Chapter 9

Elena POV

Adrian's room wasn't what I expected and I stood in the doorway looking around trying to figure out what was wrong with it before I realized what it was. There was nothing personal here, nothing that said a real person lived in this space, just a bed and a dresser and a chair in the corner and walls that were completely bare.

It looked like a hotel room or maybe a prison cell dressed up to look expensive.

"You can sit down," Adrian said from behind me. "I'll get you some tea or something."

"You don't have to do that." I said to him,

"I know but you've had a rough day and tea helps, that's what my mother used to say before she left." He walked past me toward what I assumed was the kitchen. "Just sit, I'll be back in a minute." He told me.

I sat on the edge of his bed because I didn't know what else to do and the mattress was firm and cold like everything else in this apartment. The windows looked out over the city just like in my room but from a different angle and I was grateful I couldn't see the balcony from here.

Adrian came back a few minutes later with a mug of tea and handed it to me, then sat down in the chair across the room like he was trying to keep as much distance between us as possible.

"Thank you," I said.

"You're welcome."

I sipped the tea and it was too hot but I drank it anyway because I needed something to do with my hands. "Your room is very clean."

"I don't spend much time here." He replied nonchalantly.

"Where do you spend your time?" I asked because of my curiosity.

"Working mostly, or at the office, or in the gym downstairs when I can't sleep." He leaned back in the chair. "This is just where I come to change clothes and pretend to rest."

"That sounds lonely." I remarked sadly.

"It's efficient."

"Those aren't the same thing." I set the mug down on the nightstand. "Do you like being alone all the time?"

"I don't think about it." He replied me

"That's not an answer."

He looked at me and his face was tired in a way I hadn't noticed before, like he'd been tired for years and just got good at hiding it. "I don't know if I like it but it's what I'm used to so it doesn't matter either way."

"Everything matters."

"Not to me." He crossed his arms. "You should drink your tea while it's hot."

I picked up the mug again but I didn't drink, just held it and felt the warmth seeping into my hands. "Can I ask you something?"

"You're going to anyway."

"Why did your mother leave?"

Adrian's jaw tightened and I thought he wasn't going to answer but then he spoke. "She left because my father made her miserable and she couldn't take it anymore, packed a bag one day when I was ten and Charlotte was eight and just walked out."

"Did she ever come back?"

"No, she moved to France and remarried and started a new life without us, sends cards on birthdays sometimes but that's it." He looked away. "My father told us she was weak for leaving and that loving people makes you weak and if we wanted to survive we needed to be stronger than she was."

"That's a horrible thing to tell children."

"Maybe but it worked, Charlotte and I both learned not to need anyone and we've done fine."

"Have you?" I set the mug down again. "Because from where I'm sitting it looks like you're both pretty miserable."

"Charlotte is engaged and happy."

"To James who your father hates and who hates you, that doesn't sound happy to me." I pulled my knees up to my chest. "And you're married to a stranger who looks like your dead wife while living in an apartment full of ghosts." I told him.

"I'm doing what needs to be done to secure the company." He replied back.

"Is that really all you care about? The company?"

Adrian didn't answer right away and I watched his face change, saw something flicker in his eyes before he shut it down. "It's what I'm good at."

"That's not what I asked." I told him.

"It's the answer you're getting." He stood up and walked to the window, looked out at the city with his back to me. "You should sleep, it's late and you haven't slept properly in days."

"Neither have you."

"I'm used to it."

I watched him standing there all stiff and closed off and I thought about what Sophia had written in her letter, about how Adrian had made her feel invisible and looked through her like furniture. "Can I tell you about my parents?"

He turned around. "Why?"

"Because I want to and because you're the only person I can talk to about them right now." I wrapped my arms around my knees. "Everyone else just says they're sorry for my loss and changes the subject but I don't want to change the subject, I want to remember them."

Adrian came back and sat in the chair again. "Okay."

"Okay I can talk about them?"

"Yes, talk about them if you want." He settled back like he was preparing for a long story. "I'll listen."

