back, the words hitting her like waves crashing against the shore. "Max… you're leaving, aren't you?"
He didn't answer immediately. His eyes were soft, regretful. "I don't know. They're offering me a chance to work with them full-time. To go on bigger assignments, travel more. It's everything I've worked for."
Ava's heart twisted. She knew what he was doing, what he was telling her but part of her had hoped it wouldn't come to this.
"What does that mean for us?" she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.
Max exhaled slowly, the weight of the question hanging in the air. "I don't know. I didn't think it would come to this. I didn't expect to want to stay here. Not like this."
Ava turned away, looking out the window at the town below. The ocean waves were a soft hum in the distance, but her thoughts felt as chaotic as the tide crashing against the rocks.
She wasn't sure she was ready to let go of him but she also wasn't sure she could let him stay, knowing it would pull him back into the life he was trying to escape.
She could feel the tension between them, thick and unspoken, like two people holding onto something they were afraid to lose. But they couldn't hold on forever, not like this.
Finally, she spoke, her voice trembling slightly. "I think we both have to figure out who we are without what we thought we wanted."
Max didn't reply. He didn't have to.
They were standing at a crossroads, both of them carrying pieces of the past they weren't sure how to leave behind