LOGINTHE hum of the car engine slowed into silence as Adrian pulled into the parking lot. Morning sunlight danced across the sleek black paint, reflecting the kind of success that needed no chauffeur, no driver in the front seat, just Adrian himself, the man who preferred control in everything he touched. He exhaled slowly, a habit he had never managed to shake off before stepping into the world of work.
Just as he reached for his briefcase, his phone buzzed on the passenger seat. The vibration was sharp, urgent, and yet when his eyes dropped to the screen, his lips curved into a private smile.
The Automobile Guy.
Of course, no one at home and work would ever suspect what that name meant. For them, it was just another client, another business contact. For his wife, it was the company's automobile repairer. But Adrian knew better. The moment he swiped the screen, her voice flooded his ear like velvet.
“Happy birthday, darling.”
The softness of her tone carried a promise, one that made him lean back against the leather seat with an unguarded grin.
“You remembered,” he replied, his voice warm, casual, but tinged with a satisfaction he couldn’t quite hide.
“I could never forget,” she said, laughter rippling lightly at the end of her words. “So, what is the big plan tonight? You are not going to leave me wondering, are you?”
Adrian chuckled, his hand drumming on the steering wheel.
“Big plan?” he teased. “You know me, I like to keep things quiet. But—” he lowered his voice, almost conspiratorial, “I will stop by after work. A little celebration. Just us.”
The line went silent for a beat, then her voice returned, softer, more playful.
“That is what I wanted to hear. I have got a surprise for you too.”
“You and your surprises,” he murmured, pretending to sound weary but smiling nonetheless. “Last time you nearly set my whole schedule off balance.”
“That is because you spend too much time working,” she shot back. “Birthdays aren’t for boardrooms, Adrian.”
Adrian let her words linger, the warmth in them stirring something he buried too often beneath spreadsheets and strategies. He glanced around the quiet lot, half-aware of how dangerous this game was. Yet, it was moments like this that slipped under his armor.
“You have already made my morning better,” he confessed, his voice low. “Now, let me get through this day, and tonight, we will talk about real celebrations.”
Her laugh filled his ear once more, rich and satisfied.
“I will hold you to that.”
The call ended, the name *The Automobile Guy* blinking away as though erasing evidence of what just transpired. Adrian stared at the screen for a moment before sliding the phone back into his pocket, his expression settling into the polished calm he wore like a suit.
A shadow fell across the driver’s side window. He looked up to find a familiar figure approaching with a spring in his step. Peter, his assistant, young and brimming with the kind of energy Adrian sometimes envied, grinned at him.
Adrian rolled down the window as he leaned slightly closer.
“Happy birthday, sir!” the assistant said, his tone respectful but touched with friendly warmth. “I thought I would be the first in the office to say it.”
Adrian arched a brow, amused.
“You are not the first,” he muttered under his breath, then caught himself. Straightening, he replied with a nod, “Thank you, Peter. Early as always, I see.”
Peter chuckled.
“Someone has to make sure things are smooth before the boss arrives. Besides, I figured today would be special for you.”
Adrian stepped out of the car, adjusting his jacket with practiced ease.
“Special? It is just another day. Clients don’t care if it is your birthday.”
“But employees do,” Peter countered lightly as they fell into step toward the building. “And maybe your family too. You have got dinner planned tonight, right?”
Adrian’s lips pressed into a thin line, his thoughts flashing briefly to the earlier call.
“Something like that,” he said vaguely.
Peter, always sharp enough to sense when not to push, smoothly shifted the conversation.
“Alright then, back to business. I reviewed the reports from yesterday, there is a bit of an issue with the Westbrook account. Their shipment hasn’t cleared, and if it drags, we might lose their confidence.”
Adrian’s stride didn’t falter.
“I will handle Westbrook myself. Draft an email setting a meeting for Friday. Make sure the numbers are in order before then.”
“Yeah, I'm already working on it,” Peter said quickly. His tone carried a hint of pride, the eagerness of someone who knew Adrian demanded perfection but respected it when he saw initiative. “And about the presentation this afternoon, you will have everything ready on your desk by noon.”
Adrian gave a slight nod of approval.
“Good. Keep it sharp. We are not leaving room for errors.”
“And ugh, a lady rang this morning—” he paused, not having the slightest idea whether to continue or just stop.
“A lady?” Adrian halted, turning to him.
Peter nodded.
“Yes sir, a lady.”
“Business I suppose,” he continued walking.
“I'm afraid not, sir.”
“Then what?”
“She wanted to wish you a happy birthday, says her name is—”
“I don't care about her name,” he interrupted, “save it,” he added.
Peter swallowed hard.
“Okay, sir.”
They approached the glass doors of the building, the morning light reflecting off its surface like a mirror. Peter reached ahead to pull the door open, but Adrian’s hand was already there, firm and unyielding. He didn’t need doors opened for him.
“After you,” Adrian said instead, the faintest smirk on his lips.
Peter laughed softly, shaking his head as they entered.
“Even on your birthday, sir, you are impossible.”
“Discipline doesn’t take days off,” Adrian replied, his voice cool but steady.
And with that, the noise of the office greeted them, phones ringing, keyboards tapping, voices blending into the hum of ambition. Adrian’s expression slipped fully into its professional mask, the smile from earlier tucked away where no one else could see.
Only he knew that tonight, behind a door no one dared to knock, the real celebration would begin.
