Chapter Ninety-Five: The Confession

Adrian told me the rest on a Friday.

We were in his office. Felix had just left. The door was closed. I was standing by the bookshelf, scanning titles I'd never read, when he said my name.

"Elena."

I turned. He was sitting at his desk. He wasn't looking at me. He was looking at the photograph of his father. The one he kept in the drawer. The one he'd finally placed on his desk.

"What?"

He was quiet for a moment. Then he said, "I was at your wedding."

I didn't move. I just waited.

"Your first wedding. To Julian. I was there."

I walked to the chair across from his desk. I sat.

"Why?"

He looked up. He looked at me.

"I'd been investigating the Ashfords for years. I knew what Julian was. I knew what he was capable of. I knew he was going to hurt you."

"And you came to the wedding."

"I came to see you. To see if I was wrong. To see if you were different. To see if you knew what you were getting into."

I didn't respond.

"You didn't," he said. "You stood at that altar and you promised yourself to a man who would kill you three years later. And I stood in the back of the chapel and I watched. I didn't do anything. I didn't say anything. I just watched."

I looked at him. He looked at me.

"Why didn't you stop it?" I asked.

"I didn't know he would kill you. Not then. I only knew what he was capable of. I thought—"

He stopped. He looked away.

"You thought what?"

"I thought you might be different. I thought you might see through him on your own."

I almost laughed. "I didn't."

"No. You didn't."

"Then you should have warned me."

"I should have done a lot of things."

We sat in silence. The city hummed outside.

After a while, I said, "You were there."

"I was there."

"You saw me marry him."

"I saw you marry him."

"And you didn't do anything."

"I didn't do anything."

I stood. I walked to the window. I didn't look at the city. I looked at the glass.

"I dreamed of falling for months after," he said. "I'd wake up and see it. You. The balcony. The fall. I didn't know it was real. I thought it was guilt. Or imagination. Something my mind made up."

I turned. I looked at him.

"And then you walked into my office. Alive. Whole. And I knew."

"Knew what?"

"That I wasn't losing my mind. That you were—that this was—"

He stopped. He looked at me.

"I don't know what this is," he said. "But I know I'm not going to let it happen again."

I held his gaze. Neither of us spoke.

"Okay," I said.

"Okay?"

"I believe you."

He didn't smile. But something in his shoulders loosened. Something that had been tight for weeks.

"Good," he said.

---

That afternoon, I found Daniel in the living room.

He was sitting on the couch. He was reading. He looked up when I entered.

"You okay?" he asked.

"I am. Actually."

I sat beside him.

"I've been thinking," I said. "About Adrian. About what he told me. About the wedding."

He set down his book. He looked at me.

"What about it?"

"He was there. At my first wedding. To Julian. He saw me marry him. He didn't do anything."

Daniel didn't react. He just looked at me.

"Why didn't he?"

"He didn't know Julian would kill me. He only knew what Julian was capable of. He thought I might see through him on my own."

"But you didn't."

"No."

He was quiet for a moment. Then he said, "Do you blame him?"

I considered the question. I thought about Adrian. About his face. About his voice. About the way he'd looked at me when he told me.

"No," I said. "I don't."

"Why not?"

"Because he was young. Because he was focused on his own revenge. Because he didn't know what Julian would do."

"But he suspected."

"Yes."

"And he didn't do anything."

"No."

Daniel looked at me. He looked at me the way he used to when we were children.

"I don't know if I can forgive him," he said.

"You don't have to."

"But you did."

"I didn't forgive him. I just understood."

He was quiet for a moment. Then he nodded.

"Okay," he said.

I sat across from him. We didn't speak. We just sat there.

After a while, he said, "Do you think Mom would have forgiven him?"

I considered the question. "I don't know."

"Me neither."

We sat there. The kitchen was warm. The city hummed outside.

Then Daniel stood. He picked up his book. He walked to the door.

"Daniel."

He stopped.

"Thank you. For being here."

He turned. He looked at me.

"Where else would I be?"

He left.

I stayed at the island. I thought about my mother. I thought about Adrian. I thought about everything that had happened.

It wasn't enough. But it was something.

I stood. I walked to my office. I started working.

---

That night, I found Adrian on the balcony.

He was standing at the railing. The city stretched out in front of him. The sun had set. The lights were on.

I stood beside him. He didn't turn.

"I told Daniel," I said.

He didn't respond.

"About the wedding. About what you told me."

He turned. He looked at me.

"And?"

"He doesn't know if he can forgive you."

He didn't respond.

"But he understands."

He looked at me. He looked at me the way he had a hundred times before.

"That's enough," he said.

The city hummed below us. Somewhere, a siren wailed. Somewhere else, a door slammed. The sounds of a city that never stopped moving. I listened to them.

"Okay," I said.

He didn't reach for me. I didn't reach for him. We stood at the railing, two people who had spent years running from the same shadow, and watched the lights flicker on the water.

Tomorrow, the trial would begin. Tomorrow, the world would shift again.

But tonight, the balcony was quiet, and the city was loud, and for once, I didn't want to change a thing.