“Act Like You Love Me, Please.”—The Poor Girl Begged the CEO Millionaire in Front of Her Ex…
Chapter 1: The Broken Glass
The screaming began even before Ava Mitchell had crossed the threshold of the front door. It was a sound she had learned to dread: the dull, rhythmic thud of a heavy fist hitting a cheap plasterboard partition, followed by her mother’s frantic, panting pleas.
Ava stood on the front steps of their dilapidated bungalow in Cicero, her keys trembling in her hand. This was her reality. This wasn’t the “American dream,” but the American nightmare, served cold and accompanied by a mounting medical debt.
“I told you, Leo! I don’t have it!” yelled his mother, Sarah.
Ava flung open the door. The living room was in disarray. Her older brother, Leo, was standing over their mother, his face a sickly purple. A shattered lamp lay between them, the shards of porcelain glinting like sharp teeth in the flickering ceiling light.
“You have the insurance money, Mom! Don’t lie to me!” roared Leo.
“This money is for her chemotherapy, you bastard!” Ava yelled, dropping her bag and stepping between them. “If you touch her again, I swear, I’m calling the police. I don’t care if you’re my brother.”
Leo sneered, a strong smell of cheap whiskey emanating from him. “Look at this little princess. She still thinks she’s going to marry her rich doctor and save us all? Wake up, Ava. Derek isn’t coming for you. He hasn’t called in a week.”
Ava’s heart raced. It was a devastating blow, especially because it was true. Derek, the man she had been engaged to for two years, the one who was supposed to offer her a way out of this suffocating misery, had gone silent.
“Get out,” Ava whispered in a low, threatening voice. “Get out before I kill you myself.”
Leo let out a hollow, raspy laugh, then grabbed her jacket and shoved her. “Three months of rent arrears, sis. If you don’t find a way to pay, we’ll all be out on the street. Maybe you could ask your ‘fiancé’ for a loan. Oh, wait… he’s probably figured out you’re a total wreck by now.”
The door slammed shut, shaking the house to its foundations. Sarah collapsed onto the worn sofa, sobbing into her hands. Ava knelt beside her, ignoring the pain of a small shard of glass piercing her palm.
“It’s okay, Mom. I’ll take care of it. I’ll fix it,” Ava lied.
But as she reached for a tissue in her pocket, her fingers brushed against something plastic. She pulled it out. It was a Ziploc bag. Inside was her engagement ring, a modest diamond that had symbolized hope.
The package had been delivered to her workplace that morning by a courier. No face-to-face meeting. No phone call. Just a Ziploc bag and a sticky note that read: “You’re simply not the kind of girl a man builds a future with. My parents are right. We come from different worlds. Please don’t contact me again.”
The shock had been so violent that she hadn’t even cried yet. She had simply slipped the object into her pocket and continued working, her mind numb to survive her shift. But now, seeing her mother’s fragile, trembling body and the hole Leo had made in the wall, the weight of the situation was beginning to crush her.
She was twenty-four years old. She was a delivery driver for a prestigious law firm. Her mother was dying, her brother was a predator, and her bank account was empty. And the man she thought she loved had returned his promise of a future to her in a sandwich bag.
His phone vibrated in his pocket. It was his boss, Mr. Henderson.
“Mitchell? I need you to bring a contract to Lumière, the rooftop restaurant. It’s for the Miller acquisition. The client is dining there right now. If it’s not signed tonight, we lose the contract. You get a fifty-dollar bonus if you get there in twenty minutes.”
Fifty dollars. That was the equivalent of a week’s worth of groceries.
Ava wiped her eyes, stood up, and kissed her mother’s forehead. “I have to go to work, Mom. Lock the door. I’ll be home late.”
She didn’t change her clothes. She didn’t have time. She was wearing a navy blue dress she’d bought at a thrift store for six dollars, her hair was pulled back in a messy bun, and she had red circles under her eyes. She looked exactly as she was: a young girl on the verge of a nervous breakdown.
