18. Eliana
Eliana
I stood at the edge of the beach for several seconds, unable to reconcile the man in front of me with the Adrian I had come to know.
His shoulders were tense, his head bowed slightly, and moonlight caught the tears slipping silently down his face.
I had never seen him like this. Not during our arguments, not when things became difficult, not even during the moments when something painful seemed to pass through his eyes before he quickly covered it with a smile.
For once, Adrian wasn't hiding it.
I walked toward him slowly and lowered myself onto the sand beside him.
I didn't ask anything at first. I simply sat there, close enough for him to know he wasn't alone but far enough to give him whatever space he needed.
The ocean rolled toward the shore and retreated again, its steady rhythm filling the silence between us.
After several minutes, Adrian finally wiped his face with the back of his hand. When he looked at me, there was a faint attempt at a smile.
"You should be asleep," he said softly.
I studied him. "So should you."
He looked toward the water. "I couldn't sleep."
"Because you were crying?"
His eyes dropped.
For a moment, he didn't answer.
I reached for his hand and held it gently. "Adrian, what hurts you this much?"
He gave a small shake of his head. "It's nothing."
I almost smiled at the familiar answer, but there was no amusement in me tonight.
"You've said that before."
He looked at me.
"You said it when your sister warned you about me.
You said it when your grandmother gave you that key.
You've said it every time I've asked a question you weren't ready to answer.
" I swallowed, trying to keep my voice steady.
"And I've let you get away with it because I thought maybe you needed time. "
Adrian's fingers tightened around mine.
"But I've seen the sadness in your eyes since the day we met," I continued. "Every time you look at me, there's something there. Sometimes it feels like you're happy to see me, and at the same time, it feels as though you're mourning something I've never known existed."
His expression changed.
I felt my chest tighten.
"I don't know what you're remembering when you look at me," I whispered. "I don't know what happened to you before I came into your life, and I don't know why your family looks at me as though they know something I don't. But I know you're hurting."
He turned his face toward me.
I squeezed his hand. "And I don't want to be someone you love while keeping me outside the parts of your life that matter most."
Adrian stared at me for a long time.
Then, instead of answering my questions, he lifted our joined hands and pressed his lips against my knuckles.
"I love you."
The words were simple.
They still left me completely speechless.
I searched his face, waiting for uncertainty, hesitation, or some indication that he had said them simply because he didn't know what else to say.
There was none.
His eyes held nothing but certainty.
"I love you," he repeated, his voice lower this time. "More than I know how to explain."
My throat tightened.
I looked down at our hands and remembered everything that had happened since the day he entered my life.
The flowers that appeared when I least expected them.
The coffee and breakfast waiting for me because he'd somehow known I would skip the meal.
The way he remembered the smallest things about me, even the things I'd never told him.
The way he watched me whenever he thought I wasn't looking.
The way he'd played my favorite song without ever being told.
The way he'd looked at me in the cottage as though being beside me was something he'd waited years to experience.
Suddenly, all those moments felt connected by something I couldn't quite name.
I looked back at him.
"I love you too."
Adrian's breathing seemed to stop for a second.
I smiled through the tears gathering in my eyes. "I think I fell in love with you before I even realized what was happening."
His expression softened, and he lifted his free hand toward my face. His fingertips brushed gently beneath my eye, catching a tear before it could fall.
"But I need something from you," I said.
His hand remained against my cheek. "Anything."
"Honesty."
He became still.
"I don't need you to tell me everything tonight," I continued. "I understand that there are things you're not ready to talk about. But I need to know that when you finally decide to tell me, you won't give me another excuse or another half-truth."
Adrian's thumb moved slowly across my cheek.
"I won't."
"And the things your family knows?"
"I'll tell you."
"The woman at the clinic?"
His gaze flicked away for the briefest moment before returning to mine.
"Everything."
"When?"
He exhaled slowly. "When the time is right."
I wanted to challenge him. I wanted to demand that he tell me what Doctor Lara had to do with him, why Sophia had been afraid for him, why Eleanor had given him that old key, and why every answer seemed to lead me toward another mystery.
