Chapter Twenty-Two Adriana
And just like that, he was gone.
The remnants of my breakfast lay scattered across the table, a mute testament to the morning’s earlier chaos. I sat there, ignoring the fucking box, cradling my swollen belly, feeling the twins shift restlessly inside me. The safehouse was silent—a stark difference from the usual hum of activity. Tristan had left in a hurry with Kieran, their urgent whispers still echoing off the walls.
I blinked back tears, but not just because of their abrupt departure. My body ached, each movement an effort as I pushed myself up from the chair. The thick air of the Callahan Domain seemed to press against me, heavy with unspoken threats and lingering cigar smoke. It was all-consuming, this life we’d woven around power and survival, and at that moment, it felt like a gilded cage.
Needing to escape the oppressive silence, I moved slowly, pulling on my coat with more effort than I cared to admit. The door creaked open, and a gust of frigid Boston air slapped my face, almost as if to wake me from the stupor of my own troubled thoughts.
The Fens were quiet under a pristine blanket of snow. Where children usually played and vendors hawked their wares, now only the hushed sounds of winter prevailed. I walked, one hand resting beneath the swell of my belly, the other clutching my coat closed against the biting wind. My breath plumed out before me, white puffs disappearing into the chilled air with every exhaled worry.
As I trod the familiar path, the empty streets mirrored the emptiness I felt. With each step, the sharp cold seared through my layers, a cruel reminder of how alone I truly was. Tristan’s absence loomed large, his reasons for leaving me behind unclear.
I had wanted time to myself…but I hadn’t expected him to be the one to leave.
What once felt like a partnership now seemed like solitary confinement, my heart growing colder with each thought of betrayal.
But I couldn’t let despair take hold. For the sake of my unborn children, for my own sanity, I had to keep moving. So, I walked through the snow-covered Fens, my mind racing as fast as my heart, searching for the warmth of hope in the coldness that surrounded me.
The café materialized like a beacon as I trudged forward, the steam fogging its windows a silent invitation to seek refuge from the cold. Pushing open the door, a bell chimed overhead, and I stepped into the cozy embrace of the shop. The aroma of freshly ground coffee beans hit me, a reminder that life’s simplest pleasures could still offer solace.
“Small coffee, please,” I murmured to the barista, my voice rougher than I intended.
“Coming right up,” she said with a smile.
Soon, my hands wrapped around the cup, absorbing the heat that seeped through the cardboard. It was a small comfort, but comfort nonetheless. I settled into a corner seat, feeling the warmth spread across my palms while my thoughts drifted back to Tristan.
Every now and then, I glanced over my shoulder instinctively. Even here, in this mundane haven, I couldn’t shake the unease. The argument with Tristan had left me raw, exposed, the harsh words echoing in my head like a bitter aftertaste.
Then, the unexpected vibration of my phone shattered the quiet. Heart jolting, I fished the device from my purse, my sister Carmen’s name flashing on the screen. A hesitant smile tugged at my lips—Carmen, the firebrand to my ice, the one who always seemed to call when darkness threatened to overwhelm me. Regardless of whatever else was happening between us, it was as if she could read my mind.
“Hey, Carm,” I answered, trying to steady my voice.
“Adriana?” Her tone was both sharp and tender, cutting through the fog of my worries. “How are you holding up?”
“Been better,” I admitted, staring into the black depths of my coffee as if it held answers. “But your timing is impeccable, as always.”
“Listen, Ade, whatever it is, we’ll sort it out,” she said firmly, her conviction a lifeline thrown across the miles. “Do you want to talk about it?”
“Tristan and I had a fight,” my voice quivered, the tremble betraying the fear that gripped me. “It was...it was bad, Carmen. The kind of argument that leaves cracks in the foundation, you know? As if we ever had one.”
Her silence on the other end spoke volumes, giving me space to gather the shards of my courage.
“I just need a break,” I whispered into the phone, the dam behind my eyes threatening to burst. “I can’t think, can’t breathe. Everything here is just too much.”