She was unaware that in less than an hour, her life would intersect with that of a man who lived in the clouds under which she was drowning.
Chapter 2: The Roof
The elevator ride up to Lumière felt like ascending to another planet. The air inside the glass capsule was scented with precious sandalwood and the promise of success. When the doors opened, the humidity of a Chicago summer gave way to a perfectly air-conditioned breeze on the rooftop.
Ava stepped out, clutching the thick kraft paper envelope to her chest like a shield. She immediately felt the head waiter’s gaze. He noticed her worn ballet flats and the slight crease in her dress, his expression shifting to feigned disdain.
“Delivery?” he asked, articulating the word in a halting voice, as if it were a contagion.
“Yes. For the Millers’ party,” Ava said, trying to keep her chin up.
“Wait near the entrance. I’ll see if they’re ready to—”
But Ava wasn’t listening. Her gaze had drifted beyond the stage, over the sea of white linen tablecloths and glittering candles, to a table near the glass balustrade.
His heart didn’t just stop; it disintegrated.
There was Derek.
He looked magnificent. He was wearing a suit that cost more than his car, and his hair was perfectly styled. And he wasn’t alone. He was sitting opposite a woman who looked like she belonged in a fashion magazine: blonde, elegant, and wearing a diamond necklace that caught the moonlight.
Derek was laughing. It was that loud, exuberant laugh that Ava used to find charming. Now it sounded like a jagged blade.
Then he saw her.
His laughter faded. His gaze swept over her, noticing her cheap dress, the envelope she held in her hand, the banality of her presence in this temple of opulence. He didn’t look guilty. He didn’t look sad. He looked embarrassed—not for himself, but for her .
He leaned over and whispered something to his companion. The woman turned around, looked at Ava and let out a soft, crystalline laugh, covering her mouth with a manicured hand.
Ava felt the world crumble. Shame weighed her down like a burden, dragging her to the ground. She wanted to run, but her legs felt like lead. She had become the “poor girl” again. The object of charity. Cicero’s daughter who didn’t belong.
“It looks like you’re about to faint or commit a crime.”
The voice was deep, resonant, and much too close.
Ava jumped and jerked her head so sharply that she felt a crack on the back of her neck. Beside her stood a man who seemed to emanate a force of a completely different nature than Derek’s. Where Derek was loud and flamboyant, this man was silent and impassive.
He was tall – easily six foot three – with shoulders that clung to an anthracite suit with mathematical precision. His jaw was so angular it could have drawn blood, and his dark, penetrating brown eyes seemed to read through the envelope he held and probe the chaos of his soul.
Nathan Cole.
She recognized him. In Chicago, everyone knew Nathan Cole. He was the “ice king” of the Midwest, a self-made billionaire who had devoured tech companies and real estate markets like a shark in a tuxedo.
“I… I’m fine,” Ava stammered, her voice breaking.
Nathan didn’t seem convinced. He took a sip of champagne, his gaze falling on Derek, who continued to smile at him. Nathan narrowed his eyes slightly. He was a man who had spent his life analyzing people, and he understood the situation in an instant.
“You’ve been at the entrance for four minutes,” Nathan said calmly. “The head waiter is starting to worry. He thinks you’re a protester.”
Ava looked at Derek again. He was now leaning back, raising his glass of wine as if to toasting his humiliation. He had won. He had thrown her away like trash in a Ziploc bag, and now he was watching her rot in the sun.
Despair is a powerful drug. It supplants logic. It supplants pride.
Ava turned to Nathan Cole. Her eyes were filled with tears she’d been holding back. “Please,” she whispered. “Pretend you know me.”
Nathan raised an eyebrow. “Excuse me?”
“I know this is crazy,” she said, the words pouring out in a frantic stream. “I know you don’t know me, and that I’m just a delivery girl, but my ex is over there. He just dumped me in the most horrible way, and he’s sitting there laughing at me with his new girlfriend. I can’t let him see me like this. I can’t let him win. Please… just five minutes. Pretend you’re mine.”
