Tears welled up in my eyes, blurring the lines of the luxurious apartment. Just a few months ago, this space had seemed like a dream, a world away from the cramped confines of my old life and when I'd agreed to become Ava Lincoln, it had suddenly become a reality.
Every surface, every detail, whispered of Ava Lincoln, a woman I never was and could never truly be. The thought of Alexander, his desperate plea for her, for "us," sent a fresh wave of guilt crashing over me.
Last night, I'd reached out to Nicola. My voice had been shaky, choked with a mixture of shame and a strange sense of liberation. I poured out the story of Alexander's declaration, his willingness to sacrifice everything for love even though I'd broken up with him as we'd agreed.
Nicola hadn't been surprised by his decision. "It was inevitable," she'd said coolly. "He's a man in love, and unfortunately, the object of his affection carries your face for the moment."