“Okay, kid. Come stay with me.” Carmen’s words cut through the static of my panic with clarity and strength. “You can stay as long as you need, okay? No pressure, no expectations. Just...come find some peace.”
The offer hung between us, a lifeline amidst the tempest of my life. Carmen, ever the anchor, understood the chaos that churned within me. In her simple invitation, I found solace—a safe harbor from the storm that raged in Tristan’s Territory, away from the opulence that now felt more like a gilded cage than a home.
She could have thrown this in my face. She had every right. She wasn’t, and I was so grateful.
“Thank you,” I breathed out, a weight lifting from my shoulders at the thought of an escape, even if temporary. It was all I could manage, but it was enough for Carmen to understand.
“Pack a bag, Adriana. I’ll be waiting,” she said, her voice a steady balm to the turmoil inside me.
“Alright,” I said, steeling myself for the brief return to my apartment. “Just give me a couple of hours. Wait, what about the twins?”
“They’re attached,” she said, laughing. “We’ll take care of the little ones too. Don’t worry.”
It didn’t take long. I took a rideshare back to my place, where I was greeted by a skeptical looking doorman because it had been a bit since I had been home. I didn’t need to pack much, so it didn’t take a lot of time. I thought of the wardrobe that Tristan had bought me and my heart clenched in my chest.
I told myself this wasn’t the time for sentimentality.
I took a deep breath and stepped into action, my arms wrapping firmly around the leather handles of my bags. The weight of them was nothing compared to the burden I felt lifting from my shoulders with each step towards the door of my apartment. This place too, which had once my sanctuary, had become a beautifully gilded cage. I couldn’t shake the sense of dread that clung to the walls, the memories that hovered in the corners like unwelcome specters.
I took the elevator down to the first floor after texting my sister I was almost ready.
“Need a hand?” Carmen’s voice cut through the stillness of my retreat, her presence a vibrant force in the muted confines of the lobby.
“Thanks,” I managed, the word a life raft thrown into the turbulent sea of my emotions. She reached out, her fingers brushing against mine as she relieved me of one of the bags. The simple touch grounded me, reminded me that I wasn’t alone in this.
We didn’t speak as we navigated the short distance to the exit. The silence wasn’t awkward but comfortable, filled with an unspoken understanding that only sisters could share. It was the calm before the storm, a moment suspended in time where the chaos of our reality could not reach us.
As the door closed behind us, sealing off the chapter of my life that had unfolded within those walls, something remarkable happened. The tightness in my chest eased, the air seemed fresher, and for the first time in what felt like forever, I could see a sliver of light on the horizon—a light that signified hope.
This wasn’t how I wanted it. This was…I wanted Tristan in my life. But I couldn’t do this right now, and he knew why.
“Ready?” Carmen asked, her eyes meeting mine with an unwavering determination.
“Ready,” I echoed, feeling the power of the word reverberate through me. With that, we stepped out into the late morning, the sun high enough in the sky to promise the warmth of lunchtime soon to come. Boston stretched out before us, both familiar and daunting, but I was no longer afraid.
The hum of the city wrapped around us like a familiar tune as we made our way to Carmen’s car, parked just a stone’s throw from the entrance. The sleek lines of her vehicle seemed out of place among the drab buildings that clawed at the sky, trying to assert their presence.
“Let’s get out of here,” Carmen said, unlocking the car with a beep that cut through the ambient noise of the city.
I nodded, my throat too tight to form words. As I approached, she turned to me, and her warm smile was like a lifeline in rough seas. Without a word, she opened her arms, and I stepped into her embrace. It was safe there, in the circle of her strength. Here, I could allow the facade to crack, the tears that I had held at bay to finally escape their confines.
“Let it all out, Ade,” she whispered against my hair, her voice a soothing balm.
And so I did. My tears soaked into the fabric of her jacket, each droplet carrying away a piece of the weight I’d been carrying. After a moment that was both an eternity and a heartbeat, we pulled back from the hug, and I wiped my eyes with the back of my hand, feeling lighter somehow.
“Blame the hormones,” I said.
“I think I’ll blame Tristan Callahan,” she replied, smiling at me.
