Unwanted Echoes

The city lights blurred through the tinted windows as the car moved steadily through the evening traffic. The hum of the engine filled the silence, a stark contrast to the storm brewing inside Elena Carter.

She sat stiffly in the backseat, arms crossed, jaw clenched. The cool leather beneath her palms should have been soothing, grounding—but nothing could erase the echo of Adrian Wolfe’s voice from her mind.

Why did he still have this effect on her?

She exhaled sharply, tilting her head back against the seat. She should be over this. Over him. It had been three years since she walked away from their marriage, three years of carefully reconstructing her life, piece by piece. And yet, one meeting—one damn look from him—had unraveled everything.

“Elena?”

She blinked, realizing the driver had spoken. Paul, her longtime chauffeur, glanced at her through the rearview mirror.

“Yes?” she said, her voice sharper than intended.

“Would you like me to take the long route home? The traffic ahead is heavy.”

“No,” she said quickly. “I just—” She stopped, sighing. “Just take me home, Paul.”

“Of course, ma’am.”

The car rolled forward again, but Elena’s mind was stuck in reverse, replaying the afternoon’s encounter.

Adrian had looked… unchanged. No, that wasn’t right. He looked better—as infuriating as that was. Confident. Composed. Like a man who had everything under control. Like their past hadn’t even touched him.

Her fingers curled into fists.

She hated how easily he had slipped back into her world, even for a brief moment. The way he had looked at her, his gaze steady—assessing, knowing—as if he could still read her like an open book.

But he couldn’t. Not anymore.

She was not the same woman who had once loved him recklessly, who had once fought for a marriage that he had let slip through his fingers.

She had moved on.

Hadn’t she?

Three Years Ago

“Elena, don’t walk away from me.”

She paused, fingers gripping the door handle, her back rigid. His voice was calm, but she knew the tension simmering beneath it.

She turned slowly, her throat tight. Adrian stood across the living room, his tie undone, his shirt sleeves rolled up. The perfect picture of controlled chaos.

“I’m not walking away,” she said, her voice quieter than she wanted it to be. “I’m trying to make you see what’s happening to us.”

Adrian let out a breath, raking a hand through his hair. “We’re fine, Elena.”

Her chest tightened. “No, we’re not. And you know it.”

Silence stretched between them. The weight of every unspoken word, every ignored argument, every lonely night hung in the air like a storm about to break.

She took a step closer, searching his face. “When was the last time we had dinner together without talking about work? When was the last time you looked at me like you used to?”

Adrian’s jaw ticked, but he said nothing.

“Exactly.” A bitter laugh escaped her lips. “You’re always too busy. Too focused on the next deal, the next investment, the next—” She stopped herself, pressing her lips together.

This wasn’t about his work. It was about the fact that she no longer felt like she mattered in his world.

“I love you, Adrian,” she whispered, the words trembling. “But I won’t beg to be a priority in my own marriage.”

Something flickered in his gaze—something raw, something she had hoped to see before it was too late.

But then, like always, he masked it.

“Elena…”

Her heart squeezed. She waited. For a reason to stay. For a fight. For something.

But Adrian Wolfe had built his empire on control, and he wasn’t about to lose it now—not even for her.

So she nodded.

Turned.

And walked out the door.

Present Day

Elena sucked in a sharp breath, blinking rapidly.

Damn it.

Her hands trembled slightly as she clenched them into fists. She had promised herself she wouldn’t look back. She had sworn to herself that she wouldn’t let Adrian get to her ever again.

And yet, here she was, sitting in the back of a luxury car, feeling like the same woman who had once stood in their penthouse, waiting for a man who never truly chose her.

She refused to let that happen again.

“Elena,” Paul’s voice cut through her thoughts again, gentler this time. “Are you all right?”

She let out a slow breath, forcing her hands to relax. “I’m fine,” she lied. “Just a long day.”

Paul didn’t respond, but his silence was heavy with understanding.

Elena turned her gaze to the window, watching the blurred city lights streak past.

She refused to let Adrian Wolfe occupy any more space in her mind.

Even if, deep down, she knew he already had.