Chapter 28

Chapter 28

The retort on the tip of my tongue died unspoken. I plastered on the polished, professional smile I saved for clients. "This hospital is a public place. If you two can be here, so can I." Adrian's brows drew together—he clearly didn't like my answer. Elena, however, seemed to remember something. "So someone in your family really is sick?" I almost laughed at the question. Did she think I'd lied last time about a family member being ill? That I'd made it up to stalk them? Who invents a story like that out of thin air? Adrian probably thought the same of me. But I no longer cared what he thought. I just wanted to get away, so I stepped past them without another word. Jack was still waiting where I'd left him. Seeing me return, his mouth curved into a warm smile. "I was wondering what took so long—turns out you went to get coffee." "Couldn't let you sit here thirsty," I said, handing him the cup. "It should be over soon." He glanced at his watch. Five hours had passed since Grace went in. No updates had come out, and Jack kept reassuring me that was good—meant everything was going smoothly. It steadied me a little. He reached out and ruffled my hair gently. "Everything's going to be all right." "Yeah," I said. I believed it. Across the waiting area, Elena was restless, eyes fixed on the operating-room doors. "Adrian, I'm so nervous," she said, turning to him for comfort. Adrian was staring at something, lost in thought. He didn't answer. Elena tried again. "Adrian?" He blinked back to the present. "What?" "What are you looking at?" She followed his gaze, but saw nothing and grew curious. "Nothing," he said, expression cool and distant as ever. He still remembered to reassure her. "Don't worry. It'll be fine." With him there, Elena settled again. … Grace's surgery was a success. For the first time in weeks, I could finally sleep without dread. Sunday morning I woke early, stewed chicken soup, and brought it to the hospital to help her recover. I was almost at the door when a familiar voice drifted out. I froze, convinced I'd entered the wrong room. I checked the number three times before accepting I hadn't. So Adrian had come to the wrong place? Inside, he was speaking to Grace. "Sorry I haven't visited sooner—I've been tied up with work." His tone and manner sounded sincere enough. Anyone who didn't know better would believe him. But to me it rang hollow. Of course—he'd been busy with his true love. That certainly counted as busy. Grace, however, was delighted he'd come. She even comforted him. "Work comes first, of course. A young wolf should focus on his career. Besides, you gave Serena time off to care for me. Having her here is the same." "She's… worked hard these past weeks." There was a trace of guilt in his voice, though not much. I stepped in then. "Mom, how are you feeling today?" "Much better." Grace looked between us, puzzled. "I was wondering—why didn't you two come together?" My stomach tightened. I'd forgotten about that. To keep her calm during treatment, I'd hidden the changes between Adrian and me, letting her believe we were still solid. The surgery was over, but she was still fragile. If she learned the truth now, she'd worry. After a beat of panic, I looked at Adrian, hoping he'd catch my hint. Ten years together had to count for some understanding. He did. Patiently, he explained to Grace, "I just got back from a business trip. I came straight here without telling her." "That explains it. Then go home and rest—you must be exhausted. Every time Serena returns from a trip, she loses weight from the stress." "She's worked hard." The words grated on me—awkward and false. But his acting was convincing. With his looks, it was a waste he hadn't gone into performance. At Grace's urging, Adrian didn't stay long. I figured he was eager to visit his real future mother-in-law. Grace insisted I walk him out. "No need—he knows the way," I said reluctantly. She gave me a stern look. "Go." "Fine…" I got up. Adrian had the nerve to let me escort him without protest. I walked him to the elevators. Once I was sure Grace couldn't hear, my polite mask dropped. My face went cold. He saw the shift clearly. His eyes narrowed. "You seem to really dislike seeing me." I wanted to roll my eyes. As if he didn't know. Still, his visit had eased some pressure. Grace kept asking about him—I'd nearly run out of excuses. "I wouldn't say that," I replied, neither confirming nor denying. He let it pass. "I've spoken to the hospital. They'll take good care of your mother." A mocking curve touched my lips. "She's not in that room. You can drop the act." "What's that supposed to mean?" His brows snapped together; his voice cooled. I was done pretending. "Why play dumb, Adrian?" "Speak plainly." He really committed to the performance. Fine—I'd had enough anyway. Time to lay it all out. "Yes, let's be clear. We should have been clear a long time ago." I was exhausted. Twenty-five days since I'd learned about his true love. Every single one had been torment. I desperately wanted release. This was the perfect moment. I met his eyes directly. No hesitation. "Adrian, we're done." Done meant no overlap for the rest of our lives. I'd once thrown everything into this—bet it all, ignored every risk, offered my whole heart for his. But true hearts had become a distant memory for me. For love of him, I'd crashed into walls until I bled. Now I couldn't love anymore. So I let go. From now on, I'd love only myself. Adrian stared at me coldly, as if studying something unfamiliar. For ten years I'd prized love above all else—believed it worth any struggle, never weighing cost or consequence. Only now did I see love was the most useless thing in the world. The warrior who'd charged for love had lost everything. I was tired. I needed freedom. While he studied me, I repeated it firmly. "Adrian, we're done."