The Callia Ballroom was quiet now, the soft rustle of the cleanup crew the only sound echoing through its once lively halls. The twinkling chandeliers had dimd, and the last of the guests had long since departed. Ava stood at the edge of the room, her clipboard forgotten on a nearby table. Her eyes traced the remnants of the night, the empty champagne glasses, the slightly crumpled napkins, the faint scuff marks on the polished floor where couples had danced.
She should have felt triumphant. By all accounts, the gala had been a success. Matches were made, smiles exchanged, and even Madam Elise had left with an uncharacteristically pleased expression. But Ava’s thoughts were elsewhere, tangled up in the quiet hum of emotions she didn’t fully understand.
"Lost in thought, Matchmaker?" Ryan’s voice broke through her reverie, warm and familiar.
Ava turned to see him leaning against the doorway, his tie loosened and his jacket draped over one arm. He looked as tired as she felt, but his grin was still firmly in place.
"Shouldn’t you be halfway ho by now?" she asked, though her tone lacked its usual bite.
Ryan shrugged, stepping closer. "Thought I’d check on you first. Big night and all."
"I’m fine," Ava said quickly, but the words felt hollow even as she said them.
Ryan tilted his head, studying her with that infuriatingly perceptive gaze. "You don’t look fine."
Ava crossed her arms, her defenses rising instinctively. "Why do you care?"
"Because I do," Ryan said simply, his voice quiet but steady.
The sincerity in his tone caught her off guard, and for a mont, she didn’t know how to respond. She glanced down at her shoes, the faint scuff on the toe suddenly fascinating.
"It’s just... a lot," she admitted finally, her voice barely above a whisper. "The matches, the planning, trying to make it all perfect. And then there’s i, always expecting more."
Ryan stepped closer, his expression softening. "She doesn’t expect perfection, Ava. She expects you to try."
"I am trying," Ava said, her frustration bubbling to the surface. "But it’s never enough. I’m never enough."
The words hung in the air, heavy and raw. Ava hadn’t ant to say them out loud, and the admission made her chest tighten. She felt exposed, vulnerable in a way she hadn’t been in years.
Ryan didn’t say anything at first, letting the silence settle between them. When he finally spoke, his voice was low, almost hesitant. "You are enough, Ava. More than enough."
Ava blinked, her breath catching. She looked up at him, searching his face for any sign of mockery, but there was none. Just sincerity.
"Ryan..." she began, but he held up a hand.
"Let finish," he said, stepping even closer. "You’re so busy trying to prove yourself that you don’t see what everyone else does. You care, Ava. You fight for people. That’s what makes you great at this."
Ava felt her throat tighten, her usual defenses crumbling under the weight of his words. She wanted to argue, to brush it off with a sarcastic comnt, but she couldn’t. Because deep down, she knew he was right.
"Why are you saying this?" she asked, her voice barely audible.
Ryan smiled, small and genuine. "Because soone needs to."
The silence that followed was heavy, charged with unspoken emotions. Ava’s heart raced, her thoughts a chaotic swirl. She wanted to say sothing, anything, but the words wouldn’t co.
Instead, she did the one thing she hadn’t let herself do in years: she let her guard down.
"Thank you," she said softly, the words fragile but sincere.
Ryan’s smile widened, and he nodded. "Anyti."
---
The next morning, Ava woke to sunlight streaming through her window, the events of the night before still lingering in her mind. She lay in bed for a mont, staring at the ceiling, trying to piece together what she was feeling.
Ryan’s words played over and over in her head, his voice steady and warm. You are enough.
She wasn’t used to hearing that. Not from i, not from her clients, and certainly not from herself. But for the first ti, she felt like it might be true.
With a deep breath, Ava rolled out of bed and grabbed her phone. Her notifications were filled with ssages from clients, friends, and even a congratulatory text from Madam Elise. But it was the text from Ryan that made her pause.
Ryan: Breakfast? I hear i makes killer dumplings.
Ava smiled despite herself. She typed a quick reply before she could overthink it.
Ava: et there at 9.
Setting her phone down, Ava glanced at the mirror. She still had a long way to go, but for the first ti in years, she felt like she wasn’t running alone.
---
The kitchen was filled with the comforting aroma of i’s cooking when Ava arrived. Her grandmother greeted her with a knowing smile, her hands deftly folding dumpling wrappers at the counter.
"Morning, dear," i said, not looking up. "How was the gala?"
"Good," Ava said, grabbing a cup of tea. "Really good."
"And Ryan?" i asked, her tone light but loaded with aning.
Ava hesitated, her cheeks warming. "He was... helpful."
i chuckled, her eyes twinkling. "That’s one word for it."
Before Ava could respond, the door opened, and Ryan strolled in, looking far too comfortable for soone who didn’t technically live there.
"Slls amazing," he said, flashing i a grin before turning to Ava. "Morning, Matchmaker."
Ava rolled her eyes but couldn’t hide her smile. "Morning, Ryan."
As they sat down to eat, Ava felt a strange sense of calm settle over her. It wasn’t perfect, and it definitely wasn’t easy, but for the first ti, she felt like she was exactly where she was ant to be.
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