CHAPTER 16
Elena
I straightened my clothes and got up from the bed. Adrian was already sitting at the edge of it, his posture calm, but his eyes never left me.
I could still feel the heat of his kiss on my lips. Honestly, I was caught off guard when he pulled me and kissed me like that. It felt as if the frustration inside him had finally boiled over, and he needed to prove something physically because words no longer worked.
And the truth was, I didn’t understand him today.
He was the one who suddenly said he had to leave for the project, the one who couldn’t come to my office event, yet somehow he was the one who looked offended by it.
As if I should be sad. As if his presence or absence still held the same weight it used to.
Meanwhile, I no longer cared. Whether he came or not didn’t make any difference.
“I’m going to check on Haille,” I said, before stopping myself when something crossed my mind. “By the way, take Haille out tomorrow. You’re leaving for two weeks. She deserves time with you before that.”
Our eyes locked. “I won’t be going with you. I have a salon appointment tomorrow.”
He didn’t respond, not a word, not even a hum.
I exhaled and walked toward the door, leaving him behind with his unreadable thoughts. But before my hand touched the doorknob, his voice cut through the quiet.
“Elena...”
There was a hesitation in it this time—faint, but enough to make me turn.
He lowered his gaze for a moment, as if choosing between silence and vulnerability, then looked back up.
“Do you love me?”
The question fell between us like a weight—not a plea, not hope—but a man grasping for a reason not to fall apart completely.
I paused. Then drew a breath, steadying myself.
“I’m here because I love you,” I said quietly. “And that should be enough.”
I saw it then—the flicker in his eyes. Relief and devastation tangled together before he forced his expression still. He looked away briefly, jaw tightening, as if swallowing the answer he truly wanted.
Because deep down, we both knew—love alone was no longer enough to save us.
— ? —
I was never someone who put much thought into my appearance. As long as I looked presentable and neat, that was usually enough for me. But after I stopped breastfeeding Haille—sometime after she turned one, when my milk supply slowly dwindled—I found myself paying closer attention to how I looked.
I started working out at home whenever I could, wanting to ease my body back into itself after giving birth.
I scheduled monthly beauty treatments, visited the salon more often, and took better care of my skin and hair.
There was something quietly reassuring about taking time for myself, about doing things simply because they made me feel better.
Jessica let out a playful whistle as she approached my desk, setting the coffee I’d texted her about beside my keyboard.
“Ooo, look at you,” she teased. “Freshly dyed hair.”
“Oh, please. It’s nothing,” I said, trying—and failing—to hide my smile. I couldn’t help it. I liked hearing that.
“Finally ditched the dirty blonde,” she said. “This color suits you way better. You look fresher.”
“Yeah,” I said. “Just wanted a change.”
“Hey,” Jessica said casually, “are you coming this Saturday?”
I nodded. “Yeah. Just me and Haille.”
Her eyes widened. “Wait, Adrian can’t make it?”
“No,” I said. “Work came up. He had to go to a site.”
“Aww, that sucks. You won’t be able to join the competition then,” she sighed dramatically. “There goes our division’s ace. We’re definitely losing.”
“Then you watch my kid if you want to win that badly,” I shot back.
She laughed. “Please, dealing with my own kids later is already going to be chaos.”
“I’ll do it,” Harley suddenly chimed in from his seat.
“Oh please,” Jessica scoffed. “You’d be terrified.”
“Not a chance,” Harley said proudly. “I’m everyone’s favorite uncle.”
I rolled my eyes.
Just then, my phone buzzed. I glanced at the screen, it was Adrian, video calling. I frowned slightly. Lately, he’d been video calling me more often during work hours. Even if it was brief, he checked in a lot.
I raised a hand slightly toward Jessica and Harley, signaling that I was on a call.
“Yeah?” I answered, lightly fiddling with my coffee cup as I took the call.
“Hey,” Adrian said. Behind him was the airport waiting lounge.
“Hey. What’s up?” I asked.
“Nothing,” he said. “Just checking in. What are you up to?”
“Not much, just chatting with Jess,” I replied.
“Hellooo,” Jessica called out from behind me. “Relax, your wife is actually working.”
I turned my head toward her. “What is wrong with you?”
