Page 7 of Culmination
“You’ve changed.”
“You’ve noticed.”
Something unfathomable plays across his subdued features. Remorse? It can’t be.
“You are no longer as you once were,” he says. “Though, I suppose, that does not mean you are not what you should be.”
Ah, back to classic Adrian. Cryptic as ever.
“Adrian, I’m not here to play word games. What do you want? How did you find me? I will not ask again. I will turn and leave, and it will be the last you ever see of me.”
It’s as if Adrian’s noticing that I’m different has somehow given me confidence. It’s clear to me, possibly foolishly, that if he’s come here to hurt me, he’d already have done it. But I’m tired, I’m worn down, and I just want answers and for this to finally be over.
Adrian moves to take a step forward, but then he stops himself. His usually chiseled jaw is now more angular, and I wonder he last ate. Hollow cheekbones are on display as he sucks in a deep breath before he finally breaks his silence.
“Very well. When my sources informed me you were in Chicago, I knew you’d eventually visit this place. I just simply…waited you out. To be honest, it astonished me that this was not the first place you came.”
“You’ve been staking out a cemetery? Isn’t that a bit morbid, even for you?” I scoff.
His thumb and his forefinger pinch the bridge of his nose as if I’m trying his patience. Which I know I probably am. “Gabriella, I was desperate to find you. After…after everything. But you haven’t been alone for a single second.” He growls his frustration. “You’ve been with that man every waking moment, and I couldn’t get close. I knew this place was my only chance.”
“After?” I screech. “After what? After you tried to kill me?”
And there’s my friendly reminder that I’m likely dealing with a madman. I glance around, realizing there’s not another soul in sight. Even though I should feel apprehensive, something deep down tells me all will be well.
Adrian tsks, and God, if he doesn’t sound like his old self all over again. “This is neither the time nor the place to have this discussion.” His chest heaves as he releases a heavy sigh and then disrespects the dead by leaning back against a decrepit tombstone. His green eyes narrow, his mouth forming a tight line in an expression that lets me know he’s unhappy. He switches tactics, his voice soft when he calls, “Darling, you’re pregnant. If you’re going to be stubborn, at least think about the baby.”
“It’s not yours,” I blurt out, my cheeks instantly flaming at the cruelty in my tone.
I have no idea how he knows. Oh wait, he’s the tremendous all-knowing Adrian Morningstar. He probably hasresourcesat the hospital.
I watch in morbid fascination as his nostrils flare. Once remarkably brilliant emerald eyes are alarmingly dull and vacant. Then I lose them entirely while his head falls to rest on his crossed forearms perched on his bent knees. He doesn’t speak a word.
There’s a piece of me that wants to reach out to him. To tell him I’m sorry. The truth is, though, if I’ve hurt Adrian for falling in love with Rafe, Iamsorry. I’m just not sorry I’ve found family, found love, with someone else.
Finally, he inhales deeply, his broad shoulders lifting and then subsequently falling when he exhales a long, audible breath. When he looks up at me, his stoic mask returns.
“I am aware the child who grows inside you is not mine. That does not mean I couldn’t love it as such.”
The words shock me. Is Adrian saying what I think he’s saying? This man, who values ownership above all else, would love something that belongs to someone else? It’s impossible to even fathom.
Before I can seek clarification, he pushes up to kneel directly in front of me. He takes the handkerchief from his suit pocket. When he dabs the edge of my hairline, I flinch and suck in deep breath,. It’s strange, his being here, his taking care of me.
My letting him.
“I know you’re angry with me. You have every right to be. But please, if you’ll let me explain—”
I jerk back from him and glare. “Explain? No, Adrian.” I shake my head profusely. “The time for explanation is long gone. You had ample opportunity to tell me the truth. All the trips, the late nights, the aloofness. The coldness.”
He simply listens to my tirade without so much as an eye twitch. As if everything I’m saying is insignificant.
My eyes narrow. “Thepanties,” I remind him through clenched teeth.
The mask of indifference on his face contorts into an expression of pain. It’s too much for me to bear. I dart across the grass to scoop up my purse, and then I turn on my heel, hightailing out of the cemetery, hoping the cab driver is still there. Adrian’s quick to catch up, but he remains a beat or two behind me. Relief swells when I see the familiar yellow car and middle-aged driver waiting patiently, no doubt engrossed in some app on his phone.
“Gabriella.”
The softness in Adrian’s voice stops me in my tracks.
