Page 106 of Only Fate

He follows me into the living room. I take the couch, and he sits in the chair.

“Essie, I fucked up,” he says, scrubbing a hand over his face. His eyes are watery when he stares back at me. “I should’ve told you from the beginning, but we were finally in a good place, somewhere I’d dreamed we’d be for years. I was scared to ruin it.”

I feel my pulse running wild. “You didn’t think I’d eventually find out?”

“I knew you would. I just …” A stressed breath leaves him. “I didn’t think it’d happen how it did.”

“Do you remember the night I went to River’s dorm? The first night we hung out.”

He nods.

“I suffered from flashbacks of the accident, but they’d come and go. The night I came to your dorm, they’d returned, and I hadn’t slept in days. I came looking for my brother, but that search led me to you. Our relationship and late-night conversations became my peace. I never thought you’d end up helping the person who’d stolen it to begin with.”

Adrian flinches at my last sentence. “I’m sorry, Essie. I messed up. I’ll completely clear myself from the case,” he says in a low tone, bowing his head.

We’re both quiet for a moment.

I frown. “You can’t pick and choose when to be honest, Adrian. Trust in a relationship is all or nothing with me.”

He raises his chin, meeting my eyes in anguish. “Please?—”

“The damage is done,” I say, talking over him and shaking my head.

“Essie,” he pleads again, pain in his eyes. He stands, drops to his knees in front of me, and takes my hand in his. “Give me another chance.”

He weaves our hands together and rests his head in my lap. The cords stand out in his neck, and his Adam’s apple bobs.

I slowly pull away from him, finger by finger. “I don’t trust you.”

“Let me prove it to you.”

“I need time,” I whisper. “And I need for you to please leave.”

He nods, his shoulders slumping as he stands. “Take your time. I’m not going anywhere. I’ll become a better man for you, Essie. I swear it.”

I don’t say a word as he leaves.

River answers his door on my first knock.

“You ready to get whooped?” I ask, holding up my bedazzled controller.

He opens up the door wider and gestures for me to come in. “Don’t forget who’s the pro here, Sis.”

We haven’t gamed together for years.

It used to be a regular thing for us, but then college and law school happened. I lost myself to studies and then working at the firm.

River’s pool house—he refuses to call it a cottage—smells like incense and cedar. The layout is like mine, but that’s where the similarities end. The vibe of his is what you’d see if you searched for homes with a Silicon Valley—slash—gaming aesthetic.

Movie and game posters hang on the walls. A bookcase is filled with high-end controllers and different gaming systems. A long desk along the wall has four computer screens.

A sectional is in the middle of the living room, but two gaming chairs are settled in front of us, closer to the TVs. Yes, he has two, side by side.

Gaming isn’t only River’s job. It’s also his passion.

He’d code and game even if he wasn’t paid for it.

Like me, he can afford to move into his own place, but he’s stayed here.

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