Chapter 7

Chapter 7

ADRIAN

The final numbers came in at half past ten on a Thursday morning, and for the first time in four months I could look at a quarterly projection without feeling the fear of bankruptcy in my head.

Vivian's debut showcase had delivered. Three cities, packed houses, and the kind of press coverage that marketing departments spent fortunes to replicate. The new business segment had legs now. And the board was going to give me enough room to breathe,as I felt all the tension that had been built up in me all this past month began to loosen.

I sat back in my chair and looked at the ceiling for a moment.

It was done. The part I had been using as a reason, or perhaps an excuse, to delay was done.

I thought of Elena.

I had been thinking of Elena more than I let myself show, although I had forced it under wraps and forced myself to focus on making sure that everything was set in place for Vivian, because any mistake would cause the company greatly.

The space was cleared now.

I picked up the ring box from the drawer where I had kept it for the past month and turned it once in my hand. Nothing like the bracelet I had given her for the anniversary, which had been a good gift and the wrong one, chosen with care and without honesty, the way I had been conducting most of the important things in my life for years.

This was different.

I set it on the desk and reached for my phone to call Ethan.

My mother had wanted to meet Vivian for years. Her family and ours went back far enough that my mother kept speaking about it in a tone that showed she was getting to something.  She had hinted that things would have been different without Elena.

She was wrong about that, but I had never found the right moment to say so clearly.

My feelings for Vivian were what they had always been. I felt and cared about her like one would do for younger sibling. 

When I had brought her into the company and gave her debut my full attention, it was because her talent was real and it served the company interest at the same time, so it was a matter of interest aligning, nothing else.

What I had not done well was explain that to Elena. I had told myself I was waiting for the right time. I had told myself that the right time was after the showcase, after the board meeting, after the numbers stabilized. I had been telling myself things like that for months while Elena grew quieter and the light in her grew dimmer.

I saw how tired she looked at the dinner. She had always been composed in a way that cost her something, and seeing the composure there but the cost was visible but I couldn't take about it when my mother and Vivian were sitting three seats down. 

I had raised the divorce that night because I could not sit across from her for another hour pretending the current arrangement was acceptable.

The plan was to end the contract so that I could begin again without the terms and the paperwork and the three years of distance because I  had formed wrong opinions about her at first. I brought out the ring box that I had gotten for her, during one of my spare few moments where I was not cooped up in vivian's world.

I had been wrong about Elena from the beginning. Three years of evidence had dismantled the version of her I built in my mind and what was left was something I had no clean language for yet but I intended to do that.

"Sir." There was something about Ethan’s voice that made me look up. "Elena has submitted her resignation." I set the ring box down. "When?"

"The timestamp is from this morning. Formal letter, no explanation given." I had only told her that we were divorcing, not that she should resign from her work, she was good at what she did and she couldn't leave, just like that, where would she work? Her resigning meant she was leaving and that was not going to happen, I was already reaching for my phone. It rang out. I tried again. Straight to voicemail, which meant the phone was on but she was not answering, and Elena always answered.

"Ethan." I tried to keep my voice level. "Find her location. Check the phone records. SEarch the whole city and find her, no matter what it takes."

He was back in four minutes.

"The last call she received was from Julian Hale," he said carefully. "Her phone's last active signal places her near the airport road."

Julian.

I had seen him once, years ago, before Elena and I married, and I had seen desire and lust in his eyes for Elena, that she had not seen and treated him warmly like a friend, but I had made sure their parts never crossed again, but she was still in contact with him? Without telling me?

I was already standing.

"Have the car brought around," I said, panic in my voice as I made my way t=downstairs, airport meant travelling, travelling meant leaving the city and with the divorce done, nothing was making her stay in this city, and Julian was another variable that I had not accounted for.

The airport road was forty minutes away but the driver knew better to step on it, and we got there in half the time.

I knew something was wrong before I saw it. The way vehicles slowed and clustered meant something ahead had stopped moving entirely.I first saw the car on fire and the first feeling that flooded my system was anger and irritation, that the blockage on the road was preventing me from reaching the airport.

The driver pulled slowly as he spoke,

“Sir, this car looks very similar...”

I barely looked up from my phone, redialing Elena's number for what felt like the hundredth time.

Elena's flight hadn't left yet. If I moved fast enough, I could still stop her.

So I cut him off.

"Find a way around it," I said curtly. "We need to get to the airport."

The driver didn't move.

A knot of unease twisted in my chest.

"Sir..." His voice sounded strained. "I think you should take a look. The car seems like Miss Elena's."

Something in his tone made my stomach drop.

I finally lifted my head.

The wrecked vehicle was barely recognizable beneath twisted metal and roaring flames. For a moment, I clung desperately to my earlier assumption.

It couldn't be hers.

It simply couldn't.

Then the driver pointed.

My eyes followed his hand.

And froze.

Hanging from a jagged piece of metal was a custom keychain I had bought Elena years ago—one of a kind. Impossible to mistake.

My pulse stopped.

No.

No, no, no.

Before I knew it, I was already shoving the car door open.

I stumbled out and ran toward the scene, my heart slamming violently against my ribs.

"Sir, you can't go any further!"

A police officer stepped in front of me, blocking my path.

I barely heard the officer.

My gaze remained locked on the burning wreckage, on the blood smeared across the pavement, on the flames devouring what remained of the vehicle. As I stared, every unanswered call, every text Elena had never replied to, and every opportunity I had squandered came crashing down on me all at once.

My chest tightened until it hurt.

I was too late.

The realization hit me with devastating force.

Elena was gone. And it was my fault.