It was Saturday evening.

Ava stood in front of the mirror, brushing the side of her dress down gently. She wore a black gown Damien had never seen before, one with a soft cow neck and thin straps that clung to her shoulders. The slit on the side showed just enough skin to make her hesitate, but when she looked at herself again, she didn’t back down. She looked beautiful. Grown. Present.

Damien had told her earlier that they were going out.

Just the two of them.

“Nothing too crazy,” he said over breakfast, giving her that familiar smile—the kind that was quiet but full of meaning. “Just wear something...