LOGINIf I had known that Sunday brunch with my family would feel like a full-blown interrogation, I might have faked a fever. Or a trip to Mars.
But my mother’s text was as impossible to ignore as always: Mom: “You and your husband must come over this weekend. Everyone’s is excited to meet him!” Me: “Everyone?” Mom: “Yes. And you don't have any reason to say no, you shouldn't even try to.” So now, I was sitting at my parents’ dining table, the same one that had seen countless Sunday roasts, birthday cakes, and awkward silences, watching my mother slice roast chicken like she was dissecting my life choices. Adrian slid into the chair beside me, calm as ever. His posture was unnervingly straight with his shirt neat and sleeves rolled just so... Every movement made was measured He looked like he’d stepped out of an expensive magazine and into my family’s chaos. “So,” my mother said, setting down her knife with a delicate clink, “tell us about yourself, Adrian.” Adrian smiled politely, the kind of smile that didn’t reveal much. “There isn’t much to tell, Mrs. Hart. I manage a few business ventures, mostly property and finance.” “A few?” my brother Mark snorted. “I I looked you up online. You’re on Forbes, apparently.” I froze. “You what?” Mark shrugged. “What? The internet exists. I just wanted to make sure our dear sister didn’t marry some… internet mystery.” My mother gasped. “Mark!” But Adrian only chuckled softly, unfazed. “That’s fair. Background checks are important.” The man had charm armor — polished, unbreakable, dangerous. Then came my aunt Clara. The self-proclaimed keeper of every rumor within a ten-mile radius. “So, Adrian,” she said, leaning forward, lowering her tone in a way that meant she wanted everyone to hear,. “I heard your company was in the news last year. Something about a woman…?” My fork froze halfway to my mouth. Damn it and here we go. Adrian’s smile didn’t waver. “Rumors follow everyone, Mrs. Clara. Not every story deserves a second thought.” He said it lightly, but the edge of control in his tone made it clear he’d been through worse. “Oh, but this one was interesting,” she persisted. “They said you were engaged once to someone from a very powerful family.” My heart thudded. I glanced at him. Adrian met my gaze for the briefest second, then smiled, smooth and polite. “Ah. That. It was a misunderstanding that the media exaggerated.” “A misunderstanding that involved an engagement ring?” Mark muttered. I kicked him under the table. Adrian noticed but didn’t comment. Instead, he reached for his glass of water, his composure maintained. My mother sighed dreamily. “Well, whether or not it’s true, I’m just glad you’re married to our Elena now. She’s been through enough.” That made me choke on air. “MOM!” “What?” she said innocently. “After that last boyfriend—” “MOM!” Too late. My entire love life was officially public knowledge. Adrian’s brow lifted just slightly, amused. “Ex-boyfriend?” he asked quietly when no one was listening. I groaned. “Please don’t ask.” “I won’t,” he said simply and somehow that made me want to tell him even more. Halfway through dessert, I excused myself to grab something from the kitchen. When I came back, I heard my aunt’s voice, lowered but not enough. “She’s lucky, really. After everything she went through with that cheating bastard, she landed herself a Kingsley. I still can’t believe it.” “She didn’t even know who he was,” Mark whispered. “The marriage was… kind of impulsive.” “Oh, she knows now. And if she’s smart, she’ll hold onto him tight. Men like that don’t stay single long.” I lingered by the doorway, my heart racing. That tone used was deeper than the words it was said with, Like I’d won a prize, not a person, like my marriage was some kind of accident I should be grateful for. Adrian’s voice broke through the murmurs, smooth but firm. “Actually,” he said, “I think....I was the lucky one.” The table fell silent. When I stepped in, his eyes met mine. There was warmth there ; soft, steady, utterly disarming. And for one dizzying second, the gossip didn’t matter. None of it did, atleast for the moment I wanted to live in. The drive back was quiet. The city lights flickered across Adrian’s face as he drove focused, unreadable, just too beautiful for my sanity. “Sorry about my family,” I said finally. “They can be… intrusive.” “I didn’t mind.” He glanced at me. “You defended me more than once. That’s rare.” “I wasn’t defending you,” I muttered. “Just saving them from your lawyer-level sarcasm.” His lips curved slightly. “So, you do notice my sarcasm.” “Hard not to.” He chuckled softly, then his tone shifted ; deeper, more introspective. He exhaled softly. “Families… they have their own kind of chaos, don’t they?” “Yours too?” A brief pause. “Worse.” I wanted to ask, but his expression changed slightly and i could guess he was thinking about them, I let it go. The silence that followed wasn’t uncomfortable. It was… familiar like we were both carrying ghosts we didn’t have names for yet. When we arrived at the penthouse, he turned to me before I stepped out. “Elena.” I looked up. “Yeah?” He hesitated just for a heartbeat. Then: “Next time your family invites us, tell them I’ll bring dessert.” I blinked. “That’s it?” A faint smile ghosted across his lips. “You expected something else?” That was quite a tease, I didn’t answer. Because what I had expected… was a kiss , shocking right? I know that myself. And that realization scared me more than my mother’s gossip ever could.Morning came softly.Pale sunlight slipped through the sheer curtains and settling across the bedroom floor like it belonged there.I woke slowly, wrapped in that hazy in-between state where thoughts hadn’t fully formed yet. The bed was warm. Too warm on the other side.Adrian.The memory of last night stirred, his eyes were tired, his carefully selected words and the unspoken agreement between us holding with thin lines. I turned slightly.He was already awake.This is like the first time we will be in bed at the same time guess a new agreement to a new change.Lying on his back, one arm bent beneath his head, staring at the ceiling like it had personally offended him.“You’re thinking too loudly,” I murmured.His head turned toward me, startled. “Was I?”“Yes,” I said seriously. “I could hear the brooding.”A beat.His lips twitched astonishingly, just once but that is progress.We didn’t talk much while getting ready. Not in an uncomfortable way, more like we were both handling it