Nathan stared at her. The silence stretched on, long and unbearable. Ava’s face burned. She felt like an idiot. A desperate and delusional idiot.
“It sounds ridiculous when said out loud,” she murmured, starting to turn away.
“Yes,” Nathan agreed.
Ava felt a sob tighten in her throat. She headed towards the exit, ready to return to Cicero and let herself be swallowed by the darkness.
“But…” Nathan’s voice interrupted her. She turned around. He was handing her one of his two glasses of champagne. “I’ve been here for twenty minutes waiting for a business dinner that, obviously, isn’t going to happen. My counterpart is apparently stuck in O’Hare.”
A fleeting smile touched the corner of her lips – a rare and dangerous thing.
“Five minutes, that looks like an improvement.”
Chapter 3: Representation
Ava picked up the glass. Her hand was trembling so violently that the golden liquid danced against the rim.
“Take a deep breath, Ava,” Nathan whispered.
“How do you know my name?” she exclaimed, panting.
“It’s on your ID badge,” he said, nodding his chin towards the clip on his belt. “And you should probably take it off if we want to be together.”
He reached out, his fingers brushing against his waist as he peeled off the plastic badge. The contact sent a jolt of electricity through him. He slipped the badge into his pocket and then firmly placed his hand on the small of his back.
“Walk with me. Don’t look at him. Look at me.”
Ava did as she was told. As they walked towards the bar, she felt the atmosphere change. People were no longer looking at the “delivery girl,” but at the woman on Nathan Cole’s arm.
“Who is it?” she heard a woman whisper at a nearby table.
“I don’t know, but she’s beautiful,” replied the husband.
Ava felt a strange wave of dizziness. She didn’t feel beautiful. She felt like an imposter in a thrift store dress. But Nathan’s hand was firm, a gentle warmth that seemed to anchor her to the ground.
They arrived at the bar. Nathan signaled to the bartender. “A bottle of Krug. And whatever my lady would like to eat.”
“I’m not hungry,” Ava murmured.
“You’re shaking because of the hypoglycemia and the adrenaline,” Nathan said in a deeper, more intimate voice. “You’re going to eat. Or you’ll faint, and I’d rather not take you out of here in front of your ex. It would ruin everything.”
He turned her towards him, leaning one elbow on the marble counter. He was so close she could smell his cologne — a blend of cedar and rain.
“Tell me about him,” said Nathan.
“For what?”
“Because if I play this role, I need to know his motivations. Why did he dump you?”
Ava felt the pain of remembering the Ziploc bag. “He said I wasn’t the kind of girl a man builds a future with. He said we came from different worlds. My family… we have problems. My mother is sick, my brother is… a complete disaster. Derek is a doctor. He wanted a trophy, not a person with a troubled past.”
Nathan’s expression darkened. He glanced over his shoulder at Derek, who was now staring at them, his mouth slightly open. The smugness had vanished, replaced by an expression of utter confusion.
“He’s a short man,” Nathan said, turning to Ava. “Short men need to put others down to feel tall. It’s a common flaw.”
“And you?” asked Ava, emboldened by the champagne. “Are you a tall man, Mr. Cole?”
Nathan laughed. It was a deep, resonant laugh that seemed to make Ava’s chest vibrate. “I’m a man who doesn’t like to lose. And I certainly don’t like seeing people being bullied in my city.”
“Is this what charity is?”
“No,” said Nathan, his gaze intensifying. “It’s a deal. You give me an excuse to avoid a boring evening of drinking alone, and I’ll protect you. Let’s keep talking. Tell me something true. Not about the doctor.”
Ava blinked. “Real? Like what?”
“For example, why you chose this dress. Or what you do when you’re not working for Henderson & Lloyd.”
