CHAPTER 15
Elena
“Yes, we’re already on our way to Judy’s,” I told my parents over FaceTime.
My phone was propped on the dashboard mount, angled toward us. I reached over and unhooked it, turning the camera so they could see Haille in her car seat, completely absorbed in her toys.
“Haille, say hi to Nana and Papa.”
“Haii Nana, haii Papa,” she chirped, waving her little hand.
I smiled as my parents lit up on the screen, laughing and waving back at their granddaughter. My mom signed something quickly, her hands moving with excitement, asking about Adrian.
He glanced over, caught her eye through the screen, and signed a quick greeting back—hi, love you—before returning his focus to the road.
After a few more minutes of small talk, we ended the call.
“Are you excited, Haille?” I asked.
“Yesss, play with Avewyyy!” Haille practically shouted. Her little curls bounced when she said Avery’s name, making her look even more excited.
This weekend, we had promised to have lunch at Judy’s house. She lived close by, which was a lifesaver whenever we needed help with Haille.
Adrian glanced my way. “By the way, I have to leave for the project next week. There’s a problem on site, and they need me there as soon as possible.”
“Okay,” I said quietly, forcing my voice to stay calm.
“If you want, you can ask Mom or Avery to stay over with you,” he added.
“I’ll think about it,” I replied.
“I won’t be long,” Adrian continued. “This work trip should only take about two weeks at most.”
“Alright,” I said. “Where to?”
“Ohio,” he answered.
Silence settled between us for a moment before he reached over and wrapped his fingers around mine.
“I’ll be in touch the whole time, okay?” he murmured. “And call me if anything comes up.”
I didn’t squeeze back. I just stared at our intertwined hands, while that familiar unease quietly tightened in my chest.
Not long after, we pulled up in front of his mother’s house. Adrian parked the car, and before he could even unbuckle, the front door swung open. Judy stood at the entrance, waving both hands like she’d been waiting by the window for the past ten minutes.
“There they are!” she called out.
The moment Adrian carried Haille out of the car, Judy gasped dramatically.
“Oh my goodness! Come here sweetheart!”
Haille wiggled in his arms, reaching toward her grandmother. “Gwanmaaa!”
Judy took her eagerly, pressing a kiss to her cheek. “Hi, my angel. Did you miss Granma?”
I stepped out of the car, smoothing down my shirt. Judy pulled me into a warm hug with her free arm.
“Elena, sweetheart, you look tired,” she said softly, pushing a strand of hair behind my ear. “You should let me take Haille for a full weekend sometime. You need rest.”
I smiled faintly. “I’m okay, Judy. Really.”
A familiar voice called from behind her. “Finally! I thought you guys got lost.”
Avery appeared at the doorway, hair tied up messily, as if she’d rushed down the stairs the moment she heard our car. The second she spotted Haille, her entire face lit up.
“HAILLE-BUG!” she squealed, already reaching for her.
Haille practically launched toward her. “Avewyyy!”
Avery laughed, bouncing her slightly. Then her gaze flicked to me. “You doing okay?” she asked, voice low enough that Judy wouldn’t hear.
I nodded once. “Yeah.”
She studied me for a second.
“Wait, I need to grab something from the car,” I said, already turning.
“I got it,” Adrian cut in before I could move.
He shot me a quick smile as he headed back out. A moment later, he returned with the lasagna in hand.
“Oh, I’ve missed your lasagna so much,” Judy said, eyes lighting up when she saw it.
“Her lasagna really is the best,” Adrian added.
Their praise made me smile. Ahead of us, Avery had already slipped inside with Haille bouncing on her hip. We followed them in. Adrian stayed close beside me, his hand steady on the small of my back as he guided me gently, carrying the lasagna with his other hand.
The moment the door opened fully, the familiar smells rushed out—roasted chicken, baked vegetables, and Judy’s cinnamon rolls fresh from the oven.
Adrian breathed in and grinned. “Smells amazing.”
I couldn’t help smiling. Of course it did. These were Judy’s staples—the comfort dishes Adrian grew up with.
Avery already setting Haille down in the living room where a pile of toys was already waiting for her.
“Toyssss!” Haille squealed.
“You bought more?” I asked Avery, eyeing the new ones.
Avery chuckled. “Yeah. I was out the other day and found some cute ones, so I grabbed them for her.”
“Oh my God, Avery... she hasn’t even played with the old ones yet,” I said, though warmth spread through my chest despite the complaint. I never had siblings, and seeing how much Avery adored my daughter made me quietly grateful that Haille had a fun, loving aunt like her.
“Just let her. She lives for spoiling her niece,” Adrian laughed as he carried the lasagna to the dining table, placing it beside Judy’s dishes with that familiar ease, like this house still held pieces of the boy he used to be long before us, before marriage, before everything we’d been through.
— ? —
Adrian
Being back in this house always pulled something loose inside me. Something old, familiar, and a little painful. There was comfort in it, sure, but there was also an ache that settled in my chest the second I stepped through the door.
It reminded me of my father.
I missed him most when I was here. He should’ve been sitting on the couch, pretending not to fall asleep while watching the news.
He should’ve been teasing Mom about making too much food.
He should’ve been the one lifting Haille onto his lap and letting her tug at his hair until she burst into giggles.
But cancer took him too damn fast.
Sometimes the regret hit harder than the grief.
He barely had time to know Elena, just a handful of dinners, a few short visits back when we were still dating.
But even in that short time, he adored her.
He’d give me a thumbs-up behind her back and mouth something like good catch in that half-teasing way of his.
I used to tell him to cut it out, but secretly, I was proud.
