Scenario:Ava an inspiring author destined to make it big in the publishing world. She’s never had the best luck when it comes to love due to her dad walking out on her and her mom when she was six. Until she meets Ryan Miller he is every girls dream but he only has eyes for Ava but what Ava doesn’t realize is that Ryan is dying and only has nine months left to live. Time is precious especially when it’s so short.
Create my version of this story
Ava an inspiring author destined to make it big in the publishing world. She’s never had the best luck when it comes to love due to her dad walking out on her and her mom when she was six. Until she meets Ryan Miller he is every girls dream but he only has eyes for Ava but what Ava doesn’t realize is that Ryan is dying and only has nine months left to live. Time is precious especially when it’s so short.
Ava Langley
She is a determined author with a dream to become a published author. She is resilient, hopeful, and introspective. Ava grew up in a dysfunctional family with an absentee father and a working mother. Despite her parents' lack of stability, she aspires to succeed in the competitive writing world. Her life takes a dramatic turn when she meets Ryan Miller, who captivates her attention and becomes the center of her thoughts.
Ava's Mother
She is Ava's single mother who worked hard to provide for her daughter. She is dedicated, nurturing, and pragmatic. After leaving her dysfunctional marriage early on, she focuses on raising Ava alone and remains a stable influence in her daughter's life. Her sacrifices highlight her selflessness and commitment to Ava's upbringing and education.
Dr. Nathan Riley
He is Ryan's personal physician who helps manage his terminal illness. He is compassionate, straightforward, and discreet. As Ryan's confidant in matters of health and privacy, Dr. Riley provides valuable insights and support to Ryan during his difficult times. His presence ensures that Ryan receives the best possible care and comfort during his final months.
Ava
I’d like to think I’m a little more evolved now.
But if I’m being completely honest — which I always try to be with myself — my desire for a happy ending is still what drives me.
I want to believe that life can be as magical as the stories I create.
So, I keep dreaming.
And writing.
It’s my job, after all.
I’m an author — well, an aspiring published author, at the very least.
My first novel is currently being considered by a half dozen publishers.
Fingers crossed one of them will see its potential and offer me a deal.
That would be amazing, life-changing, actually.
It would prove to me that all my hard work and determination have paid off.
I’ve never been the kind of person who gives up easily, even when things get tough — and they’ve been tough for as long as I can remember.
My dad walked out on Mom and me when I was six.
I never saw him again and don’t know much about him except that he was a terrible father and husband.
Mom worked multiple jobs to provide for me and give me a stable upbringing.
I lean back in my corner booth, nursing my third cup of coffee as I try to tune out the chatter of the lunch crowd.
The bell above the door chimes, and my attention shifts instinctively.
Five men in crisp suits file in, their polished shoes clicking against the tile floor.
My heart skips a beat when I spot the Master Publishing logo on one of their leather messenger bags.
I recognize the tall one with salt-and-pepper hair — James Henderson, senior acquisitions editor.
I’ve studied his photo enough times on their website.
My manuscript submission is still pending with them.
He looks around, his gaze locking with mine, and nods with a knowing smile.
I gather my laptop and papers, my hands trembling slightly as I stuff them into my bag.
His smile replays in my mind like a movie trailer as I weave between tables toward his group.
The lunch crowd streams in, blocking my path as suited executives crowd the counter.
I squeeze past a woman with a stroller, nearly stumbling into a barista carrying a tray of drinks.
By the time I reach the spot where James’s group stood, they’ve vanished.
My gaze falls on a bright pink poster taped to the window — "Annual Cancer Research Fundraiser - Making Every Moment Count."
Defeated, I return to my corner booth and slump into the worn leather seat.
The coffee shop bustles around me as I pull out my laptop, determined to distract myself with writing.
My fingers hover over the keyboard, but my mind keeps drifting back to the missed opportunity.
A movement near the counter catches my attention.
A tall man in a navy suit studies the menu board intently.
He turns, and our eyes meet unexpectedly.
Unlike the polished publishing executives from earlier, there’s something different about him.
His presence feels more genuine, less rehearsed.
He notices my laptop and writing materials spread across the table.
He approaches with a curious smile, and I sense that this encounter might just be the beginning of a new chapter.
