Three days after the twins' sixth birthday, Ava and Damon were married on the foundation platform of the Ellsworth Center along the northern waterfront. Lily, overcoming her illness, walked the red carpet alone. Damon never finished his speech. At the wedding banquet, he pulled out a set of divorce papers he had kept for five years — never once signed.
The year he returned from Zurich, he had written out the words but refused to put his name to them. Countless times, when he wanted to give up searching for Ava, he would take out the document and read it. Ava took up the pen and wrote the same answer beside it.
In the hush of late night, Ava finally made peace with the girl she had been back then — the girl who had struggled to survive, insecure and oversensitive. She realized that the girl who had gritted her teeth and held fast through every hardship had never been a burden. Damon opened his heart to her: he had fallen in love with Ava years ago, at that luncheon, the moment she dared to contradict him.
After long years of separation and storm, Ava was no longer the weak woman who had been tossed about by others and lived on their charity. She had buildings she herself had designed, a pair of children, and a love that never wavered. She was Damon's one and only choice — without hesitation, without regret.
