CHAPTER 25
Elena
Another day passed.
I woke with the echo of last night still clinging to me—not as a dream, but as a sequence of sounds my body remembered before my mind fully caught up. The bedroom door opening. The careful way it creaked, like whoever stood on the other side didn’t want to be heard.
In the memory, I stayed still, my breathing slow and even, my face turned toward the wall, pretending sleep came easily when it didn’t.
I remembered the closet door opening as he reached for clothes, the faint rustle of fabric breaking the quiet.
I remembered the door closing again—softly, deliberately.
Adrian left our bedroom and didn’t come back.
I got out of bed and forced myself toward the bathroom, moving on instinct rather than intention. I went through the motions the way I always did. I didn’t think. I didn’t feel. I just let my body follow what was familiar.
When I stepped out, wrapped in a towel, I checked the baby monitor.
Haille was already awake.
And Adrian was there.
I froze, watching the screen. He had just stepped into her room, lifting her easily into his arms, murmuring something that made her giggle.
He kissed her cheek, then her hair, holding her close in that familiar, practiced way.
Something warm flickered in my chest—relief, affection—and at the same time it tightened painfully, like joy I wasn’t allowed to fully claim.
I set the monitor down before I could linger on it. Got dressed. Went downstairs.
The kitchen smelled faintly of coffee beans, but no coffee had been made.
I cracked eggs into a bowl, whisked them slowly, toasted bread, sliced fruit, moving carefully and methodically, as if following the routine precisely might keep everything from unraveling.
The quiet hummed around me, fragile but intact.
A few minutes later, footsteps padded down the stairs.
Haille came down holding Adrian’s hand.
“Mommy!”
I turned just in time to catch her as she let go of him and ran toward me, arms already outstretched.
“There you are,” I smiled, crouching slightly as she collided with me. I pressed a kiss to her cheek. “Good morning, sunshine.”
She beamed. “I playyy with Daddy!”
“I saw,” I said softly, brushing a curl from her forehead. “Did you have fun?”
She nodded enthusiastically. “Yes! Flying. Whoosh.” She lifted her arms dramatically, reenacting it with complete seriousness.
Behind her, Adrian hovered near the kitchen entrance. Dressed. Ready. Watching.
I didn’t look at him.
I kissed Haille’s other cheek, lingering just a second longer than necessary, grounding myself in the warmth of her skin. “Go wash your hands, okay? Breakfast’s almost ready.”
“Okayyy!” She ran off.
The silence stretched between us—not awkward, not hostile. Just empty.
Adrian cleared his throat once, then bent to help Haille at the sink. No words passed between us. No accidental brushes. No shared looks. We moved around each other like people who knew the shape of the space but avoided standing too close.
When it was time to leave, Adrian leaned down and kissed Haille’s forehead.
“Be good for Mommy, alright?” he said gently.
“I will,” she promised, serious as always.
He smiled faintly. “I’ll see you later, bug.”
I watched him grab his keys and head out, the door closing behind him without a glance back.
— ? —
Jessica was already leaning against my desk when I arrived at the office, sipping her coffee as I dropped my bag onto my chair.
She looked up once and frowned immediately. “Okay... no. What’s wrong with you?”
I met her gaze slowly. “Good morning to you too.”
“You look like someone unplugged you overnight,” she said, lowering her voice as she leaned against my desk. “Month-end close is done. You survived. Why do you look... empty?”
I leaned back in my chair, exhaling. “I think I just need a break.”
Jessica studied me for a long moment. “Like... a sleep break?” she asked carefully. “Or a life break?”
I didn’t answer.
She nodded once, like that was answer enough. “Alright. Lunch with me later. No excuses.”
I gave a small nod. “Okay.”
Jessica was just about to head back to her desk when footsteps echoed from the direction of Thomas’s office. The glass door opened, and Harley stepped out, rolling his sleeves a little higher, his expression neutral but far too focused for that early in the morning.
Jessica stopped in her tracks.
“Huh,” she said, squinting. “That’s rare. You just got in and you’re already meeting with Thomas? What’s going on?”
Harley glanced at his watch casually. “Nothing. Just a quick thing.”
Jessica let out a quiet scoff. “Your ‘quick things’ are never actually quick.”
He let out a short laugh but didn’t respond. His gaze drifted—brief, almost instinctive—toward my desk. It lasted no more than a second.
I stayed where I was, one hand resting on the desk as my other reached for the laptop, pressing the power button and waiting for the screen to come to life. I kept my eyes on the loading bar, on anything that would keep me from looking up.
Jessica noticed the glance and lifted a brow, giving him a look that said she’d clocked it.
Harley raised a brow. “What?”
“Nothing,” Jessica waved him off. “Whatever. I’m going back to work.”
“Yeah,” he replied. “What are you even doing hanging around here this early?”
“Because I can,” Jessica shot back, already stepping away. She glanced at me once. “Lunch later, okay? Don’t disappear.”
I gave a small nod. “Okay.”