“I bought this dress because it was the only thing without a stain in the store,” she admitted, a dry laugh escaping her. “And me… I study the stars. Well, I used to. I wanted to be an astrophysicist. I know the names of all the constellations in the northern hemisphere, but I can’t parallel park.”
Nathan smiled – a real smile this time. “Astrophysics. That’s a far cry from Cicero.”
“It’s far from everything,” she sighed. “And you? What do you do when you’re not the ‘Ice King’?”
“I’m working,” he said. “I haven’t taken a single day off in three years. Frankly, I don’t remember what I did before work took over my life. My life now consists of spreadsheets and acquisitions.”
“That’s sad,” said Ava.
Nathan paused, his glass halfway to his lips. “Most people tell me it’s impressive. They call it ‘perseverance’ or ‘ambition’.”
“Most people are networking,” Ava said, looking him straight in the eye. “Me, I’m just a girl killing time while waiting to move on to something else, in a nice restaurant, to go cry. And from where I am, a life made up only of spreadsheets seems pretty sad.”
Nathan gazed at her for a long moment. The noise from the restaurant seemed to fade away. For a moment, it was no longer a staged scene. There were only two people on a rooftop, each concealed behind a different suit of armor.
“You’re very direct, Ava Mitchell.”
“I don’t have enough money to be subtle,” she replied.
The silence was broken by the sound of approaching footsteps. Ava stiffened. She knew that walk.
Derek had arrived.
Chapter 4: The Confrontation
“Ava ?”
Derek’s voice was a mixture of disbelief and forced nonchalance. He stood a few steps away, his date, Tiffany, clinging to his arm like a decorative vine.
Ava felt that familiar urge to shrink into herself, to apologize for existing, to explain her presence. But Nathan’s hand tightened slightly around her waist. It was a reminder.
She turned slowly, displaying a calm she hadn’t known she possessed. “Hello, Derek.”
Derek’s gaze flickered to Nathan, then back to Ava. He looked like he’d seen a ghost—or a ghost who’d just won the lottery. “I… I didn’t expect to see you here. In Lumière.”
“This is a restaurant open to the public, isn’t it?” said Ava in a calm voice.
“Yes, well… I mean…” Derek stammered. He looked at Nathan. “My name is Derek Vance. I didn’t quite catch your name.”
He held out his hand. Nathan didn’t take it. He didn’t even look at it. He simply stared at Derek’s face with an expression of bored indifference.
“Nathan Cole,” Nathan said simply.
Derek’s hand froze mid-flight. He withdrew it, his face scarlet, the same color as the wine in his glass. “Nathan Cole? The… the CEO of Cole Industries?”
“Same here,” said Nathan. “And you?”
“I… I’m a friend of Ava’s,” Derek said, his voice losing its confidence.
“A friend?” Nathan repeated the word as if it were some curious specimen of bacteria. “Ava didn’t mention Derek. She was too busy telling me about the stars.”
He turned to Ava, his gaze softening in a disturbingly realistic way. “My dear, was it really the ‘friend’ who sent you the Ziploc bag?”
The silence that followed was deafening. Tiffany, Derek’s date, let out a sigh. Derek looked as if he wished the roof would open and swallow him whole.
“A Ziploc bag?” Tiffany whispered, looking at Derek with sudden doubt.
“It was a misunderstanding,” Derek hissed.
“That was a statement,” Ava said, finding her voice again. “You told me I wasn’t the kind of girl a man would build a future with, Derek. You told me I came from the wrong world.”
She looked at the shimmering horizon, then at Nathan, and finally at Derek.
“It turns out the world is much bigger than you think.”
Nathan stepped forward, closing the distance between himself and Derek. He was ten centimeters taller and infinitely more impressive.
“She’s always impeccable,” Nathan said, echoing the superficial compliment Derek had paid her earlier, but with a gravity that made Derek flinch. “But more importantly, she’s in the middle of a conversation with me. And I don’t like being interrupted. So, if you’ll excuse us…”
It was not a request.