So I talked and I told him about my mum who worked as a nurse and always smelled like hospital soap and lavender because she kept a sachet in her pocket to cover up the medical smell. I told him about my dad who taught history at a secondary school and loved terrible jokes and read the newspaper every morning with his coffee even though everything was online now.

I told him about Sunday dinners where we'd all cook together and my mum would burn something and my dad would pretend it was delicious anyway. About holidays at the seaside where my dad would fall asleep in his chair and my mum would read romance novels under an umbrella.

"They weren't perfect," I said. "They argued sometimes and my mum got stressed about money and my dad could be stubborn about stupid things, but they loved each other and they loved me and I never doubted that."

"That sounds nice." Adrain remarked.

"It was nice and now it's gone and I don't know how to exist in a world where they're not here anymore." My voice cracked. "I keep forgetting they're dead and then I remember and it's like losing them all over again."

Adrian was quiet for a moment and then he said, "What did you want to be before all this happened?"

"What do you mean?" I asked him confused.

"Before your parents died and the debt and the contract with me, what were you planning to do with your life?" He leaned forward slightly. "You said you were at university, what were you studying?"

"Literature, I wanted to be a teacher like my dad or maybe work in publishing." I wiped my eyes. "I loved books and stories and I thought maybe I could help other people find the books that would change their lives the way books changed mine."

"Why can't you still do that?" He asked me.

"Because I'm married to you and playing a role and I don't have time for dreams anymore." I looked at him. "Everything got crushed under the weight of survival."

"That's not fair." He said.

"No it's not but it's reality." I took a breath. "What about you?" I asked him back.

"What about me?" He repeated like he did not hear me before.

"What did you want before the company became everything?" I watched his face carefully. "You must have had dreams once."

Adrian looked away and I could see him considering whether to answer, whether to let me in even a little bit. "I wanted to paint."

"What?"

"Art, I wanted to study art and paint. I spent all my free time as a kid drawing and painting and making things." He ran his hand through his hair. "My father said it was useless and wouldn't make money and if I wanted to be part of this family I needed to focus on business instead."

"So you stopped?"

"So I stopped and I went to business school and I learned everything my father wanted me to learn and I haven't picked up a paintbrush in fifteen years." He looked back at me. "Satisfied?"

"Do you still want to paint?" I asked him, ignoring his last question.

"I don't know what I want anymore, I stopped wanting things a long time ago because wanting things just leads to disappointment." He stood up again like he couldn't sit still. "I do what needs to be done and I don't think about what I want."

I stood up too and walked over to where he was standing by the window. "That's a miserable way to live."

"It's practical."

"It's sad." I looked up at him and he was so close I could see the exhaustion in his eyes, the lines around his mouth that came from never smiling. "You're sad even if you won't admit it."

"I'm fine."

"You're not and that's okay, you don't have to pretend with me." I took a breath. "Maybe we can figure it out together."

"Figure out what?" He asked me, confusion written on his face

"What we want, who we are outside of this contract and the debt and all the things other people expect from us." I touched his arm. "We're stuck with each other for a year and six months so we might as well try to make it bearable."

Adrian looked down at where my hand was resting on his arm and I thought he was going to pull away but he didn't. "You should sleep."

"I'm not tired anymore."

"Yes you are, you can barely keep your eyes open." He stepped back and my hand fell away. "Use the bed, I'll take the couch in the living room."

"Adrian—"

"Just sleep, Elena, we can figure everything else out tomorrow."

I was tired and arguing seemed pointless so I climbed into his bed fully clothed and pulled the covers up. The sheets smelled like him, like expensive cologne and something else I couldn't identify, and I closed my eyes.

I must have fallen asleep faster than I thought because the next thing I knew the room was darker and Adrian was standing next to the bed pulling a blanket over me.

"Stay," I said and my voice was thick with sleep.

"What?" He asked.

"Stay here, don't sleep on the couch." I reached out and caught his hand. "Please, just sleep, nothing else, I just don't want to be alone right now."

Adrian stood there for a long moment not moving and I could feel him trying to decide what to do. "Elena—"

"Please."

He pulled his hand away and I thought he was leaving but then I felt the bed dip on the other side and he laid down on top of the covers fully clothed with miles of space between us.