Adrian laughed softly at that.
“Alright then,” he said. “Have a good day at work, baby.”
“You too,” I replied, ending the call.
Jessica raised an eyebrow. “Wow. He suddenly calling you like that.”
“He does that all the time,” I said with a small shrug.
She smirked. “Must be missing you.”
“It’s not even been a day,” I replied. “Hardly enough time to start missing anyone.”
Jessica hummed, her eyes flicking over me as she made a loose, sweeping gesture with her hand. “Or maybe he’s worried someone else might steal you. Especially now that you’re looking like this.”
I scoffed, waving her off. “Oh, please. Go back to work before your boss comes hunting for you.”
“Okay, okay,” she laughed, backing away.
I reached for my coffee. “So... am I paying for this, or is it on the house?”
“On the house,” she said. “I’m feeling generous today.”
I smiled. “Thanks, Jess.”
— ? —
Adrian
I didn’t call her to check on her, because I already knew exactly where she was. Her location had settled at the office hours ago, the familiar pin unmoving, precise. She was safe. She was working. Nothing was wrong, and that was never the reason I called her.
I called because she had stopped telling me, and I needed to make sure she didn’t forget I still existed in her daily life, even when I wasn’t physically there.
Elena used to let me know when she arrived, not because she had to, but because she wanted to.
It was a simple message, a habit, a quiet acknowledgment that I still mattered in the small, ordinary rhythms of her day.
She used to tell me whether she’d just reached the office, stepped out for lunch, gone out with friends, or was heading home after work.
Her face appeared on my screen when she picked up. She was beautiful in that restrained way she’d learned after me. I watched her carefully while we spoke.
When the call ended, I didn’t rush to put my phone away. I stared at the dark screen a second longer, before locking it and sliding it into my pocket.
In therapy, I’d said it plainly. If she pulled back, I moved forward. If she distanced herself, I closed the gap. I wasn’t doing it to cage her or control her, but because I refused to be the man who stood still while his wife slowly slipped away.
And it wasn’t just that she stopped updating me, she stopped reaching for me first. She no longer asked where I was the way she used to, no longer filled the silence between us with questions or small reassurances.
I understood why. God, I understood it better than anyone. I was the one who broke that sense of safety. But understanding didn’t mean I was willing to accept the distance as permanent.
When my plane landed, I didn’t head straight to the hotel. Instead, I went directly to the project site. Work was already waiting for me there, and it pulled me in before my thoughts could linger on Elena for too long.
Once I was geared up—safety vest, boots, and hard hat—I went straight to the reports, giving instructions to the team on site. One of the engineers stood by the temporary table, papers spread out in front of him, frustration visible on his face.
“We’ve got a problem with the material calculation,” he said. “The steel delivered last week isn’t enough for the revised load. That’s why we’re behind.”
I scanned the numbers once. That was all it took.
“Someone used the old soil assumption,” I said. “That margin doesn’t exist anymore.”
He nodded. “Exactly.”
“Order the additional supply. Revised quantities. I’ll sign off on it.”
“There’ll be pushback from procurement.”
“Let them push,” I replied calmly. “The site doesn’t move without the material. End of discussion.”
That was the part of my life that still worked—decisions, control, responsibility. Here, I didn’t hesitate or doubt myself. People listened because they knew I never spoke without reason.
If only marriage worked the same way.
The meeting continued—timelines adjusted, delays explained, solutions assigned—and still, between reports and figures, I found myself thinking of Elena. Of the way this job kept dragging me away from her physically, and how absence only widened what was already fragile between us.
Being gone meant missing moments, and that was the real problem.
It wasn’t about the distance or the work.
It was the fact that she learned how to exist without me filling every space.
I could handle late nights, delayed projects, or pressure.
What I refused to handle was becoming irrelevant in my own marriage.
I finished the discussion, dismissed the team, and stood alone for a moment in the quiet that followed. My shoulders were steady and my expression controlled, but beneath that discipline something cold and resolute settled into place.
Elena might pull away. She might go quiet or stop reaching for me first. But I wasn’t going anywhere. I would remind her—without begging, without explaining, without asking permission—that I was still here. That we were still here.
And if she ever forgot us, I’d make damn sure she remembered.