The house felt too quiet without Adrian.The kind that made every sound echo louder than it should. The hum of the refrigerator. The tick of the clock. Even my own thoughts seemed intrusive.I checked my phone for the third time in ten minutes.Nothing.I told myself not to read into it. He’d said it was an obligation. Something old. Still, the absence pressed against my chest in a way I didn’t like.That was when the doorbell rang.I frowned.Mrs. Patel answered it before I could, her polite greeting drifting down the hallway. A second later, unfamiliar voices followed. warm, confident, unmistakably related to the man currently occupying too much space in my head.“Elena, dear!”I barely had time to brace myself before a woman walked into the living room like she owned it.She was elegant in a composed, effortless way, pearl earrings, tailored dress, eyes sharp but curious. Behind her stood a tall man with Adrian’s posture and eyes, just softer around the edges. And trailing them, a
Sleep did not come easily that night.Every time I closed my eyes, I saw the painting again, the woman by the sea, her face turned away, forever just out of reach. And then Adrian’s voice layered over it, quiet and weighted.If you knew… you might not look at me the same.I lay on my side, staring at the faint outline of the city beyond the curtains, wondering what kind of truth could do that. What kind of past could make a man so careful with every step he took toward me.By morning, I had decided something dangerous.I wouldn’t push.But I wouldn’t look away either.Adrian was already at the breakfast table when I came down, reading something on his tablet. He looked up when he heard me, and for a split second, his expression softened, like he’d been waiting.“Good morning,” he said.“Morning.”It felt… easier than yesterday. Not light, exactly, but less brittle. Like we’d both silently agreed not to pretend nothing was wrong.Mrs. Patel set down breakfast and retreated discreetly.
Curiosity, I learned, was a quiet thing. It settled there in your mind, soft, persistent—whispering questions when the world went silent. After that night in the kitchen, after the almost-touch and the not-quite-confession, curiosity became my shadow. I tried to act normal the next morning. I really did. I showered, got dressed, even sat at the breakfast table with a book open in front of me like a functional adult. The staff moved around us as usual, discreet and polite. Mrs. Patel gave me a knowing look that made my ears burn. Adrian arrived late. He looked composed, as always; tqilored shirt, calm expression, hair perfectly in place. If anyone had seen him, they’d think he’d slept like a king. I knew better. “Good morning,” he said, voice steady. “Morning,” I replied, equally careful. We sat. We ate. We talked about nothing. Nothing except the way his eyes avoided mine just a little too deliberately. Nothing except the way his hand tightened around his c
I told myself a lot of things that night.That I just needed space.That the tension from dinner would fade by morning.That the way his voice had hardened when he walked away hadn’t lodged itself somewhere in my mind.Lies. All of them.Sleep didn’t come easily. I tossed, turned, stared at the ceiling until the city lights outside blurred into something softer, lonelier. At some point past midnight, thirst finally drove me out of bed.Just water, I told myself.In and out. No Adrian.The hallway lights were dimmed, the house wrapped in that deep, late-night quiet that made every sound feel louder than it should be. My footsteps were soft against the floor as I padded toward the kitchen.I was almost there when I heard a quiet curse.I froze.The light in the kitchen was on, low and warm. Adrian stood by the counter, one hand braced against the marble, the other rubbing at the back of his neck. His tie was gone, shirt sleeves rolled up, top buttons undone. He looked… undone.Not the c
Dinner was supposed to be simple.Well, that was what I told myself as I stood in front of the stove, stirring a pot of pasta like my emotional stability depended on it. Simple evening. No overthinking or hidden glances. No hands on waists replaying in my head like a cursed highlight reel.Simple.The problem was the opposite, clearly, nothing about us was simple anymore.I heard footsteps behind me and stiffened automatically.“Smells… edible,” Adrian said.I turned slowly. “That’s the nicest thing you’ve ever said about my cooking.”He leaned against the kitchen island, sleeves rolled up, looking maddeningly relaxed.“I meant it as a compliment,” he said. “I don’t hand those out lightly.”“I’ve noticed.”He smiled faintly, then glanced around. “You didn’t ask the staff to prepare dinner?”“I wanted to,” I admitted. “But I thought… maybe we should try doing something normal.”His gaze lingered on me. “Normal?”“Yeah. Like two people who live in the same house and eat dinner together







