Page 34 of Only Fate

I gulp as we stare at each other.

Adrian’s smile is contagious, and like a yawn, you can’t stop yourself from doing the same.

This is so much like old times.

When everyone and everything else faded.

Our trance is broken when a ball flies over our heads.

“Sorry!” a kid yells, sprinting toward us to retrieve the ball and throwing it in the air before catching it. “My bad.”

“What’s your favorite birthday memory?” I ask Adrian.

“My eleventh birthday. My mom and abuela took me to Puerto Rico to meet my family there. My abuela gave me a tour of where she and my abuelo had lived before she moved to the States. It was eye-opening and taught me a lot about my family and what to be grateful for.”

A twinge of sadness passes through me. Adrian never met his father or grandfather. One night, he told me how he wished he could’ve known them, even if for a day, for the memories.

I can’t stop myself from reaching toward him and resting my hand on his. He uses his free hand to cover mine and squeezes it.

“I miss this,” he whispers.

“Miss what?”

“Talking with you.” His thumb runs over my hand. “You’ve always been a comfort to me, Essie. Like home, where I belong. When we shared the highs and lows of our lives, it always put me at ease. No one knows me as well as you do. I don’t think anyone ever will.”

This is dangerous.

Not only is it bad for my heart, but people might also be watching.

Brielle or Rhett might see there’s more to Adrian and me than simply two attorneys against each other.

“Time for cake!” a kid screams.

I yank my hand out of his hold and fall back in my chair.

Disappointment crosses Adrian’s features as I wipe my palm over my face.

Maybe taking this case against him wasn’t such a good idea.

My goal was to win, but now, my goal is to protect my heart from him.

14

One of the hardest things to do is grieve someone who’s still alive.

If only Essie and I had been alone during our last conversation and not at the party. If we had been somewhere private, I could’ve explained everything to her. She needs to know why I fled.

I was too immature to face my problems. I lost who I had been, and it took me a while to find myself again. I’m not entirely the Adrian she’d created a bond with forever ago.

After leaving the birthday party, I drive to my abuela’s.

Their home is a simple ranch with yellow siding and a large porch. I smile, noticing the personal touches she’s already added to the home. Pink flamingos are scattered across the lawn. A decorative duck, wearing a polka-dot raincoat, sits on the bottom porch step, and a sign with the Puerto Rican flag hangs on the front door.

My abuela sits on the porch swing, knitting, and Tucker lies at her feet. He barks when he sees me, dashing in my direction, and his tail wags.

“Hey, buddy,” I greet, petting him while we walk toward the porch.

“Hi, honey,” my abuela says when I kiss her cheek.

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