I nodded, and he outstretched his hand behind my head, urging me to cuddle into him. During the four months, we slept in the same bed twice. Both times, for reasons I couldn’t understand, I slept like a baby.
CHAPTER 8
NADIA
Visual aids
Nicholas wasn’t pleased when I called with Adrian’s match result instead of facetiming him the event. Adrian won, but he didn’t come back home unscratched. My stomach sank at the sight of his bruised face, worry twisting my insides.
“I want to talk to you.”
He crossed the room and crouched on the floor in front of the couch, resting his head on my knees, hugging my thighs. He reached for my hand and placed it on his head, silently asking me to play with his short hair. It soothed him when he felt distressed, but almost a year had gone by without him seeking that kind of comfort.
My chest squeezed painfully, but I didn’t dare speak first. Adrian was trembling, the hold he had on me felt desperate.
Whatever was going through his head filled the room with a heavy atmosphere that I could only compare to the way the church felt at my father’s funeral—grim, sad and filled with despair.
Minutes passed with Adrian holding onto me for dear life before he lifted his head just enough to look at me.
“I’m letting you go, puppet,” he breathed, his eyes full of tears. “You’re worth so much more than what I can give you on my best day…”
The first tear rolled down his cheek, and my mind drew a blank. I couldn’t say a single word. I couldn’t decide if I was happy that he understood we couldn’t be together or if I was mourning the end of us.
“I love you,” he said, raising to his feet just enough to sit beside me. “You willalwaysbe my everything, puppet, but you shouldn’t be with me. I don’t trust myself yet. I won’t risk hurting you if things go south.”
I caught his hand, but changed my mind just as fast, and climbed onto his knees, cupping his face.
“You will be okay. You’re amazing, Adrian, and you are so strong. I believe in you. I know the worst is behind you.”
He gritted his teeth when I wiped his tears with my thumbs.
“Promise me you’ll stay safe. Promise you’ll take care of yourself, puppet. Promise you won’t let some asshole drag you down.”
I nodded, resting my forehead against his. “I’m proud of you.”
“Can I kiss you?” he whispered, digging his fingers into my thighs. “One last time, puppet. Please.”
Our lips connected for an affectionate, desperate goodbye kiss. Adrian weaved his fingers through my hair, holding me close, tasting me over and over again, his lips soft and restless, the touch of his hands on my body cautious but firm.
He brushed his fingers down my spine, and closed my lips, sealing the kiss, our relationship, all the promises and memories.
“I love you,” he said again, the force in his quiet voice comparable to the bomb that hit Hiroshima. “Always have, always will, puppet.”
One last kiss on my forehead, and then, without another word or glance my way, he got up, placed a plane ticket on the table, crossed the room, and closed the apartment door behind him with a quiet click.
I sat motionless, my heart aching for two different reasons, my mind split in half—one half was grateful, the other one was hurting.
***
I wheeled my suitcase into the living room when I finished packing late on Sunday evening. I rested it against the wall, ready for the morning flight and moved to the kitchen to get a bottle of water out of the fridge.
Every few minutes, I glanced at the door, hoping to see Adrian walk through them to say goodbye, but it had been twenty-four hours since he left the apartment, and neither I nor Ty heard from him.
A soft knock on the door had me pull my eyebrows together. I wasn’t expecting anyone, at least not someone who would be required to knock. I pulled on the door handle, slipping on my best fake smile.
It faded quickly.
Blood drained from my face as a tornado of thoughts wreaked havoc in my mind. Adrian stood in the corridor, Omega frat hoodie on his back, pupils dilated.