CHAPTER 16: Rain Between Us
The rain hammered against the window, a relentless rhythm that mirrored the pounding in Ava's chest. She sat at the edge of the bed, fingers frozen mid-air, as if the world had momentarily paused. Eli had left hours ago, and the silence in the house was now a heavy weight pressing down on her. She'd never known how loud the absence of someone could be.
Her fingers slid over the piano keys again, but they didn't find the comfort they used to. The notes were hollow, like a distant echo of what they once were. She had tried to play, tried to reach the place where music could soothe her, but the words, the chords, were gone. Everything felt like it was slipping through her fingers, like she couldn't hold onto anything—least of all Eli.
The door creaked open.
Ava's head snapped up. Her heart leapt in her chest, but it wasn't Eli.
It was Callum.
He stepped inside without a word, his presence filling the room like a storm waiting to break. His eyes were dark, unreadable, and his shoulders tensed as if carrying a weight only he understood.
"Callum," she whispered, barely able to find her voice. "What are you doing here?"
He didn't answer at first, just stood there, watching her. Then, his eyes flicked to the piano, where her hands still rested.
"You don't play anymore," he said, his voice low, almost… sad.
Ava stood, unsure of what to say. "I… I can't." The words left her lips with more defeat than she intended.
Callum's gaze softened. He knew. He always knew when something wasn't right, when the storm inside her had grown too loud to ignore.
"I heard what happened with Eli," he said, stepping closer. "I'm sorry. He's pushing everyone away."
Ava's chest tightened, and she shook her head, not wanting to admit what was breaking her inside. "I don't know what's happening anymore, Callum. The fire… the memories… it's all too much."
Callum's eyes softened with understanding, but there was a warning in his voice. "Sometimes, the hardest part isn't remembering what you've lost. It's remembering what you've tried to forget."
Her heart stuttered at his words. She knew he wasn't just talking about the past—they both carried ghosts they weren't ready to face. But Eli… Eli was the one who haunted her now.
"I don't want to lose him," she whispered, a tremor running through her voice.
Callum reached out, his hand resting gently on her shoulder. "You need to give him space. He's fighting his own demons."
Ava met his gaze, the weight of his words sinking into her like stones in water. "I don't know if I can," she murmured.
The rain continued to fall, its steady rhythm like the beating of her heart—a reminder of everything slipping through her fingers.
Callum paused, as if deciding whether to speak. When he did, his voice was low, almost tender. "There's something you're not seeing, Ava. Something he's not telling you. But if you want him to come back to you, you need to let him fight this battle on his own. You can't save him from his past… not yet."
Ava stared at him, the truth of his words sinking in. The battle wasn't just Eli's—it was hers too. She couldn't save him. Not until she found the strength to face the flames they both carried.
But just as the silence thickened between them, the door slammed open.
Eli.
His eyes were wild, his face drawn with exhaustion, and his hands—trembling, like they'd forgotten how to hold onto anything that mattered.
"Ava," he said, his voice raw with emotion. "I'm not… I'm not running anymore."
Ava's breath caught in her throat as she took a step toward him. But before she could speak, Eli's voice broke through the storm inside her.
"You were right," he whispered. "It's not the piano. It's me. I've been running from everything, from you. From us."
Ava's heart surged in her chest, the world spinning around her. The rain outside was no longer the only thing falling—tears streaked down her face as she reached for him.
"I'm sorry," he choked out, his hands finding hers. "I don't know how to fix this. I don't know if I can fix me."
She cupped his face in her hands, her voice trembling with the weight of all that was unsaid. "We'll figure it out. Together."
Eli's eyes searched hers, and for the first time in weeks, there was a flicker of hope—fragile, but there.
But just as he leaned in to kiss her, something outside caught her attention. A flash of lightning. A shadow.
And for a heartbeat, she swore she saw someone standing just outside the window.
A figure.
Watching.
Her pulse quickened.
She pulled away from Eli, her heart pounding in her chest. "Did you see that?" she asked, voice trembling.
Eli's brows furrowed, and he followed her gaze to the window. "See what?"
"I… I thought I saw someone outside," Ava whispered, her voice barely a breath.
Eli stepped toward the window, peering out into the rain. The darkness outside was impenetrable, the storm blocking everything from view.
"You're imagining things," he said softly, turning back to her. But his words lacked conviction. He had seen the way her eyes darted toward the shadows, the way her pulse had quickened.
Ava's chest tightened. She couldn't shake the feeling that they weren't alone. The shadows felt too thick, the silence too oppressive.
"I'm not imagining it," she said, her voice firm now, despite the doubt gnawing at her. "Someone was there. I swear it."
Eli's expression hardened, his hand still gripping the window frame. He hesitated before pulling away. "We should check."
But as they both turned toward the door, another sound broke through the storm—distant at first, but growing louder.
A soft tapping. On the door.
Ava froze.
Eli's jaw clenched, and he slowly moved toward the door, every step heavy with tension. Ava's heart was in her throat, and she couldn't move, her feet glued to the spot.
The tapping grew louder, more insistent. Whoever was outside wasn't leaving.
Eli's hand trembled as he reached for the door handle. He exchanged one last glance with Ava, who nodded silently, her eyes wide with fear.
When he opened the door, no one was there.
Just the storm. The rain. The darkness.
Ava's breath hitched as she stepped into the doorway, eyes scanning the empty, rain-soaked yard. There was no sign of a person, no trace of anyone being there at all. But the feeling of being watched… it hadn't gone away.
Eli closed the door slowly behind her. "We're not alone," she whispered, the words escaping her lips in a breathless rush.
Eli turned to her, his expression unreadable. "What do you mean?"
"I don't know," she whispered. "But I know what I felt."
Eli's gaze flicked to the window, his jaw tightening. He didn't say anything, but Ava saw the conflict in his eyes.
They weren't alone.
And neither of them knew what to do about it.