CHAPTER 38
Adrian
Abu Dhabi was still dark when my alarm rang.
Seven-hour difference.
I swung my legs off the mattress and stood up without hesitation, like my body had learned this routine the way it learned survival.
Because I wasn’t waking up for work. I was waking up for my daughter and her.
The time difference was brutal. When it was five in the morning here, it was seven in the evening back home.
That narrow stretch of time before her eyes went heavy, before she turned clingy, before she demanded one more story, one more kiss, one more minute of being a child who didn’t understand why Daddy lived across oceans.
I showered quick, threw on a plain T-shirt, made coffee I wouldn’t finish, then opened my laptop at the desk. The room was quiet. The city outside barely awake.
05:58.
I waited.
At 06:00 sharp, I called.
The screen connected and, as always, Elena appeared first—hair tied back, wearing something casual, adjusting the camera angle like she’d done it a hundred times already.
“Wait,” she said simply, then called out, “Haille. Daddy.”
Two seconds later, Haille climbed into frame like a missile.
“DADDYYYY!”
My chest loosened.
“Hey, bug,” I said, voice low. “How was your day?”
“FUN!” she yelled, then immediately started listing everything she did at daycare—she even started dropping names that were already familiar to my ears, because apparently she had favorite friends there—then snack time, running outside, and something about a worm she found in the dirt.
“A worm, Daddy,” she clarified proudly, like she’d discovered gold.
I lifted a brow. “You touched it?”
“Yes!” she said, louder. “It’s like... squishy. And long.”
Elena, off to the side, let out a tired laugh. “She tried to bring it home.”
My gaze snapped up. “She what?”
Elena shrugged like it was normal. “In her pocket.”
I exhaled slowly, staring at my daughter like she was a small, fearless menace. “Bug... worms don’t belong in pockets.”
Haille pouted. “But I wanna show you.”
My mouth twitched despite myself. “Okay,” I said, voice low but amused. “Next time, show me with your words. Not... your pockets.”
Elena stayed off to the side the whole time. Like she was letting me have my time without stepping into the middle. She stayed nearby because Haille still needed help with the laptop, and because a toddler couldn’t be trusted to sit still for ten minutes without turning the screen upside down.
At first, it was always like that. Haille and me. Elena just... there.
I didn’t push. After everything, I didn’t get to demand warmth. I didn’t get to ask for closeness. What I got... I earned.
Halfway through the call, Haille started yawning.
“Slide...” she mumbled out of nowhere, then blinked slow.
“Okay,” Elena sighed. “She’s done.”
Haille dropped her head onto the table like her body shut down and Elena lifted her smoothly, one arm supporting her back.
I watched her for a second.
“Elena,” I said before she walked away.
She paused.
“Don’t rush.”
She nodded once, then carried Haille out of frame. I assumed she’d end the call. She didn’t.
A few minutes passed before she came back, quiet. She glanced at the screen and stopped. “...I forgot to end it.”
She reached for the laptop—then hesitated.
So did I. Neither of us moved for a second too long.
“How’s she?” I asked, meaning Haille.
“Asleep,” Elena replied, sounding amused. “She was full of energy all day.”
“Of course she was.” My mouth curved. “She’s yours.”
Elena’s lips twitched slightly. “She’s yours too.”
I let out a small breath that might’ve been a laugh. “Yeah.”
That actually got a short smile out of her.
“How’s work?” I asked, starting the conversation.
“Busy,” she said, like it was the most obvious thing in the world. “As usual.”
I nodded, leaning back in my chair. “Sounds about right.”
Then she added, almost casually, “But it’s been manageable. Sloane has been really helpful—quick, and picks things up fast.”
That caught my attention.
“Who’s Sloane? I don’t think I’ve heard that name before,” I asked.
“Oh—right, you wouldn’t know. Harley resigned. Not long after I got back from Florida.”
I didn’t say anything for a moment. There was a time when I would’ve reacted differently—would’ve latched onto that name like it meant something. Now it just… didn’t.
“He resigned?” I asked.
Elena nodded. “Yeah. Went back to his family’s company.”
“Oh,” I said finally. “Okay.”