Derek opened his mouth, closed it again, then turned around. He practically dragged Tiffany toward their table. Ava watched them leave, her breath coming in short, ragged gasps.
The adrenaline began to subside, leaving her feeling empty. She looked at her glass of champagne and placed it on the counter.
“The five minutes are up,” she murmured.
Nathan looked at his watch. “Actually, it’s noon. You owe me seven minutes of interest.”
Ava tried to smile, but her lips were trembling. “Thank you. You shouldn’t have done that. You made it look… and you made me feel…”
“Human?” Nathan suggested.
“Yeah.”
She rummaged in her bag and pulled out the envelope. “I have to deliver this. My boss is waiting for me.”
“I’ll walk you to the elevator,” said Nathan.
As she walked through the restaurant, Ava felt a strange sense of peace. The humiliation was still there, lurking in the shadows, but it was no longer her primary concern. She had held firm.
In the elevator, she turned to him. “I don’t know why you did that. A man like you… you don’t do things without a reason.”
Nathan leaned against the glass wall of the elevator lobby. “Some things don’t need a reason, Ava. Sometimes you just want to see the right person win, for once.”
He paused, his gaze lingering on her face. “Get home safe. And next time you have to drop off a contract somewhere, maybe you could call ahead. I might be available for a proper dinner.”
Ava laughed, a genuine and surprised laugh. “I’ll keep that in mind, Mr. Cole.”
“Nathan,” he corrected.
The elevator doors opened. Ava stepped inside. As the doors began to close, she saw him standing there: the billionaire who had played a part in the tragedy of a poor girl.
She stepped out into the Chicago night, the crisp, clean autumn wind blowing. For the first time in months, she no longer felt like a victim. She felt like a woman who had finally been seen.
Chapter 5: The Consequences
The following three weeks were a blur where reality gradually took over.
Her mother’s condition worsened, then stabilized. Leo disappeared for ten days, then returned with a black eye and a story about “bad luck” at the racetrack. Ava worked full-time, delivering documents to law firms and corporate headquarters, always half-expecting to bump into Nathan Cole around the corner.
But she didn’t.
She kept telling herself that the whole rooftop thing was just a bad dream. A billionaire certainly wouldn’t want to spend time with a girl who lived in Cicero and dressed in thrift store clothes. He was bored, he’d been nice, and that was all.
Until Thursday morning.
Ava sat at her cramped desk at Henderson & Lloyd, sipping lukewarm coffee. She opened her work email to check the day’s delivery schedule.
A new message has appeared.
From: N. Cole Subject: (No subject)
The rooftop restaurant offers a better view on Thursday evenings. NC.
Ava read the text. Then she read it again. Her heart began to pound. She looked at the clock. It was 9 o’clock.
She spent the entire day as if in a dream. She hesitated to go. She hesitated because she didn’t have a new dress. She hesitated because of the possibility that he was simply being polite.
But then she remembered the way he had looked at her when she had told him about the stars.
She typed two words in reply.
I know.
Chapter 6: Deployment (Expansion)
Ava arrived in Lumière at 7 p.m. This time, she didn’t have a delivery envelope. She was wearing the same blue dress, but she had pinned a small vintage star-shaped brooch to her collar, which she had found in her mother’s old jewelry box.
The head waiter recognized her immediately. He straightened up and his disdain gave way to an expression of panicked obsequiousness.
“Miss Mitchell! This way. Mr. Cole is waiting for you.”
He led her to the same table near the railing. Nathan was already there. He wasn’t looking at his phone or a file. He was gazing at the horizon, where the sun was setting, tinting the clouds purple and gold.
He stood up when she approached. “You came.”
“I have a weakness for beautiful views,” she said, settling into the armchair.
They didn’t talk about Derek. They didn’t talk about contracts. They talked about the Hubble telescope, the physics of black holes, and the reasons why Nathan had decided to start his first business in a basement in Detroit.
