Chapter 16
SIXTEEN
Rule Number Thirteen of Adeline’s Guide to Overcoming Loneliness: Adeline, I’ll spare you any more rules, and if you choose to forget any of the others, remember this.
When loneliness leaves, let it go. It was a companion for a while—a lesson—but it was never meant to last forever.
When that day finally comes, let the walls you built in loneliness crumble and free your hands to hold onto something that matters more.
My heart stops at the sound of my name, uttered in a voice I never expected to hear again. “Addie?” Slowly, I turn around to see Vivienne St. Claire, of all people, standing before me with a look of disbelief in her eyes, as if she can’t believe it’s really me. As if she cares.
Her name tastes bittersweet on my tongue. “Vivienne.”
She smiles, but it’s tentative, unsure of her reception.
My own lips twitch into something resembling a smile, though the knot of emotions tightening in my chest makes it feel forced.
Out of the corner of my eye, I see Lilia’s jaw practically hit the floor beside me, with Bea next to her looking between us like she can’t believe what she’s seeing.
Liam just looks like he’s about to laugh.
Vivienne steps closer, her wide blue eyes scanning my face like she’s trying to memorize it.
“Oh my god, it really is you,” she says, her voice tinged with something I can’t quite place—surprise, nostalgia, maybe even guilt.
“How are things? I heard about… what happened. To John. I’m so sorry,” she continues, her tone soft, but I can’t help but hear the pity in her words.
The knot in my chest tightens. Of course, it would come up.
People always feel the need to bring up that.
The thing that shattered my life, the thing I can barely talk about without breaking.
And despite her concern feeling more or less genuine, I’ve learned not to trust appearances.
People’s expressions lie just as much as their words do.
I shrug, trying to feign nonchalance. “It’s okay,” I say, the lie tasting bitter on my tongue. It’s not okay, of course.
For a moment, her gaze falters, and she looks as though she might say more. Instead, she asks, “How’s Ari been? I haven’t seen him in so long.”
It feels like the ground shifts beneath me.
My heart stops, my pulse pounding in my ears. I stare at her, uncomprehending.
She doesn’t know? How can she not know? Does she not watch the news? Did no one tell her?
“You’re telling me you don’t know?” The words come out sharper than I intend, and Vivienne’s brows knit together, her confusion plain as day. Is it possible she really doesn’t know? But that doesn’t make any sense because everyone knew.
“Know what?” she asks, her voice cautious.
I feel the air leave my lungs as the words I never wanted to ever say push their way out. “He’s gone, Vivienne.” There’s that word again. The word that’s been haunting me lately. I don’t realize I’ve been biting my lip until I taste the blood in my mouth.
And Vivienne’s face pales. Her lips part as if to respond, but no words come. I watch as her expression shifts—first disbelief, then something closer to dread. Her voice trembles when she finally speaks. “What do you mean, ‘gone’?”
But I can see it in her eyes, the truth she’s already piecing together but doesn’t want to believe. Her hands tremble slightly as she covers her mouth, her gaze dropping to the floor. “No,” she whispers.
“I’m sorry,” I say quietly, my voice steadier than I feel. I can’t bring myself to say it more plainly than that. I won’t.
My gaze meets Kai’s narrowed eyes, as they flick between Vivienne and I with a quiet curiosity.
When they finally land and stop on me, I almost can’t stand the intensity in his gaze.
But before I can look away, or even say anything, a flurry of motion erupts around us.
Cameras flash, questions are shouted, and the air suddenly fills with absolute chaos as people holding cameras descend like vultures.
“Kai! A quick word?”
“Miss St. Claire, who’s your friend?”
“Kai! Kai! Kai!”
Questions on questions about Liam, Will, and Christian too, that make my head spin.
And yet, they all remain completely composed despite the cameras and microphones currently being thrust in their faces.
The scene grows louder, more frantic, as some of the paparazzi attempt to inch closer.
One of them even grabs Kai’s arm, which he politely, but quickly, shrugs off.
Vivienne’s head jerks up, her face still pale, her eyes glassy.
She looks at me, as if torn between staying and running.
And then, the mask slips back on. The practiced smile, the polished composure.
“This is a private event. No unauthorized photography,” one of the security members says, then I see him mutter something into the mic attached to his suit lapel.
Suddenly, the security guards spring into action, a team of them, with the dark suits and earpieces I had noticed at the front gate. “Step back!” one of them commands, positioning himself between Vivienne and the paparazzi, raising a hand to block the cameras.
