CHAPTER 9
Elena
The conversation with that woman meant nothing. It didn’t even feel like a conversation, just noise coming from someone who would never understand the damage she caused.
“I’m sure you know who I am,” I said, my voice steady. “And I’m sure you know exactly why I’m calling.”
Silence. Coward.
“You knew he was married,” I continued. “You knew he had a wife. And you still kept pursuing him. Why?”
Another beat of silence. I could hear her breathing, uneven.
When she finally spoke, her voice was thin. “I didn’t want trouble... I just needed help.”
“And you chose a married man,” I said. “Out of everyone in your life, you chose the one person with a family.”
“I—I didn’t mean—”
“Stop.” My voice sliced clean. “You knew exactly what you were doing. Don’t insult both of us by pretending otherwise.”
Her breath shifted—just enough to reveal the truth beneath it.
“Adrian wasn’t innocent,” she whispered. “He chose to be with me. Don’t you think that meant something?”
She continued, bolder now, “He still had that lingering college fantasy. It only took one moment. One slip.”
God... it hurt to hear it, because she was right. This wasn’t a moment that slipped out of control. It was a decision, and that made it entirely his fault.
“I don’t need you to tell me he wasn’t innocent.” I swallowed hard, forcing the sting down before it could reach my voice. “None of it would’ve happened if you had even a shred of integrity,” I replied.
“Integrity doesn’t matter,” she said flatly. “I needed his money, and he wanted me.”
For a second, everything inside me went very, very still. “Is that what you tell yourself at night?” I asked quietly. “That he wanted you? That you were special? That he came to you because he couldn’t resist old feelings?”
She exhaled sharply, defensive. “What else would it be? That’s the fact.”
“No,” I said. “The fact is he chose to end whatever you think this was. If it meant anything, he would’ve stayed. He didn’t. He came home. He regretted it the second it happened.”
“Elena—”
“No.” My voice cut through hers. “You think bringing up some old college crush changes anything? He married me. He built a life with me. A family. The one you tried to wedge yourself into.”
Silence on her end.
“And if you still think you have a place in this story,” I said softly, almost gently, “let me remind you: you were a moment. A mistake. A small, forgettable episode.”
A beat.
“I’m the one who decides how this ends. Not you.”
I drew in a calm breath.
“Now, about the money—you’ll return every dollar. To me. Not Adrian. You will never contact him again.”
A pause.
Then she muttered, bitter and low, “...Fine.”
And she hung up.
Just like that. No apology. No remorse.
Not that I expected any from a woman who lived her life in the shadows of other people’s marriages. But still, when the call ended, there was no sense of relief. My chest was pounding.
I was furious.
How could she feel no guilt whatsoever? How could she not even try to apologize after tearing apart someone else’s marriage?
I walked to the sink, turned on the faucet, and splashed water on my face, hoping it would cool the heat in my chest, hoping it would steady my breathing. I needed to look composed before stepping back out there, before facing people and pretending I was fine, before putting the mask back on.
When I stepped out of the restroom, I took one last steadying breath and fixed my expression to look neutral. Or so I hoped.
I walked back to my desk, but before I could sit down, Harley spun his chair toward me, brows lifted in that annoyingly observant way he had.
“Everything okay?” he asked. His tone was casual, but his eyes weren’t.
I forced a small nod. “I’m fine.”
Harley hummed, unconvinced. “Uh-huh. That’s exactly what people say right before they collapse dramatically onto the floor.” He paused. “Should I prepare a mattress? Or just catch you in my arms when it happens?”
I shot him a flat look. “Harley.”
He grinned, but it was softer this time. “Alright, alright. I’ll behave.”
I set my phone down on the table, trying to focus on the spreadsheet on my screen. My fingers hovered over my keyboard, but my mind was still miles away, replaying a voice I wished I hadn’t heard today.
“You look... rattled,” he murmured, quieter than before.
“I’m fine,” I repeated, this time more firmly.
Harley leaned back in his chair, studying me for a moment before nodding slowly.
“Alright,” he said. “If you say you’re fine, I’ll believe you.” Then, “Just... don’t carry everything alone, okay? You’re allowed to ask for help.”
The sincerity in his voice made my throat tighten. I looked back at my screen, blinking away the sting in my eyes.
“Get back to work, Harley,” I said softly.
He smiled like he already knew that was my version of thank you.
“Yes, boss.”
— ? —
Adrian
I was reviewing the project schedule with two of my colleagues, going through the progress line by line. The timeline was slipping again, part of the site still wasn’t handed over by the owner, which meant half the team was stuck waiting for clearance.
“We can’t keep pushing this task into the next window,” one of them said.
“I know,” I replied, rubbing my jaw. “But until the owner releases that section, we can’t move equipment in. Coordinate with their rep again. I want an update by tomorrow morning.”
They nodded.
Just as I was flipping to the next page of the report, my phone vibrated on the table.
“Go ahead,” one of my colleagues said. “We can continue after.”
I nodded, picking it up, only for my brows to pull together when I saw the caller ID.
Phoebe.
My jaw tightened.
I excused myself and stepped back into my office, shutting the door behind me before answering.
“What do you want?” I snapped.
Her voice came sharp and irritated. “Why did you give your wife my number?”
“She asked for it.” My tone was flat, uninterested. “Did she call you?”
“Yes!” She yelled at me. “She insulted me.”
A humorless scoff escaped me. “Well, she has every right to it. This entire mess is on you and me.”
“You need to control your wife,” Phoebe hissed.
“Watch your mouth, Phoebe,” I said, my voice dropping low and cold. “You don’t get to talk about her like that. Not after everything.”
Silence. Whether she was shocked or offended, I didn’t care.
Finally, she exhaled sharply. “I’m sorry. I was just... shocked.”
Another breath. “And Adrian... did you really mean it? To end us?”
I closed my eyes for a second, forcing my temper down. “There was no us, for fuck’s sake, Phoebe. It was a mistake.”
“But that night—”
“You wanted it to happen, Phoebe. And I let you.” My jaw tightened. “That was my fault. My mistake. And if you don’t have anything to say other than your debt, I’m ending this call.”
“Wait, Adrian—”
“What?” The word came out colder than I intended, but I didn’t care anymore.
“About the debt. I promise I’ll pay it back.” I let out a slow, sharp breath through my nose, irritation flaring again.
“Of course you should. Otherwise, I’ll take legal action.”
“Adrian—”
“I said enough.” My voice dropped, controlled and final, the kind of tone that leaves no room for argument.
“Don’t call me again unless it’s about returning the money.”
Without waiting for her answer, I hung up. It was the only thing that felt right, something I should’ve done the very first time she tried to reach me.