“I wanted to build something inalienable,” Nathan said in a low voice. “My father was a steelworker. When the factory closed, he lost everything. Not just his job, but also his identity. I decided I would never let my identity depend on someone else’s goodwill.”
“But you’re attached to your work,” Ava pointed out. “If spreadsheets disappeared, who would you be?”
Nathan looked at her, his dark eyes reflecting the flickering candlelight. “I’m beginning to think I’d be the man who takes a young lady from Cicero to gaze at the stars.”
The night didn’t end with a movie-worthy kiss. It ended with Nathan driving her home in a black sedan that looked like a stealth bomber. Arriving at her dilapidated house in Cicero, Ava felt a pang of shame.
“It’s not much,” she said, her hand on the door handle.
“This is a home, Ava,” said Nathan. “I’ve lived in penthouses that looked like morgues. This one, despite its peeling paint, has more life than most apartments on the Gold Coast.”
He walked her to the door. “I want to see you again. And not just on the rooftops.”
Chapter 7: The Storm
The relationship between the billionaire and the delivery woman did not remain secret for long.
Six months later, the tabloids were talking about it endlessly. “Cole’s Cinderella: Who is Cicero’s mysterious young girl?”
It wasn’t all a fairy tale. Consumed by a toxic mix of jealousy and a ruined reputation, Derek tried to sell stories to the press. He claimed that Ava was a gold digger, that her family was a gang of criminals.
One evening, Ava returned home and found her brother, Leo, waiting for her with a man she didn’t recognize — a man with a hard face and carrying a pistol concealed in his belt.
“Leo, what is it?” exclaimed Ava, panting.
“I’m in debt, Ava,” Leo said, his voice trembling. “And they know you’re dating the richest man in town. They just want a small… bridging loan.”
“Get out,” said Ava, her blood running cold.
The armed man stepped forward. “We’re not looking for trouble, my dear. We just want our piece of the pie. Give us Mr. Cole’s number. We’ll take care of everything.”
Before Ava could react, the front door was smashed in.
It wasn’t the police. It was Nathan’s security team, followed by Nathan himself. He had changed his appearance since the rooftop. He seemed frozen to the bone. He looked like the Ice King.
The confrontation was swift. The gunman was disarmed and tackled to the ground within seconds. Leo was thrown against the wall.
Nathan approached Ava to check if she was injured. Seeing that she was unharmed, he turned to Leo.
“I spent the last month quietly buying up all your debts, Leo,” Nathan said icy-cold. “I own your gambling chips. I own this house. I own your future.”
Leo turned pale. “You can’t do that.”
“It’s already done,” Nathan said. “Here’s what’s happening. You’re going to a rehabilitation center in Montana. You’ll stay there for a year. If you leave, or if you contact Ava or your mother again without my permission, I’ll have you prosecuted for all the crimes you’ve committed in the last five years. Is that clear?”
Leo nodded frantically.
Nathan turned to Ava. “Your mother will be transferred to a private clinic tomorrow morning. The best doctors in the country. No more debt. No more fear.”
Ava looked at him, her eyes filled with tears. “Nathan… you can’t just buy my problems.”
“I’m not going to buy them back,” he said, hugging her. “I’m clearing the land so you can finally breathe.”
Chapter 8: Five Years Later
The gala was the event of the season.
The Art Institute’s grand ballroom was filled with Chicago’s elite. At the center of this gathering stood Ava Mitchell-Cole. She wore a midnight blue dress, encrusted with tiny crystals that evoked distant galaxies.
She was no longer a delivery girl. She was the director of the Mitchell Observatory, an institution Nathan had built for her—not as a gift, but as part of a partnership. She had gone back to school, earned her degree, and was now a leading figure in science communication.
As she stood near the bar, a man approached her. He looked older, tired, and a little worn by time.
Derek Vance.
He had lost his job at the hospital following a series of lawsuits for professional misconduct and a tumultuous, highly publicized divorce from Tiffany. He now worked in a suburban clinic, far from the prestige he had so craved.