THAT statement caught Vivian off guard. For a moment, she just stared at him, her eyes searching his face for some crack in his resolve. Then she let out a scoff, sharp and bitter, which slowly melted into a laugh, a sad, hollow laugh that carried more pain than humor.“Wow,” she breathed, folding her arms tightly across her chest. “So… you don’t even love me?”Adrian dropped the folded paper onto the bed and turned fully to face her. His voice was calm and deliberate.“I love you,” he said. “But I’m a married man.” He laid heavy emphasis on the word ‘married’, as though to drive home a truth she couldn’t ignore. “There are certain boundaries I can’t cross.”Vivian shook her head, her hair swaying with the sharpness of her movement. “Mm mm… no. You don’t love me enough. Because if you did, you wouldn’t make me feel like I’m nothing.” She turned away from him, her face hardening, her shoulders stiff, her arms still tightly folded.Adrian shifted closer, closing the small distance betw
THE soft glow of amber lights bounced across the bar as the three friends settled into their usual corner table. The place was alive but not rowdy, low music drifting from hidden speakers, clinking glasses, and laughter from a group of young men at the far end. A waiter approached, laying down a bucket of ice and three tall glasses.“Your usual?” the waiter asked, already reaching for a bottle of scotch.“Yeah, line them up,” Jakes said, loosening his tie and leaning back with an easy grin. Adrian gave a small nod, scrolling briefly through his phone before placing it face down on the table. Leonard was already drumming his fingers impatiently, eager for the first round.The waiter poured generously, the golden liquid catching the light, before stepping back with a polite smile.“Ah,” Leonard exhaled, lifting his glass. “Finally, something to wash off the stress of this week.”“To the weekend,” Jakes added, clinking glasses with the others.They took a sip in unison, the warmth settli
THE late morning sun spilled lightly across the sky when Adrian pulled up in front of Vivian’s apartment complex. He honked once, sharp but not loud enough to draw unnecessary attention. Moments later, Vivian emerged, dressed in a fitted sundress that clung in all the right places, a scarf loosely tied around her neck, and oversized sunglasses hiding half her face. She carried a handbag too small to conceal anything but her phone and a tube of lipstick.Sliding into the passenger seat, she smiled faintly. “You came.”“I said I would try,” Adrian replied simply, shifting the car into gear. His eyes flicked briefly to her before returning to the road. “How are you feeling?”“A bit light-headed,” she admitted, letting her hand brush across her stomach. “But at least I don’t feel like throwing up anymore.”“Good,” he muttered, tightening his grip on the steering wheel. “Let’s just get this done quietly. The earlier we know what is wrong, the better.”The drive was tense, filled with shor
THE faint glow of dawn spilled through the curtains, painting the room in soft hues of gray and gold. Amelia knelt at the bedside, her hands clasped, lips moving in quiet supplication. The steady rise and fall of Adrian’s chest on the bed behind her told her he was still lost in sleep.She whispered her final “Amen” and opened her eyes just as a sharp vibration broke the silence. Adrian’s phone lit up on the nightstand beside her. Curious, she tilted it slightly and frowned at the name flashing on the screen.The Automobile Guy.“Baby,” she called softly, giving his arm a gentle tap.He didn’t stir.She tapped again, firmer this time. He jolted awake with a start, blinking hard.“Hey, babe,” she said, pointing at the glowing screen. “The Automobile Guy is calling.”He reached out groggily, squinting at the phone before rubbing his eyes.“Why is he calling this early?” Amelia asked, her tone laced with curiosity.Adrian sighed, voice still heavy with sleep. “I told him yesterday to co
SHE still didn't respond, but just kept fumbling with her phone. Amelia’s eyes narrowed. “Claire… why are you fumbling like that?”Seated at the far end of the couch, she had been battling with that phone ever since it started buzzing insistently. The screen lit up, vibrated again, but Claire’s fingers only hovered over it before pressing the side button quickly to silence it.“Nothing,” Claire muttered, forcing a weak smile as she pushed the phone face down on the couch cushion. “It is really nothing,” she added.“Nothing?” Amelia leaned back in her seat, arms folded across her chest. “You have been avoiding that call like it is poison. Who was that?”Claire laughed lightly, too lightly. “Oh, come on, Amelia. Do you have to interrogate me about every call? It is probably a wrong number, or… one of my friends just being silly.”Amelia’s gaze lingered on her, unconvinced. She knew her younger sister too well; Claire always gave herself away with that nervous giggle. “If you say so,”
HE sat up, now seated across from her. His face showed that concern. What about Leonard now? He needed to be sure what he heard.“About who?” his voice cut through the silence of the bedroom, his tone carrying both worry and irritation.“Leonard,” she repeated, softer this time, her gaze dropping to her lap as though saying his name was heavy.Adrian leaned back against a pillow. He could already feel where this conversation was headed. “What about Leonard?”“Talk to him,” Amelia said, her voice barely above a whisper now.Adrian gave a short laugh that lacked humor. “Why should I talk to him?”Her eyes shot up. “Because you are his friend! Who else do you expect to do it?”The irritation in her tone made Adrian rub his forehead. “Amelia…”“No, Adrian, listen.” She leaned forward, her hands clasped tightly together. “Clara spends virtually all her days at the hospital. Do you know what that means? The doctor’s office has practically become her second home. Every week, she is in an