Jessica finally walked away, leaving a space between us that suddenly felt quieter than it should have.
Harley lingered for a moment, then moved closer, stopping beside my desk without sitting. He kept a respectful distance, but his presence was unmistakable.
“Coffee?” he asked.
I looked up. “Later.”
He studied me for a moment longer than necessary. “You usually already have coffee by now.”
“Routines aren’t mandatory,” I replied calmly, turning back to my screen.
“Hm.”
He didn’t leave right away.
“You look... different,” he said after a beat.
His tone was even, not teasing. “Dull.”
I turned to him sharply. “Excuse me?”
“Dull,” he repeated calmly. “And not work-tired.”
I let out a short breath. “Harley, mind your—”
“—business?” he finished for me, not defensive. “I know. And usually, I do. But I’ve been watching you long enough to know this isn’t just lack of sleep.”
I straightened in my chair. “I’m fine, Harley.”
He met my gaze evenly. Not pushing, but not backing down either. “No,” he said quietly. “You’re not.”
The words landed too precisely. Too close to something I wasn’t ready to name, not even to myself. I forced my expression to stay neutral. “I appreciate the concern,” I said. “I just don’t want to talk about it.”
“I know,” he nodded. “And I’m not asking it to be. I’m just saying... it shows.”
A pause followed.
“I’m going to get coffee,” he said at last, stepping back. “I’ll grab one for you too. Whether you drink it or not is up to you.”
Before I could refuse, he had already turned and walked away.
I exhaled slowly, my thoughts drifting to Adrian—to the distance he’d put between us after our argument—and to the subtle, undeniable shift in Harley’s behavior lately. But I didn’t need more complications, I just needed rest.
Time kept moving, even though it didn’t feel like it.
One report finished. Then another. A brief wrap-up meeting. A handful of emails answered on autopilot. I couldn’t remember when morning slipped into noon, or when Jessica appeared beside my desk again.
“Elena,” she said softly. “Lunch.”
I looked up, slightly startled, then checked the time on my screen. It was past twelve.
“Oh,” I murmured. “Okay.”
We left without much conversation. For once, Jessica didn’t force small talk. We sat across from each other at a place near the office, ordered, and ate in silence. The clink of cutlery against plates, the shifting ice in our glasses—everything sounded louder than it should have.
I finished my meal without really tasting it. When my plate was empty, I stayed where I was, absently stirring the straw in my drink, watching the ice slowly melt.
Jessica watched me from across the table for a long moment. “Okay,” she said finally. “Now you talk.”
I let out a slow breath. “I’m tired, Jess.”
She didn’t interrupt.
“I’m tired of everything,” I continued. “I don’t know what Adrian wants anymore. And honestly... I don’t even know what I want.”
I went quiet for a moment.
“Lately, he’s been... possessive. Unreasonably so. He even gets jealous of Harley. And now... he’s not even talking to me at all.” I continued.
Jessica didn’t react right away. She only nodded slowly, as if arranging her thoughts.
“Contextually,” she said carefully, “his reaction is understandable. After everything that happened back then.”
She lifted one shoulder slightly. “But that doesn’t make him right. Or healthy. He’s just afraid of losing you—because, honestly... I think he already has.”
I stared at the ice in my glass, waiting for the words to stop spinning.
Jessica leaned forward slightly. “Can I say something without you immediately feeling like you need to defend yourself?” she asked gently.
I gave a small nod.
“This isn’t really about Adrian,” she said softly. “Right now, it’s about you.”
My fingers stilled around the glass.
“You’re pulling away,” she continued. “I can see it, Elena. You’ve changed. And not just with Adrian—you’ve closed yourself off from everyone.”
She took a short breath. “And this isn’t healthy. This isn’t survival. This is self-punishment.”
I lowered my gaze. “I’m still functioning,” I said quietly. “I’m still working. Taking care of Haille. Living my life. That’s what matters, right?”
Jessica nodded slowly. “I know. And that’s exactly why I’m worried.”
She looked straight at me. “Because you’re not living, Elena. You’ve learned how to live inside pain until it feels normal. Familiar.”
My chest tightened.
“And maybe,” she added more softly, “a part of you chooses that. Because as long as you stay there, you don’t have to hope for anything.”
I stirred the straw again, slower this time. “Hope just hurts more.”
Jessica nodded once. “Yeah.”
“You don’t want therapy,” she continued, without judgment. “And that’s your right. But you’re also not giving yourself any space to breathe.”
She paused.
“When was the last time you actually rested, Elena?”
I frowned, trying to remember. My mind came up blank.
Jessica let out a quiet scoff. “There. That’s your answer.”
Her voice softened. “Maybe you don’t need answers right now. Or big decisions.”
She met my gaze steadily. “Maybe you just need rest. Not to run away... but to stop for a moment.”
I stared at the ice in my glass until it melted completely.
Rest.
The word sounded simple. But it felt like something I hadn’t allowed myself in a very long time.