Chapter 6

Chapter 6

ADRIAN POINT OF VIEW

Rain pounds my windshield as I drive through the darkness. My wipers can barely keep up. The country road twists ahead, no streetlights, just my headlights cutting through the black.

My phone rings through the car speakers. Celeste's name flashes on the dashboard. The third call in an hour. I press ignore, guilt crushing my chest. Another lie to explain tomorrow. Another evening meeting that ran long.

How many excuses have I given her in our month of marriage? Too many to count.

The GPS tells me to turn onto an even smaller road, unmarked, dirt, hidden between thick trees. At the end of the path sits a small cabin, warm light glowing from its windows. I park beside the only other car a rental with out-of-state plates.

For five minutes, I just sit, listening to rain drum on the roof. Five minutes to remember who I really am. Five minutes to shed the mask I've worn all day, devoted husband, obedient grandson, worthy heir.

When I finally step out, the rain soaks me instantly. I don't run for cover. I stand with my face turned up, letting the storm wash over me, cleansing me of the lies I've lived today.

The cabin door opens before I knock.

Elias stands there, backlit by the fire burning behind him. His hair is longer than when I last saw him, his face thinner, shadows under his eyes that weren't there before.

"You came," he says simply.

I step inside, dripping water onto the wooden floor. "I shouldn't have."

"But you did."

For a moment, we stand facing each other, neither moving, the space between us charged with everything we can't say.

Then I cross that space in three steps, pulling him against me, our mouths meeting with hunger born of weeks apart.

"I've missed you," I whisper against his neck. "God, I've missed you so much."

He pulls back, hands framing my face. "But you're still married."

The words bring reality crashing back.

"Yes." One word. So much pain.

He steps away. "Take off those wet clothes. There's a fire. I made food."

His casual tone doesn't match his eyes, dark with hurt and want and anger. I remove my soaked jacket, then my shoes, my tie, my shirt. He watches from across the room, arms crossed.

The cabin is small but comfortable. One main room with the fireplace, a kitchen in the corner, a door leading to what must be the bedroom.

"How did you find this place?" I ask, taking the towel he hands me.

"Friend of a friend. Cash only. No questions." He turns to the kitchen. "No one will look for a Lancaster here."

The name hits like a slap. Lancaster. My prison. My curse.

"How's Chicago?" I change the subject, watching him move around the small space.

"It would be better if you were there." He doesn't look at me. "The firm is good. The projects are challenging. The apartment has a view of the lake." He sets two plates on the small table. "But none of it matters because every morning I wake up alone, reaching for someone who chose his grandfather's approval over me."

I flinch. "That's not fair."

"Isn't it?" He finally turns to face me. "You're wearing a wedding ring, Adrian. You sleep next to a woman you barely know. You live in your grandfather's puppet theater while I'm trying to build a new life hundreds of miles away. And yet here we are, sneaking around like teenagers, stealing moments that will never add up to a real life."

"I had no choice." The old defense, worn thin.

"We always have choices. You made yours. I'm still making mine."

We eat in silence. Outside, the storm grows stronger, wind howling around the cabin.

"Why did you come back?" I ask finally. "From Chicago. Why agree to meet me?"

He stares into his wine glass. "Because love makes fools of us all."

So simple. So devastating.

"How is she?" he asks after another long silence.

I look up, surprised. "Celeste?"

"Unless you have another wife I don't know about."

His attempt at humor falls flat.

"She's... kind. Smart. Trying to make the best of a bad situation."

"Does she know? About us?"

"No. She thinks I'm devoted to work. That the Lancaster business empire demands all my time."

"Another lie among many." He pushes his plate away. "How long are you planning to live this way, Adrian? How many years of lies do you think you can handle before they destroy you?"

The question hits its mark. I stand abruptly, walking to the fireplace. "I don't know."

"Does she deserve this? Being married to someone who will never love her? Who sneaks away to be with someone else?"

"No. Nobody deserves this. Not her. Not you. Not even me."

"Yet here we are." He comes to stand beside me. "Living lies that grow bigger every day."

I turn to him, fingers tracing his jaw. "I thought I could let you go. I tried. For a month, I've tried to be the husband Celeste deserves. The grandson Grandfather demands."

"And?" He leans into my touch.