Meanwhile I watch in utter shock as the security guards pull—I mean drag—the paparazzi away and out of the building.
“Keep moving,” a guard orders, and within minutes the chaos is subdued.
Vivienne, still wearing her practiced smile, offers a polite thank-you to one of the guards as he steps aside, giving her space to breathe.
Liam mutters something under his breath about how they always make a scene.
And then through the stampede of people, I spot him—Kai’s terrifying father. He’s moving toward us, and I swear his presence is like a thundercloud rolling into the room. He’s accompanied by an equally scary woman.
Yep, that’s my cue.
“Excuse me,” I mutter, seizing the opportunity to slip away unnoticed back to Lilia and Bea.
“What just happened?” Lilia demands, her voice pitched with disbelief as she stares at me like she can’t figure me out.
“You’re friends with Vivienne St. Claire?” Bea cuts straight to the point.
“Not really. She’s a friend of a friend,” I say, but an approaching figure cuts me off just as I’m about to say more.
And by approaching figure, I mean a sprinting figure.
“Addie!” Ajax exclaims, skidding to a halt in front of me, one hand clutching his chest like he’s been mortally wounded. “I seriously thought I was hallucinating for a second.”
His tie is tied wrong.
I blink at him, momentarily caught off guard. “Uh, surprise?” It comes out more like a question than a greeting.
He narrows his eyes, faux-serious. “Please explain.”
I can’t help the small smile tugging at my lips. “I’m just here to give my friend her phone back. She left it behind, and she really wanted photos. Then this terrifying woman dragged me in here, and—well,” I gesture vaguely at the chaos around us. “Here I am.”
“Wait, Lucy?” Lilia chimes in from behind, rolling her eyes. “That woman makes me want to commit war crimes.”
Ajax’s eyes widen with curiosity, his interest piqued. “Wait–for her phone? Well, where is it now?” he asks, looking around like the phone might magically appear in front of him.
Sighing, I reach into the pocket of this ridiculous dress and pull out Camille’s phone. “Right here,” I say, holding it up, and in a swift motion, Ajax snatches the phone from my hand, a mischievous grin spreading across his face.
I cross my arms, watching as he starts snapping pictures of himself at rapid speed, tilting his head this way and that. “Typical,” Bea mutters, clearly unimpressed. “Doesn’t even have the decency to take a group photo first. That’s low.”
Ajax scoffs, holding the phone just out of her reach as she lunges for it. “I was getting to that.”
He angles the phone again, including us all in the frame this time. “Say cheese!” he shouts, though he doesn’t wait for anyone to pose before taking at least ten rapid shots.
The result? A gallery completely filled, and way too many photos of the rest of us looking either confused or blurred.
“Wow,” Bea deadpans, leaning over to see the photos. “You’re really bad at this.”
“I call it art,” Ajax says with a wink.
***
Making my way through the crowd, serving drinks to more and more obnoxious individuals, I can’t help feeling that I’ve been here way too long. My mum and sisters are waiting, and I’ve barely done what I came here to do.
“Hey, guys,” I say, finding my group again, and mustering a small smile. “I really need to go. But I’ll see you all at school, okay?”
Lilia looks at me with concern, her brows knitting together. “Are you sure you’re okay to go back by yourself?”
I nod quickly, too quickly. “Yeah, I’m fine. Don’t worry about me.” My voice comes out more confident than I feel, and I turn before anyone can press further.
I step outside, the cool night air hitting me in the face as I reach into my pocket to call for an Uber, but something stops me.
Taking a few more steps, I see a boy. A little boy sitting alone on a nearby bench, his expression twisted into something resembling anger.
Frustration? He looks about ten, maybe younger.
My curiosity drives me forward, as usual.
“Hey there,” I call softly, walking over. “Is it alright if I sit here?”
The boy glances up, his eyes sharp but tired. He nods once, giving me permission, but still barely acknowledges me, so I sit at the edge of the bench, leaving plenty of space between us.
“You okay?” I ask gently.
For a moment, he doesn’t respond, his gaze fixed on the ground. Finally, he mumbles, “My dad told me to wait out here. Because I don’t want to go in.”
“Why not?” I ask, pulling my coat tighter around me. “It’s lonely out here. And cold.”
He shrugs, his small shoulders barely moving. “It makes me sad,” he admits. “I don’t want to.”
Something about the raw honesty of his words stings. I lean forward, resting my elbows on my knees. “Why does it make you sad?”