CHAPTER 40 #2
The call connected.
And there he was.
Adrian’s face filled the screen. His hair slightly damp, a plain T-shirt clinging to his shoulders, dark eyes already awake in that unmistakable way that made it obvious he’d been up before the city around him.
The background behind him was unfamiliar but consistent: hotel room lighting, bland walls, the faint outline of a desk lamp.
But the look on his face wasn’t bland at all.
The moment he saw Haille, something in his expression loosened like it always did.
“Hey, bug,” he murmured, voice low and warm. “There you are.”
Haille practically climbed onto the keyboard. “DADDYYYYY!”
I caught her before she could shove her entire face into the screen and pulled her back into her chair, already used to the routine, already knowing that video calls were less like conversations and more like controlled chaos.
“You’re going to knock it over,” I said dryly.
Haille ignored me completely, eyes locked onto the screen like the world was only him.
“Daddy, I took bath,” she announced.
Adrian’s mouth curved. “Yeah? You smell good from here.”
I snorted quietly into my mug.
Adrian’s gaze flicked. Not fully toward me, but enough to acknowledge I existed nearby.
“How’s today?” he asked.
Before I could answer, Haille bounced in her chair like she was about to deliver breaking news.
“It’s Mommy’s birthdaaaayyyy!” she shouted, completely delighted with herself, like she’d just been promoted.
Adrian’s eyes softened instantly. “Oh yeah?” he said, leaning in as if this was the most important update he’d gotten all day. “What did you do for Mommy’s birthday?”
“Yes!” Haille said, nodding so hard her curls bounced. “We go eat. Food yummy.”
“What did you eat?” Adrian asked, amused.
“I eat bread and sausage,” she said proudly. “Finish.”
She launched into her report like she was presenting it to the board—what she ordered, what Mommy ordered, how Mommy’s food was ‘big’ how the dessert had a crunchy top that made a crack sound, and how Mommy laughed a lot.
And I watched them—watched how Adrian listened like every single detail mattered, like her toddler nonsense was the only thing worth focusing on in a foreign country across oceans.
I was still watching when I noticed Haille’s words starting to drag, her eyelids heavy, yawns swallowing the end of her sentences.
“That’s my cue,” I murmured, standing.
Adrian’s eyes lifted to her immediately. “Sleepy, bug?” he asked gently.
Haille nodded weakly, already halfway gone.
“Running out of battery,” I said, amused.
I stepped closer to the laptop, scooped Haille up easily, and she slumped against my shoulder without protest—the kind of exhaustion only children could reach in seconds. Her arms looped around my neck automatically.
“I’ll take her upstairs,” I told Adrian quietly.
“Alright,” he said softly. “I’ll wait.”
I went upstairs, tucked her into bed, kissed her forehead, stayed for a moment to make sure her breathing evened out, then I went back down.
The kitchen was the same as I’d left it, only quieter now.
I picked up my mug and sat in front of the laptop. Adrian was looking at his phone, thumb scrolling, before he realized I was back.
He set it down immediately. “Sorry,” he said. “I was checking emails.”
“It’s fine,” I replied easily, taking a sip of coffee. “No problem.”
“So,” Adrian said after a beat, his voice casual but attentive, “where did you guys go today?”
“Maison Margaux.”
His eyebrows lifted, something like nostalgia flickering across his face. “Oh… we haven’t been there in a long time.”
We. The word landed softly, quieter than it should have.
“Yeah,” I said just as quietly. “It’s been a while.”
He cleared his throat lightly, like he had to steady himself. “Happy birthday, Elena,” he said.
I blinked, like I’d forgotten my own birthday for a second. “Thank you,” I answered softly.
His gaze held mine through the screen. “I hope it was a good day,” he added.
“It was,” I said honestly. “I had a pretty special date.”
A warm smile tugged at his mouth. “Of course you did.”
My eyes drifted to the corner of the table, the bouquet still resting in its wrapping. “Thank you,” I said quietly. “For the gift.”
He paused—just a fraction of a second—like he was bracing for rejection even now. Then he offered a faint smile. “I hope you like it.”
“I loved the flowers,” I admitted. “They’re perfect.”
I hesitated, my fingers tightening around the mug as I tried to find the right words. “But… the bracelet…” I exhaled softly. “That’s too much, Adrian.”
He went still, like he was holding something back instead of reacting. For a moment, he didn’t say anything, and then his mouth shifted slightly, as if he was deciding whether or not to smile.
“It’s not,” he said at last.
“It is,” I insisted, a little more firmly this time, helplessly practical even as something in my chest tightened. “Flowers are fine. But the bracelet—”
“It’s from Haille,” he cut in.
