Chapter Forty: The Truce

The routine returned slowly.

Not all at once. Not like before. But slowly. Carefully. Like two people learning to walk on ice.

I made coffee in the morning. He drank it. He left tea on my nightstand. I drank it. We ate dinner together. We didn't talk about Volkov. We didn't talk about Henry. We didn't talk about the plan. We just talked about nothing.

It was enough.

On the third night, I found a book on my nightstand.

Not tea. Not coffee. A book. A novel I'd mentioned once, weeks ago, in passing. I'd said I wanted to read it. I'd forgotten I'd said it. He hadn't.

I picked it up. I read the first page. Then the second. Then the third.

I read until three in the morning. I finished it in two days. When I was done, I left it on his desk with a note.

Thank you. It was perfect.

He didn't mention it. But the next day, there was another book on my nightstand.

I almost smiled.

---

Felix noticed the shift.

"You two are talking again," he said.

"We were always talking."

"You were talking about work. Now you're talking about something else."

I looked at him. He looked at me.

"Focus on the case," I said.

"I am. But I'm also focusing on you. Someone has to."

I didn't respond. I just turned back to my computer.

But he was right. Something had changed. Something small. Something I couldn't name.

Adrian and I weren't just partners anymore. We weren't just two people with a common enemy. We were something else. Something I didn't have words for.

I didn't need words. Not yet.

---

On the fifth day, I found Adrian in the kitchen.

He was making dinner. Not ordering it. Not having someone else make it. Making it. He was standing at the stove, stirring something in a pan. He didn't turn when I entered.

"You're cooking," I said.

"I am."

"Why?"

"Because I wanted to."

I sat at the island. I watched him. He moved like someone who knew what he was doing. Like someone who'd done this before.

"I didn't know you could cook," I said.

"There's a lot you don't know about me."

"I'm learning."

He turned. He looked at me. That same unnamed something crossed his face. This time, he didn't hide it.

"Good," he said.

He set a plate in front of me. Pasta. Simple. Perfect. I took a bite. It was good. Better than good.

"This is amazing," I said.

"I know."

I almost laughed. Almost.

We ate in silence. The kitchen was warm. The city hummed outside. I felt something I hadn't felt in years.

Safe.

---

That night, I found Adrian in the living room.

He was sitting on the couch. He was reading. He didn't look up when I entered.

"Can't sleep?" he asked.

"No."

He set down his book. He looked at me.

"Nightmares?"

"Yes."

He didn't ask what about. He knew.

I sat on the other end of the couch. Not too close. Not too far.

"I've been thinking," I said.

"About what?"

"About what happens after. After Henry. After Julian. After all of it."

"And?"

"I don't know. I've spent so long planning. I've spent so long fighting. I don't know what I'll do when it's over."

Adrian was quiet for a moment. Then he said, "You'll live."

I looked at him. He looked at me.

"You'll live," he said again. "You'll build something. You'll find something that matters. You'll be happy."

"How do you know?"

"Because I know you."

I didn't respond. I didn't know how.

He picked up his book. He started reading again. He didn't reach for me. He didn't take my hand.

I stayed on the couch. I watched the city through the window. I thought about what he said.

You'll live. You'll build something. You'll be happy.

I didn't know if I believed him. But I wanted to.

After a while, I stood. I walked to my room. I closed the door.

I didn't sleep. But I rested.