The Life I Chose
Ariana POV
The Life I Chose
I stared at my reflection in the mirror.
Navy blazer.
White blouse.
Black trousers.
Simple.
Professional.
Perfect.
A smile tugged at my lips.
Today wasn’t a life-changing day.
It wasn’t some grand adventure.
It wasn’t a dream coming true.
It was just a job interview.
And somehow, that felt amazing.
For the first time in years, I wanted something ordinary.
No pressure.
No expectations.
No complicated goals.
Just a normal job.
A normal life.
A normal future.
My phone buzzed on the kitchen counter.
JOHN.
I answered immediately.
“Good morning.”
“Tell me you’re already awake.”
I rolled my eyes.
“I’ve been awake for an hour.”
“Good.”
“You sound nervous.”
“I am nervous.”
I laughed.
“Why are you nervous? I’m the one getting interviewed.”
“Because if you somehow mess this up, it’ll make me look bad.”
“Ah, there it is.”
“I have a reputation to maintain.”
“A reputation for being dramatic?”
“A reputation for recommending competent people.”
I grabbed my coffee mug and walked toward the window.
“You’ve been trying to convince me to apply for two months.”
“Because it’s a great company.”
“You’ve mentioned that once or twice.”
“More like fifty times.”
I smiled.
That sounded about right.
“John.”
“Hmm?”
“Thank you.”
The line went quiet.
“For what?”
“For thinking of me.”
His voice softened.
“Always.”
NOVARIS.CO.
The building looked even bigger than the photographs.
Glass.
Steel.
Technology.
Money.
Lots of money.
I stood outside for a moment.
“Well.”
I adjusted my bag.
“Let’s do this.”
Inside, the lobby looked like something from a science-fiction movie.
Interactive displays covered the walls. Employees moved with purpose. Digital screens showcased company achievements.
I suddenly felt underdressed.
And maybe slightly underqualified.
A woman approached me with a warm smile.
“Ms. Parker?”
“That’s me.”
“I’m Rachel Morgan.”
She offered her hand.
“Nice to meet you.”
“You too.”
As we walked toward the elevators, I noticed several employees greeting her.
Clearly important.
“You’ve worked here long?” I asked.
“Five years.”
“Wow.”
The elevator doors opened.
“I’m currently part of the executive operations team,” Rachel said. “So don’t worry, I know exactly how terrifying first days can feel.”
“That obvious?”
“A little.”
Great.
The interview room was surprisingly comfortable.
No intimidating atmosphere.
No impossible questions.
Just a conversation.
Which somehow made it worse.
One interviewer smiled.
“So, Ariana.”
I nodded.
“Why Novaris?”
I answered honestly.
“John wouldn’t stop talking about it.”
The room erupted into laughter.
“Fair answer.”
“I thought so.”
Rachel leaned forward.
“What are you hoping to find here?”
The question caught me off guard.
I thought about it.
Really thought about it.
Then answered honestly.
“Stability.”
The room became quiet.
“Stability?”
I nodded.
“Somewhere I can build a life.”
Something flickered across Rachel’s expression.
Understanding.
The interview continued.
Questions.
Answers.
Laughter.
By the time it ended, I felt surprisingly relaxed.
Maybe too relaxed.
Three days later, I got the job.
Not as some executive assistant.
Not in a glamorous position.
Just a regular Operations Coordinator role.
Exactly what I wanted.
A normal job.
A normal routine.
A normal life.
“ARIANA!”
I turned around and immediately laughed.
“John.”
The idiot practically sprinted toward me.
“You actually got in.”
“Apparently.”
“I told you.”
“You’ve told me many things.”
“And I was right.”
“Unfortunately.”
He grinned.
“Welcome to Novaris.”
Two weeks later, I was beginning to understand why John loved Novaris so much.
The people were smart.
The environment was welcoming.
And surprisingly, nobody cared who you were.
Only what you could do.
“Good morning.”
A coffee cup appeared in front of me.
I looked up.
Elena Carter smiled.
“You’re welcome.”
I accepted it immediately.
“You’re my favorite coworker.”
“I know.”
Across the office, Damian Hayes nearly choked on his coffee.
“Coffee shouldn’t buy friendship.”
“It absolutely should.”
“Traitor.”
“Correct.”
Elena high-fived me.
I was beginning to suspect they shared a single brain cell.
And neither of them used it responsibly.
“House party tonight.”
Elena pointed at me.
“You’re coming.”
“No.”
“Wrong answer.”
“I’m not coming.”
“You are.”
“No.”
Damian joined us.
“She’s definitely coming.”
I sighed.
“I’ve known both of you for two weeks.”
“And?” Damian asked.
“And you’re already exhausting.”
“Which means we’re friends.”
Unfortunately, he had a point.
That evening, Elena’s apartment was filled with music, laughter, and terrible dance moves.
People talked.
People laughed.
Someone was losing an argument about movies.
John was somehow involved.
Naturally.
I sat on the couch and smiled.
This was nice.
Simple.
Comfortable.
Normal.
Exactly what I had been looking for.
For the first time in years, life felt peaceful.
And I intended to keep it that way.
