After This Life, We’ll Never Meet Again

Avery's POV

Eventually, the pain got to be too much. I couldn’t fake my way through it anymore.

I doubled over on the side of the road, crouched down low with both arms wrapped around my stomach like that would help. My face was a mess with sweat, tears, and maybe both. I couldn’t even tell anymore.

Ten minutes passed before the waves of pain subsided enough for me to breathe, much less, stand.

This had to be one of the side effects Professor Aldridge warned me about.

I glanced around. We were out in the middle of nowhere. There was no real service, no cabs, no one around—just trees, the road, and the faint taste of blood in my mouth.

Still, I knew how this would go.

If I missed Tiffany’s birthday party, Kevin would pin it on me.

Another strike. Another grudge. Another reason to hate me just a little bit more.

Then I heard a familiar voice and turned toward the phone's screen.

The livestream had started.

Tiffany’s birthday bash was playing in real time.

Samuel, the driver, noticed me staring and chuckled to himself.

“Kids these days,” he muttered. “Romance is like a sport now. Fireworks, drones, diamonds. It's got to be exhausting trying to outdo each other.”

I didn’t say anything.

I glanced up at the driver’s phone resting on the dashboard. The video showed Kevin fastening a necklace around Tiffany’s neck, but it wasn't just any necklace.

I recognized it instantly.

Gregory and Eleanor asked Kevin to take a picture of it back when it was still on display, thinking it’d be the perfect wedding gift—for me, for us.

Kevin did take the photo. But instead of giving the necklace to me, he told them straight to their faces:

“The Blue Heart stands for true love. Giving it to Avery would only tarnish it. You can’t force love when it's not really real.”

That’s what he said, just like that.

The next day, Tiffany showed up wearing it like it had always been hers.

Gregory went ballistic.

He stormed out with the old family whip like he was ready to bring Kevin down a notch.

But Kevin didn’t back down. He let himself get hit and didn’t even flinch. He’d rather take the pain than admit he was wrong. That day, he gave Tiffany the necklace without hesitation.

And from the way he looked at her now, I think he was proud of it.

I stared at the screen, watching her standing beside him, shy and smiling, like she belonged there. My chest twisted up tight.

The cruelest kind of heartbreak is knowing that the person you love was never yours to begin with. And yet, you throw yourself into loving them, like maybe that will change something.

Kevin’s fingers trembled slightly as he strummed his guitar, but his eyes never wavered. He played for her like she was the only person in the world—gentle, steady, completely devoted.

Still, I could see the pain behind those eyes.

And deep down, I knew exactly why.

It was because of me.

Years ago, during a winter hike, I slipped and fell. Kevin had caught me before my head hit the rocks, but in doing it, a jagged branch jammed through the center of his palm. Ten centimeters deep. And ever since then, even the slightest bit of pressure could send shooting pain through his whole arm.

When the song ended, he brushed sweat from his brow and shifted just enough for the scar to show.

Someone standing nearby noticed. “Hey Kevin, what happened to your hand? That looks nasty.”

Another guest joked, “C’mon, you know Kevin. Probably got it saving someone like the knight in shining armor he is.”

Kevin barely looked up. “Oh, I forgot,” he said.

Just a quick, flat reply—detached and distant.

He forgot.

And that broke me.

“Kevin’s so good to Tiffany,” someone gushed. “He even rented out Harborview Bay for her. If that’s not real love, what is?”

Of course. Harborview Bay. I should’ve known.

The place was legendary for anniversary dinners, proposals, and those over-the-top love stories people post about online. There’s even some cheesy myth that if your relationship is ‘witnessed’ there, it’ll last forever.

I used to constantly hint at it to Kevin, sometimes subtly, sometimes not so subtly.

He’d just roll his eyes and say, “God, you’re so naive. If love worked like that, people wouldn’t end up miserable half the time.”

And then came the one that stuck, “And besides, what love? Between us? Avery, you need to stop mixing up fantasy with reality.”

I’d never forgotten those words. They haunted me.

Maybe if I’d let go sooner, Kevin wouldn’t have died carrying so much regret. Perhaps I wouldn’t have wasted so much time begging fate to fix something it never gave me in the first place.

“That’s right,” I heard another voice say. “Avery Summers needs to take a hint. Kevin and Tiffany are perfect together. He’s got the charm, she’s got the looks. Honestly, it just makes sense. If she tries to come between them again, karma's coming for her.”

I ducked my head and laughed under my breath, bitter and quiet.

Karma. Sure.

I’d probably earned every ounce of it.

Samuel heard me sniffling quietly and glanced back in the rearview mirror, his voice gentle. “You okay back there, miss?”

I wiped my face, forcing a small smile.

“Yeah,” I said. “Just one of those cries that helps more than it hurts.”

Because that’s what it was.

I was crying because Kevin got everything he wanted. Because I’d done what I came here to do.

Because even if he never once loved me, I still appreciated the kindness he had shown me.

...

When I finally got back to the Johnson's estate, Eleanor was already standing at the door, waiting like she’d been tracking my arrival by the minute. She remained as sharp as ever and consistently exuded a no-nonsense demeanor.

“Avery,” she called out, cutting straight to it. “Did you finish the carving? That’s not something to be sloppy about. And where’s Kevin? Why didn’t he come back with you?”