"And I'm dying inside." The admission breaks something in me, tears finally falling. "Every day without you feels like drowning."

He closes his eyes, pain written across his face. "Don't say these things unless you plan to change something. I can't keep being your secret, Adrian. It's killing me too."

"I know." I rest my forehead against his.

We stand that way for long minutes, the fire crackling beside us, rain drumming on the roof.

"Come to bed," he whispers finally. "Just for tonight. Tomorrow we can talk about what happens next."

I follow him to the small bedroom. We undress each other slowly, remembering bodies once so familiar. When we come together, it isn't just bodies joining but souls reconnecting. I lose myself completely, forgetting the lies, the marriage, the duty waiting beyond these walls.

After, we lie tangled in sheets, listening to the storm.

"I rented the cabin for three days," he says quietly. "I told myself if you didn't show tonight, I'd never contact you again."

I tighten my arm around him. "And now?"

"Now I don't know. Being with you makes everything harder and easier at the same time. I can't imagine walking away again. But I also can't imagine sharing you with a life that's slowly killing you."

I stare at the ceiling. "My father chose love over duty once."

"What?" He lifts his head, looking at me with surprise.

"Something Grandfather told me before the wedding. My father fell in love with someone Grandfather didn't approve of. He chose that person over the family, over his inheritance, over everything."

"What happened?"

"According to Grandfather, it ended badly. The relationship failed. My father came crawling back, and Grandfather arranged his marriage to my mother." My voice turns bitter. "A proper marriage that produced a son to continue the bloodline."

"Do you believe him?"

"I don't know. But what if my father was brave enough to try? What if he had the courage I lack?"

"You're not lacking courage, Adrian. You're trapped in an impossible situation."

"One I walked into willingly. I could have gotten on that plane to Chicago. I could have chosen you."

He sits up. "And your grandfather would have destroyed my career, just like he threatened."

"Maybe. Or maybe that was another manipulation."

Silence falls between us again, comfortable this time.

"I have something to show you," he says suddenly, getting up. He disappears into the main room, returning with a folder.

"What's this?" I ask as he hands it to me.

"An offer. From a firm in London. They want me to head their new urban redevelopment division. Significant salary increase. Fresh start."

I open the folder, scanning the contents. "London?"

"Four thousand miles from your grandfather's reach." He watches my face carefully. "I haven't accepted yet."

The implication hangs in the air. A possibility. An escape.

"When do you need to give them an answer?" I ask, my heart racing.

"Two weeks." He takes the folder back. "I'm not asking you to come with me, Adrian. I'm not giving you an ultimatum. I'm just letting you know where I'll be, if you ever find the courage your father once had."

I pull him close. "I don't deserve you."

"Probably not," he agrees with a sad smile. "But love isn't about deserving. It's about choosing. Every day."

We make love again, slower this time, memorizing each other. Outside, the storm begins to ease, rain softening to a gentle patter.

In the early hours of morning, my phone buzzes on the nightstand. Three missed calls from Celeste. Two text messages asking if I'm okay. Worry in every word from a woman who deserves better than the lie I'm living.

Beside me, Elias sleeps peacefully. I study him, the curve of his lips, the dark lashes against his cheeks. Beautiful. Perfect. Mine.

Except he isn't. Not while I live a double life.

Carefully, trying not to wake him, I slip out of bed. I dress quietly, each piece of clothing feeling like armor being strapped back on, businessman, husband, Lancaster.

I write a note, leaving it on the pillow where my head had been:

*I love you. Always have. Always will.*

*-A*

Simple words that say everything and nothing.

In the main room, I pause by the folder containing the London offer. A new life waiting. A choice to be made.

Outside, dawn paints the wet forest in soft grays. The storm has passed, leaving behind a world washed clean. I stand on the porch, breathing in the scent of rain-soaked earth and pine.

Two weeks to decide. Two weeks to find courage or surrender completely to the life mapped out for me.

Two weeks to choose between duty and love, between appearance and truth, between dying slowly or truly living.

I get into my car and begin the long drive back to a home that has never felt like mine, to a wife who doesn't know me, to a life built on shifting sand.

Behind me, in the small cabin hidden among trees, the man I love sleeps on, waiting for me to make a choice my father once made, to be brave enough to risk everything for love.

Or to remain forever trapped in whispers in the dark.