The Last Night

Elena closed the front door behind her and stood completely still.

For several seconds, she simply listened.

Silence.

No footsteps.

No voice calling her name.

No Adrian asking where she was going.

Nothing.

She had spent three years dreaming about this moment.

Leaving.

Being free.

Starting over.

So why did it feel like the hardest thing she had ever done?

She placed her suitcase beside the wall and slowly looked around the apartment.

Their apartment.

The word felt strange now.

Everything was exactly as she had left it that morning.

The white sofa Adrian had chosen.

The enormous painting above the fireplace.

The crystal glasses they had received as a wedding gift.

Even the flowers on the dining table were still fresh.

It was as though the apartment had not yet realized their marriage was over.

Elena walked toward the bedroom.

Her bedroom.

No.

Their bedroom.

She stopped herself.

Not anymore.

She opened the wardrobe and began taking out her clothes.

One dress.

Then another.

A sweater.

A pair of shoes.

She placed everything carefully into her suitcase.

She refused to rush.

If she rushed, she knew she would cry again.

And she was tired of crying.

She opened the second drawer.

Inside were photographs.

She picked up the first one.

Their wedding day.

Elena smiled sadly.

She remembered that day so clearly.

The white flowers.

The enormous church.

The hundreds of guests.

The cameras.

And Adrian standing beside her.

He had looked incredibly handsome.

She had been nervous.

Her hands had trembled when she placed the ring on his finger.

When the priest had announced them husband and wife, she had looked at Adrian and believed she had just become the luckiest woman alive.

She had been wrong.

Or perhaps she had simply been too young to understand that marriage alone could not create love.

Elena placed the photograph on the bed.

Then she picked up another.

Their first Christmas together.

Another.

Their first anniversary.

Another.

A dinner they had shared at a restaurant overlooking the ocean.

She remembered that evening.

She had spent hours choosing her dress.

Adrian had arrived almost two hours late.

He had apologized.

She had smiled and told him it was fine.

She had lied.

She had spent most of the evening watching him answer business calls.

At the time, she had thought that was what loving a powerful man required.

Patience.

Understanding.

Sacrifice.

Now she understood something else.

Love was supposed to be mutual.

She closed the drawer.

A sound came from the front door.

Elena froze.

Her heart began beating faster.

She knew that sound.

Adrian was home.

She looked at the clock.

Almost midnight.

He had never cared about coming home early.

Why tonight?

She wiped her eyes and continued packing.

A few seconds later, footsteps approached the bedroom.

The door opened.

Adrian stood there.

He had removed his suit jacket and loosened his tie.

His expression was tired.

He looked at the open suitcase.

Then at Elena.

“You're leaving tonight?”

Elena didn't turn around.

“Yes.”

“Where are you going?”

“Somewhere else.”

“That's not an answer.”

She folded a blouse.

“It doesn't matter.”

Adrian walked farther into the room.

“Elena.”

She finally looked at him.

“What?”

“About the divorce…”

“What about it?”

“I think we should wait before making any arrangements.”

She stared at him.

“You already signed.”

“So did you.”

“Exactly.”

He looked away.

For the first time that evening, Elena noticed something unusual.

He seemed uncomfortable.

“Why are you suddenly concerned?”

“I just think we should talk when we're both calmer.”

She gave a quiet laugh.

“We've had three years to talk.”

“That isn't fair.”

“Fair?”

Elena turned toward him.

“You want to talk about fair?”

Adrian remained silent.

“I waited for you,” she continued. “I waited for you to come home. I waited for you to notice me. I waited for you to treat me like your wife.”

Her voice began to crack.

“And now that I'm finally leaving, you suddenly want to talk?”

Adrian's expression hardened.

“I never asked you to wait.”

The words hit her like a slap.

Elena stared at him.

Then she nodded slowly.

“You're right.”

She closed her suitcase.

“You never did.”

She pulled the zipper shut.

Adrian watched her.

“You don't have to leave tonight.”

“Yes, I do.”

“Why?”

“Because if I stay here one more night, I'll start hoping again.”

He said nothing.

Elena picked up her suitcase.

She walked toward the door.

As she passed him, Adrian suddenly caught her wrist.

She stopped.

His hand was warm.

Familiar.

For three years, she had dreamed of him reaching for her.

Now that he finally did, she didn't feel happy.

She felt afraid.

“Let go,” she whispered.

Adrian released her immediately.

Neither of them spoke.

Elena looked at his hand.

Then at his face.

“Don't do that again.”

His eyebrows drew together.

“Do what?”

“Give me hope.”

Adrian's expression changed.

“Elena…”

She shook her head.

“I can't survive another three years like this.”

She walked out of the bedroom.

Adrian followed her.

“Elena, wait.”

She stopped near the entrance.

He stood several feet behind her.

“What?”

He seemed to struggle with his next words.

“I never wanted things to become like this.”

She looked at him.

“Neither did I.”

“I didn't hate being married to you.”

Elena's heart tightened.

“That isn't the same as loving me.”

He didn't answer.

She opened the front door.

Then Adrian spoke again.

“Will I ever see you again?”

Elena froze.

The question surprised her.

She turned slowly.

“I don't know.”

Then she stepped outside.

The door closed between them.

For several seconds, Adrian remained motionless.

He stared at the closed door.

Something inside him felt wrong.

He had expected relief.

Instead, there was an emptiness he couldn't explain.

He walked toward the window.

Elena's car was still parked downstairs.

He watched as she placed her suitcase in the trunk.

She got inside.

The engine started.

The car disappeared into the night.

Adrian stood there long after the taillights vanished.

His phone rang.

He answered without looking at the screen.

“Yes?”

His assistant spoke.

“Sir, there's something you should know.”

“What?”

“We received a call from the clinic.”

Adrian's expression changed.

“What clinic?”

The assistant hesitated.

“The private medical center where Mrs. Blackwood went this afternoon.”

Adrian straightened.

“Why would they call us?”

“They said there was a problem with the billing information.”

Adrian frowned.

“What kind of medical appointment did she have?”

“I don't know, sir.”

“Find out.”

“Yes, sir.”

The call ended.

Adrian remained by the window.

For the first time that night, a strange feeling settled over him.

Something wasn't right.

Meanwhile, Elena drove through the sleeping city with both hands tightly gripping the steering wheel.

She could still feel Adrian's hand around her wrist.

She hated that it had affected her.

She hated that part of her still wanted him.

Then she remembered the divorce papers.

The other woman.

His cold voice.

Our marriage isn't working.

Elena wiped away another tear.

“No more.”

She looked down briefly at the small envelope resting on the passenger seat.

Her medical report was inside.

She placed one hand over it.

Then over her stomach.

“I'm sorry, baby.”

Her voice trembled.

“Your father doesn't know about you.”

The traffic light ahead turned red.

Elena stopped.

For a moment, she stared at her reflection in the windshield.

A woman alone.

A woman who had just lost her marriage.

A woman who had no idea what tomorrow would bring.

But she knew what she had to do.

She would leave the city.

She would start again.

And Adrian Blackwood would never know that his child was growing inside her.

At least, that was what she believed.

Because somewhere behind her, a black car had been following her for the last ten minutes.

And the person inside already knew her secret.