Proud he approved of her. Proud he saw what I saw.
If he were still alive, God, he would’ve loved Haille.
I can picture it so clearly—her running across the living room, curls bouncing, and him pretending he couldn’t catch her even though he was always faster than he looked.
He would’ve taken her fishing the way he used to take me and Avery, shown her how to skip stones across the lake, and let her sit on his shoulders to tell him where to walk like she owned the world.
Sometimes I let myself imagine that version of our life a second too long, and that’s when the guilt set in. Because the truth was, I thanked God every day he wasn’t here to see what I did to Elena.
My father was a family man in every sense of the word, a husband who treated my mother like she hung the damn moon. A father who never missed a game, never missed a birthday, never broke a promise. He was my model of what a man should be.
And I failed—spectacularly—at living up to him.
There were nights when I lay awake next to Elena, and all I could think was how disappointed he would’ve been.
He raised me better than that. He taught me better than that.
He taught me how to lead, how to love, how to show up, and I still managed to screw up the one thing he valued most: protecting the people you love.
Sometimes I still heard him in my head, not angry, just quiet. The kind of disappointment that stayed with you longer than shouting ever could.
And yet, being here—walking through the hallway where his framed photos still hung—made me want to try harder, to be better, to become the man he always believed I could be: the man Elena deserved from the start and the one Haille will one day look up to, the way I once looked up to him.
Maybe that’s why being in this house stung and soothed at the same time. It reminded me of everything I lost, everything I still had, and everything I refused to lose again.
“Earth to Adrian. Hello?” Avery waved her hand inches from my face.
I swatted it away. “What?”
“You’re zoning out,” she said. “What’s going on? I’ve been calling you.”
“Nothing.” I muttered.
She raised a brow. “Elena said you’re leaving for another project.”
“Yeah. I need to be on-site.” I paused. “Can you stay with Elena and Haille?”
“Sure,” Avery replied. “When are you leaving?”
“Monday. I thought I’d have at least until Wednesday or Thursday, but nope.”
“Wow. That’s sudden.”
“You know how my job is, Ave.”
Avery thought for a moment, trying to recall something. “My schedule’s clear next week until Friday. But after that, I’m booked.”
“Ok. Thanks,” I said.
Then my gaze drifted to Elena. She was talking to Mom while keeping an eye on Haille, who was busy playing with her toys.
Usually, Elena looked genuinely excited whenever she talked to my mom.
But this time, something felt off. Her smile looked restrained.
Her responses sounded measured. Like she was there, but not fully present.
I walked over to her.
“Oh, Adrian,” Mom said. “You’re leaving again? That’s too bad.”
“Yeah. Why?” I asked, standing beside Elena.
“Elena mentioned that her office is holding a company picnic this Saturday. Avery can’t go, and I won’t be available this weekend.”
“A company picnic?” I paused, then remembered she had brought it up before. I just hadn’t realized it would fall on the same weekend I’d be away, and I couldn’t cancel the trip. The board was expecting my report.
Elena looked at me. “It’s okay. I’ll just go with Haille,” she said casually.
“Baby, I’m sorry I can’t be there,” I said. “You good, right?”
She shrugged. “It’s fine.”
The answer was flat, like whether I showed up or not made no difference at all.
I didn’t like it. But this wasn’t the place to talk about it, so I leaned in and lowered my voice. “Come with me.”
She looked at me, confused, but didn’t argue. After asking my mom to watch Haille for a bit, she followed me down the hallway toward my old bedroom.
Once inside, I closed the door behind us. Elena sat down on the edge of my old bed.
“What is it?” she asked, genuinely clueless.
I let out a slow breath. “What’s wrong with you?”
“Nothing’s wrong,” she replied. “What’s wrong with you? You suddenly dragged me in here.”
I walked over and sat beside her. “I’m sorry I can’t go to your office event. Are you... upset?”
She shook her head. “You’re always away for work. This isn’t new.”
“Elena,” I said, turning toward her, “if you’re not okay with it, just say it. You don’t have to hold it in.”
She exhaled lightly. “Even if I asked you to come, you wouldn’t be able to. So what’s the point?”
“I don’t want this either,” I replied. “But I can’t cancel it.”
“Well,” she said, voice cool, “as long as you’re really there for work.”
That did it.
“What’s that supposed to mean?” I asked.
“Nothing,” she said, her gaze drifting around the room, a space she’d seen countless times before. It was obvious she was avoiding me.
“How many times do I have to explain this?” I asked, struggling to keep my voice steady.
“How many times do I have to prove it?” I continued. “How long are we going to live like this?”
She finally looked at me. “I already forgave you. Does that mean I’m not allowed to bring it up anymore?”
“Yes,” I said. The word came out harder than I meant, but I didn’t take it back.
Elena let out a breath, slow and tired. “Fine,” she said. “I’m going to head out.”
She pushed herself up from the edge of the bed, already turning toward the door, as if the conversation had reached its end.
I didn’t let her. I caught her wrist, stopping her before she could take another step, and pulled her back toward me. The movement was sudden. She lost her balance and fell back onto the bed, the mattress dipping beneath her as I followed her down.
Before she could react, I kissed her—hard.
If this was what she needed, proof, reassurance, something physical to push back against the distance between us, then I would give it to her again and again, as many times as it took.
For a moment she froze. Her hands fisted briefly in my shirt before she kissed me back. Her lips moved with the same urgency, the same heat, the kiss stretching on and consuming everything we could no longer say out loud.
And still, even with her body close, even with her mouth answering mine, I felt it.
She was here, but some part of her was still far away.