A beat.
She tilted her head slightly. “So… how’s Abu Dhabi?”
I exhaled, rubbing a hand over my jaw. “Hectic.”
“Bad hectic?”
“Board-level hectic,” I said, grinning slightly.
Elena’s brows rose. “Sounds lovely.”
A faint huff of laughter left me. “The schedule’s already critical. The handover might get pushed back, and there’s a risk of liquidated damages. I have to step in and deal with the owner directly.”
She stayed quiet for a second, absorbing that. “So basically,” she said slowly, “you’re there to stop it from turning into a mess.”
“Exactly,” I said. “Before it becomes expensive.”
Elena’s lips twitched faintly. “So how are things over there now?”
“It’s manageable,” I replied. “We can still catch up in a few areas that are behind. And even if there’s a delay of a day or two, the penalties can still be negotiated down, or even waived.”
I watched her shift the laptop slightly, like she was settling in, like she wasn’t in a hurry to end this. Then she said, almost matter-of-factly, “Honestly, whenever you step in personally, things always get handled.”
A quiet satisfaction curled in my chest. I didn’t smile fully—just a small, instinctive smirk I couldn’t quite stop, the kind that lasted only a second before I swallowed it down like it meant nothing.
We fell quiet again. On the screen, Elena didn’t shift away. Her gaze lingered on me a second too long.
Then she cleared her throat lightly, like she was pulling herself back into the moment. “How long are your days?” she asked.
I glanced at the clock on my bedside table without meaning to. “Long.”
“How long?” she repeated.
I leaned back in my chair, crossing one ankle over my knee. “About the same. Meetings at nine. Site until late afternoon. Then paperwork, revisions, calls. I’m usually back at the hotel around seven.”
Elena blinked. “Seven.”
I shrugged. “Sometimes later.”
“And you still wake up at five every day just to call Haille?”
I didn’t answer immediately. Because the truth was—yes, I did. “I wouldn’t miss it,” I said simply.
Elena’s eyes softened, but she didn’t comment on it. She only asked, “Do you ever go out there? Sightseeing? Anything?”
I let out a low breath, half amused. “You think I flew here for a vacation?”
“I’m just asking,” she said, a hint of a pout in her voice.
“Only on the weekends,” I admitted. “I get out sometimes. Walk around a bit. But you know me—I’m not exactly the exploring type on my own.”
Elena huffed softly. “You’re just lazy, that’s all. It could actually be fun, you know—getting out, seeing the place.”
“You could come here,” I said, before I could stop myself.
She didn’t react to that. Not directly. But I caught the subtle shift in her expression. “Don’t overwork yourself, okay?” she said instead. “You tend to forget to eat when you get busy.”
It caught me off guard, because it felt like before, back when everything between us had still been easy, and for some reason, that made my throat tighten. “I don’t skip,” I lied.
Her eyes narrowed. “Uh-huh.”
I looked away for half a second. “Sometimes.”
“Exactly.” Her voice softened, but it didn’t lose its firmness. “I know how you are when you’re busy. You’ll run on coffee and ego until your body forces you to stop.”
I let out a quiet, reluctant laugh. “Ego?”
“Yes. Ego.”
My mouth curved faintly despite myself. “Noted.” Then I cleared my throat, grounding myself. “Thanks,” I said quietly. “For reminding me.”
She blinked, like she hadn’t expected that. Then her expression shifted—small, almost imperceptible. “Yeah,” she murmured. “Whatever.”
I almost smiled.
“I should go,” she said after a moment.
I nodded. “Yeah. Get some rest.”
She hesitated, then said, “You too.”
The call ended, and the screen went black in my palm. I stared at it for a moment before checking the time.
06:24.
The room was quiet, but for once it didn’t feel suffocating. It felt calm.
Maybe, slowly, we were learning how to speak again, not as husband and wife, but as two people who could still be a safe place for each other when the world got too heavy.
I still wanted her back. But wanting her didn’t give me the right to reach. Not yet.
I took a sip of coffee and grimaced when I realized it had already gone cold, then set the mug down and pushed myself to my feet.
Time to work.