“Ava,” he said, his voice having lost its usual bite. “You are… magnificent.”
Ava looked at him. She felt neither anger nor resentment. She felt a profound distance.
“Thank you, Derek.”
“I just wanted to… apologize. For everything. For the way I treated you. I was an idiot.”
Ava smiled, and it was a kind smile. “You weren’t stupid, Derek. You were just looking for a version of me that didn’t exist. You wanted a girl with no past. I’m glad you didn’t find her, because I love the woman I’ve become.”
She turned around as Nathan approached. He no longer looked like the Ice King. He resembled a man who had regained his balance. He placed his hand on Ava’s lower back, the same gesture he had made on the roof five years earlier.
“Is everything alright here?” asked Nathan, his gaze settling on Derek.
“Everything is perfect,” said Ava.
Derek nodded, looked down, and blended into the crowd.
Nathan leaned close to Ava’s ear. “I have something for you. It’s in the car.”
“Another constellation?” she joked.
“Better.”
Later that evening, when they got into the sedan, Nathan handed her a small, crumpled package.
Ava opened it.
Inside was a Ziploc bag.
But it wasn’t an engagement ring inside. It was a handful of soil from the site where they were laying the foundation stones for a new community center in Cicero — a project Ava had initiated to help families like hers.
And on the bag, there was a sticky note written in Nathan’s handwriting, in neat, masculine handwriting:
“You’re the only girl a man should want to build a future with.”
Ava rested her head on his shoulder as the car drove through the glittering streets of Chicago. The city was a map of lights, a reflection of the stars she loved so much.
She had begged him to act as if he loved her, once, in a moment of utter despair.
But when he took her hand and squeezed it, she understood that the charade had been over for a long time. This was reality.
And the view from the summit was even more beautiful than she had imagined.
Chapter 9: The Infinite Horizon (Conclusion)
The years continued to pass, marked not by Excel spreadsheets, but by key milestones.
Sarah Mitchell was overjoyed to see her daughter’s first book published: a stargazing guide for children in underprivileged neighborhoods. She passed away peacefully in a sunlit room, surrounded by flowers, reassured knowing her daughter was safe.
Leo stayed in Montana. He never became a saint, but he became a carpenter. Every Christmas, he sent Ava a letter: a simple and sincere account of a life lived far from the shadow of the railroad tracks.
And what about Nathan and Ava?
They continued to be the talk of Chicago, not for their wealth, but for their eccentricity. People whispered about the billionaire who closed his office early every Thursday to go stargazing in a park in Cicero. They spoke of the woman who had turned a fabricated love into an inheritance.
For their tenth anniversary, they returned to Lumière.
The restaurant had changed owners, but the view remained the same. They sat down at the same table, near the balustrade.
“You know,” said Nathan, swirling his champagne, “the head waiter that night really thought you were going to commit a crime.”
Ava laughed, her eyes sparkling with memories. “I committed a crime, Nathan. I stole a billionaire’s heart under false pretenses.”
“You weren’t pretending, Ava,” Nathan said gravely. “I recognized you as soon as I saw you. I didn’t help you out of boredom, but because I recognized you.”
“He recognized me? How? We’d never met before.”
“I recognized that flame,” he said. “The way you fought to stay standing when the whole world was trying to bring you down. I had spent my whole life looking for that flame in others, and I had only found embers. Then you came along.”
He reached across the table, his fingers intertwining with hers.
“Please pretend you love me,” he whispered softly.
Ava smiled, a tear rolling down her cheek. “I don’t need to act anymore, Nathan.”
“I know,” he said.
And as the lights of Chicago shone below, a perfect reflection of the infinite stars that twinkled above them, Ava Mitchell-Cole realized that the girl Derek had brought back to her in a Ziploc bag had not just been forgotten.
She was born again.
Cicero’s poor daughter and the Ice King of Chicago had built a world that mocked “different worlds.” They had built a world where the only thing that mattered was the light they shared.
And that light would never go out.