I laughed. “Thanks, I needed that,” I managed a watery chuckle, trying to bring some levity back.
“Anytime,” she replied, her tone light but her eyes serious. “You know I’ve got your back.”
With a deep breath, I climbed into the passenger seat, the soft leather cradling me as Carmen slid behind the wheel. She started the engine, and we pulled away smoothly from the curb, leaving behind the shadows of The Fens.
As the buildings began to shrink in the rearview mirror, I couldn’t resist one last glance at the apartment complex that had been a symbol of my vulnerability this morning. It stood there, indifferent, yet somehow less menacing now. A sense of strength bubbled up within me, pushing aside the fear that had taken root. This place, once a breeding ground for paranoia, had become the backdrop for a turning point.
“Where to now?” Carmen asked, her eyes on the road ahead.
“Forward,” I said firmly, meeting her gaze for a brief second before returning my focus to the receding landscape. The future was a murky path, riddled with uncertainty, but I knew one thing for sure: with Carmen by my side, I was ready to face whatever lay ahead.
“Cool, but I meant like, my house?”
I smiled. “Yes. Like your house,” I said while I texted Tristan. Tristan, I’m heading to see Carmen. Need space after everything.
Love…
No. I deleted that, and sent just the first sentence.
As we drove through the city, my heart thrummed against my ribs like a bird desperate for the sky. Tristan wouldn’t be happy about this, but some part of me craved the chaos his anger would bring. At least it was a feeling I understood.
“Adriana, talk to me,” Carmen’s voice cut through my thoughts, her eyes flicking to mine with concern before returning to the road. She knew better than to push too hard, but her silence invited confession.
“Later,” I promised, knowing she’d hold me to it. Carmen never let anything slide, not when it mattered. The tension in the car wasn’t just from the heat blasting against the chill outside—it was expectation, thick as thieves.
“Fine,” she huffed, focusing on navigating the streets. The city gave way to quieter neighborhoods as we approached her home.
Her house appeared, a beacon of normalcy in my tumultuous world. I stepped out of the car, my boots crunching on the snow-dusted path. Relief flooded me as I walked toward the door, the warmth from inside seeming to reach out and pull me away from the cold reality of my life.
Carmen’s place was always welcoming, but today it felt like sanctuary. As the door closed behind us, shutting out the biting cold, something in me unclenched. This was more than a reprieve; it was a chance to breathe, even if just for a moment.
Carmen flicked on the kettle before motioning me toward the living room. “Make yourself comfortable,” she said, her voice a soft command that brooked no argument. I sank into the plush couch, its cushions hugging my form as if they were molded just for me.
“Tea will be ready in a minute.” She disappeared into the kitchen, leaving me surrounded by the quiet hum of her home. The walls were lined with photographs capturing laughter and love, the shelves filled with books that spoke of curiosity and an unquenchable thirst for knowledge.
I noticed she’d taken all of the pictures with her ex-boyfriend down. I hadn’t been around hers for a bit.
Carmen returned with a steaming mug of tea. She handed it to me, the porcelain warm against my palms. She settled beside me, close enough to offer comfort without crowding my space.
“Talk to me when you’re ready,” she said, picking up her own mug. Her gaze never wavered, patient yet piercing in their silent support.
I took a sip, letting the heat seep into my bones, chasing away the lingering frost from outside. “It’s hard, Carm,” I began, the words tumbling out. “Tristan and this life—it’s suffocating sometimes.”
She reached over, her fingers brushing mine—a tether in the whirlwind that was my life. “This world we’re born into, it can be a prison. But Ade, you’ve always been good at finding a way out. Remember that.”
“I mean, I’ve always been good at burying my head in the sand,” I said. “But I can’t exactly do that when the babies get here, can I?”
Carmen took a sip of her own tea. “I don’t know, babe,” she said. “Mom did it, and look at us. We’re perfectly normal.”
I almost choked on my tea. “Carm! The tea is hot!”
“No, but seriously,” she said. “It’s all the same, isn’t it? Find a way out, bury your head in the sand–what difference does it make as long as you keep the children safe and alive?”