But looking at him now, sitting beside me beneath the stars with tears still visible on his face, I couldn't bring myself to turn his vulnerability into an interrogation.
"How much longer?" I asked softly.
"A little more time."
I studied his face.
"Promise me you aren't keeping these things from me because you don't trust me."
"I trust you more than anyone."
"Then why?"
His eyes lowered.
"Because some truths don't belong to just one person."
The answer confused me, but there was such pain in his voice that I didn't push further.
He gently cupped my face between both hands. "I know I've asked you to trust me without giving you every reason to. I know that's unfair."
"Yes," I whispered.
A faint smile touched his lips.
"But I'm asking anyway."
I rested my hands over his wrists.
"I'll try."
"That's all I need."
I leaned closer until my forehead rested against his. The warmth of his skin contrasted with the cool ocean breeze brushing across us. Somewhere behind the cottage, the trees moved softly in the summer wind.
For the first time, I allowed myself to stop fighting every unanswered question.
Ethan's warnings returned to my mind.
The rumors about Adrian's former girlfriend.
The accident.
The woman at the clinic.
Sophia's frightened eyes.
The locked door in the cottage.
The key Eleanor had given Adrian.
There were too many things I didn't understand.
Yet none of them changed what I felt when Adrian looked at me.
Maybe trusting someone didn't mean knowing every secret they carried.
Maybe it meant believing that when they finally opened the door, they would let you walk through it instead of leaving you standing outside.
I looked into his eyes.
"I'll trust you," I whispered. "But don't make me regret it."
Something painful crossed his face.
"I never could."
He pulled me into his arms, and I rested my head against his chest. His heartbeat was steady beneath my cheek, and for several minutes we simply stayed there, listening to the ocean.
I didn't know what Adrian was hiding.
I didn't know why loving me seemed to hurt him almost as much as it made him happy.
I didn't know why his family looked at me as though my presence had awakened something they had spent years trying to bury.
But that night, beneath a sky filled with stars, I chose to believe him.
For a little while, I let myself imagine that love could be simple.
That two people could find each other, fall in love, and choose each other without the past demanding anything in return.
I didn't know then how fragile that hope was.
And I certainly didn't know that the truth Adrian had promised to tell me would change everything I thought I knew about us.
By the time the first light of dawn began spreading across the horizon, Adrian and I had returned to the cottage.
The sky had turned a soft blue-gray above the ocean, and the last stars were disappearing one by one as the early summer morning slowly took over the night.
I felt different somehow, as though something between us had changed permanently.
We had finally spoken about the things we'd both been avoiding, and although Adrian still hadn't told me everything, I had given him something I had been reluctant to give anyone for a long time: my trust.
We made coffee together in the small kitchen, moving around each other with an ease that hadn't existed when we'd first arrived.
Adrian stood beside the counter with his sleeves pushed up while I watched him prepare breakfast. Every now and then, our eyes met, and neither of us needed to say anything.
For once, I wasn't trying to figure him out. I was simply happy to be there.
Then his phone rang.
Adrian glanced at the screen and answered immediately. "Hello?" I was reaching for my coffee when I noticed the change in his face. Whatever he heard made the softness disappear from his expression.
"Is Grandma all right?" he asked, his voice suddenly tense. He listened for several seconds before asking, "How bad is it?" He turned away from me and walked toward the window, his free hand moving to the back of his neck as he listened. A few moments later, he said, "I'm leaving now."
He ended the call and stood still for a moment.
"What happened?" I asked.
He turned toward me. "There's been a fire."
My stomach tightened. "Where?"
"At one of my grandmother's properties. Margaret's warehouse was set on fire during the night. Part of the gardens were damaged too."
"Is she hurt?" I asked, my concern rising.
"No. She's safe." He reached for his phone again and checked the screen. "The fire was contained, but I need to go back."
I nodded immediately. "Of course."
Adrian moved around the kitchen, gathering his things with a speed that told me how badly he wanted to leave. He picked up his jacket, checked his phone again, and slipped his wallet into his pocket before looking at me.
"I'm sorry," he said. "I didn't want our trip to end like this."