I blinked, thrown off balance so quickly it took me a second to catch up. “What?”
Adrian’s mouth curved, just a little, like he couldn’t quite help it, like he’d been waiting for this exact moment. “It’s from Haille.”
I stared at him, certain for a second that he’d lost his mind. “Adrian,” I said slowly, trying to keep my voice even, “she’s three.”
“She has taste,” he replied easily. “She picked it.”
“You’re joking.”
“I’m not.” He leaned in slightly, his voice lowering just enough to pull me in with it. “When she was with Avery, I asked her to choose a present for you. Avery showed her pictures, and that’s the one she chose.”
I let out a disbelieving laugh, shaking my head as I narrowed my eyes at him. “Yeah, right. Of course she picked it.”
He didn’t hesitate. “Yes.”
“You’re lying.”
“She pointed at it and told Avery, ‘This one pretty.’” His voice softened, a hint of quiet amusement slipping through. “So I listened.”
Something flickered in my chest then—warmth and ache colliding into one quiet, unfamiliar feeling I didn’t quite know how to name.
“But…” I started, hesitating, the word coming out smaller than I intended, edged with something uncertain.
Adrian didn’t interrupt. His gaze stayed on me through the screen, steady and careful, not pushing, not demanding—just there. “If you don’t want it, we can return it. No questions,” he said quietly after a moment. “But… I hope you’ll accept it.”
My breath slipped out in a slow exhale. I looked down at the table for a second, grounding myself, before lifting my gaze back to him. “Thank you,” I said quietly, because suddenly I didn’t trust myself to say anything more without revealing too much.
Adrian didn’t smile widely or act like he’d won something, but something in his expression eased anyway, subtle and unguarded, like he’d been holding his breath longer than I’d realized.
And for a brief second, I saw it—the truth behind all of this. The flowers weren’t a claim. The bracelet wasn’t a trap. It was just him.
He shifted slightly, like he was about to say something else. “By the way,” he began, “I’m coming back next Wednesday.”
“Oh.” I kept my voice steady. “You’re done over there?”
“Yeah.” He nodded. “It’s stable enough to leave. At least the critical points are handled.”
“Good,” I said, and meant it.
He didn’t continue right away. The words seemed to linger somewhere behind his expression, like he was weighing them, deciding whether he had the right to ask. I noticed it then—the hesitation, subtle but there—and something in me stilled, waiting.
“I was going to ask…” he said finally, the words coming slower now, like he had to push past something to get them out. “…would it be okay if Haille picked me up?”
He added quickly, as if softening it before it could sound like too much. “Avery can bring her. I just…” His throat bobbed. “I miss her.”
The image came to me instantly—Haille at the airport, spotting him, running into his arms, squealing the way she always did. It would make her happy. It would make him happy.
I could have said yes, but something in me resisted at the thought of not being there, of missing that moment entirely.
Instead, I said, “No.”
Adrian blinked, shock flickering across his face so quickly it almost made me regret it. Before he could respond, I added, steady and clear, “I’ll bring her.”
His entire expression shifted. It wasn’t dramatic, but it was immediate—like something inside him had loosened, something held too tight for too long finally giving way.
“You will?” he asked carefully, like he didn’t quite trust what he’d heard.
“Yes,” I replied simply.
His voice softened. “Elena… are you sure? You have work.”
I held his gaze for a moment. “What time does the plane land?”
He swallowed. “Around five.”
I nodded once. “Okay.”
His brows furrowed slightly, confusion slipping through at how easily I agreed.
So I smiled, small, almost amused. “I’ll leave work early,” I said. “I’ll check with Thomas.”
Adrian’s expression softened again, quieter this time, and something in my chest shifted with it. “Alright,” he said. “If you don’t mind…” He paused, then added more softly, “That means a lot to me.”
“I know,” I said, almost under my breath, before straightening slightly. “Just send me your flight details.”
Adrian looked at me like he was trying to understand whether this was real. Then he nodded, slow and certain. “Of course. I will.”
“Okay.”
Silence settled between us again. And this time, it didn’t feel empty.
It felt… full. Heavy with something neither of us said out loud.
I didn’t know what the future looked like.
But talking to Adrian like this—night after night, over months—had changed something in me without asking for permission.
It had made him safe again.
Not the old kind of safe. Not the kind built on vows and certainty, but something different—the kind that existed because we had already lost everything once… and still managed to treat each other gently through the ruins.
When he said he was coming home next Wednesday, it landed right there, in that place in my chest that had never quite stopped loving him. I realized then, with a kind of quiet, ruthless honesty, that I still didn’t know what we would become. But I knew what I wanted.
I wanted to be the place he came home to.