THE TRUTH

The elevator doors slid open with a soft chime, and Adrian didn't bother to look up from his laptop.

He knew who it was before she even stepped into the room. 

The click of her heels was too deliberate, too sharp…and now too annoying. The perfume that followed her everywhere was choking and familiar. He'd grown to hate the scent over the past few weeks. It never smelled like jasmine and honey anymore, it smelled like obsession and manipulation.

"Adrian." He didn't respond.

"I said—" he cut her off, still not looking away from his laptop.

"I heard you."

Vanessa appeared in his peripheral vision, her silhouette sharp against the floor-to-ceiling windows behind his desk. She was dressed immaculately, as always, her blonde hair perfectly curled and her makeup flawless. But there was something wrong beneath the polish. Something angry.

And Adrian felt nothing now.

"I need to talk to you," she said, her voice tight.

"I'm busy." his voice falt and final.

"It’s about Seraphina." His fingers paused over the keyboard just for a second. But Vanessa noticed. She always noticed.

"You're letting her stay at your penthouse?" Vanessa continued, stepping closer. "She'll be in your space, wearing your clothes, probably sleeping in your bed, and you're just—"

"She's to stay in the guest room." Vanessa rolled her eyes and kissedher teeth.

"Guest room? Sure." Adrian finally looked up, his expression perfectly blank.

"Why are you even here, Vanessa?"

She faltered for a moment, clearly expecting him to be defensive but when he wasn't, she recovered quickly.

"I want you to send her away."

“...What?”

“You heard me.” Vanessa continued, crossing her arms. "She's a liability and she's going to ruin all we’ve built.

“We?” Adrian whispered and shook his head.

“Everyone knows about the divorce, they’d know she's staying with you, and it'll making you look weak."

The room was silent for a few seconds, then Adrian laughed. It wasn't a warm sound…it was cold and hollow, and it made Vanessa's carefully composed face crack.

"Please," she said, her voice rising. "This is very serious. People will talk. Your investors—"

"My investors," Adrian interrupted adjusting his glassses slightly, "don't care about my personal life. They care about profit and I've tripled quarterly returns."

Vanessa's mouth opened and closed. It opened again but he quietly watched her flounder with detached amusement. It was strange, really. He'd spent months…No…years, thinking she was formidable.

Calculating. 

Worthy of his attention and what seemed like love within these few sad months. Now all he saw was a woman who'd overplayed her role too hard.

"Send her away," Vanessa repeated, her voice strained… "Please. For me."

"For you?"

"Yes." She stepped closer, her expression softening into something she probably thought was vulnerable. "I know things have been difficult since the divorce, but I'm here now… I've always been here. You need to let go of her so we can move on."

“We again.” Adrian leaned back in his chair. He studied her for a long moment, taking in the desperation she was trying so hard to hide. The way her fingers trembled slightly at her sides and the way her smile didn't quite reach her eyes.

"When did you stop loving me?" he asked quietly. Vanessa blinked.

"What?"

"Seraphina asked me that once…back then. I didn't have an answer." He paused, letting the silence stretch. "But I think I do now."

"Adrian, I don't know what you're—"

"You never did love me."

"What the fuck, Adrian?"