The smell of roasted coffee beans filled the kitchen. I walked in, grabbing my bag from the chair. A ceramic plate slid across the island counter, stopping right in front of me.
Egg whites. No yolks. Next to it sat a mug of dark roast with exactly one splash of milk.
I shoved the plate back toward the center of the island.
"Don't do this," I told him.
"Do what?" Adrian didn't look up from the sink.
"Make me breakfast."
"You live here. I live here. I cooked."
"It's not just food. You made it exactly how I like it."
"I'm not going to ruin good eggs with yolks just to prove a point."
"Stop acting like things are the same between us."
He picked up his own mug. "I'm not acting. I just remember."
My jaw locked. The casual confidence in his voice infuriated me. He didn't sound arrogant; he sounded certain.
"Well, forget it," I snapped.
"Hard to do."
I grabbed my purse and walked out without touching the food.
By five o'clock, my skull throbbed. I stood in the middle of the open-plan office, clutching a red-penned folder.
"This proposal is garbage, Elena." Mr. Gable tossed a stack of spreadsheets onto a nearby desk. The papers scattered. "Did you even run the Q3 projections? Because a middle schooler could map a better financial model. I don't pay you to guess."
Co-workers stared at their keyboards. I kept my chin up.
"The marketing budget shifted yesterday," I explained. "I had to adjust the baseline."
"I don't want excuses. I want numbers on my desk." Gable pointed a thick finger at my face. "You'll revise them now, and you won't leave until it's perfect."
"Is there a problem here?"
Julian stepped into the fluorescent light of the bullpen. He wore a tailored navy suit, commanding the space instantly. He stepped right up to my manager, blocking me from Gable's view.
"Who are you?" Gable demanded.
"The guy who's going to buy this floor just to fire you," Julian said smoothly. "Now lower your voice when you speak to her."
"Excuse me?" Gable sputtered.
Julian reached out to grab Gable's elbow. "Let's take a walk."
I grabbed Julian's wrist. I dug my nails into his cuff.
"Stop," I ordered.
Julian glanced back at me, his smile faltering. "He's disrespecting you."
"This is my job," I said, keeping my voice low but firm. "Not your boardroom."
Julian stared at my fingers on his sleeve. He raised his hands in surrender, flashing a flawless, empty smile. "Of course, babe. Whatever you want."
We left the building in silence. The moment the heavy glass doors sealed behind us, the warmth vanished from his face.
"Were you this mad when Adrian stood up for you?" Julian asked.
I stopped on the sidewalk. "What?"
"When your ex played the hero. Did you embarrass him in public, too?"
"This has nothing to do with him."
"Doesn't it?" Julian stepped closer. "You let him live in your apartment. You let him drink in your kitchen. But you won't let me handle a middle-manager."
"I handle my own career. I don't need a savior."
"Everyone needs a savior, Elena. You just prefer his brand."
Julian laughed, a dry, hollow sound. He opened the passenger door of his town car.
"I have a dinner meeting. I'll see you later."
I needed my passport. The corporate retreat required international travel, and I had ten minutes to find it before the HR deadline.
I tore through the hall closet. My hands hit a heavy cardboard box shoved in the darkest corner. Adrian's old stuff. He never took it when he moved out three years ago.
I dragged it into the living room and ripped off the packing tape.
No racing trophies. No expensive sneakers.
A faded pink hair tie sat right on top. The one I lost at the carnival when we were seventeen. Beneath it lay two crumpled movie tickets from a Tuesday matinee. A birthday note written on a napkin. A pair of scuffed, cracked knee pads from the first time I tried ice skating and nearly broke my leg. He had laughed at me that day, but he kept the pads.
My chest tightened. I dug deeper.
At the very bottom rested a cracked smartphone. The screen was spider-webbed with shattered glass.
I plugged it into the wall charger. The screen flickered to life. No passcode. The messaging app sat open.
Dozens of drafts filled the screen. None of them ever sent.
*Miss you today.*
*Seeing you talk to Noah made me unhappy.*
*You say I don't love you, but I don't know how to make you believe me.*
My fingers shook. I stared at the glowing text. Three years ago, I begged him to give me a single reason to stay. He gave me silence. Now, holding the exact words I would have killed to hear, anger boiled in my stomach.
The front door unlocked. Adrian walked in, dropping his keys on the entry table.
He stopped dead when he saw the open box. His eyes snapped to the phone in my hand.
The calm mask shattered. He crossed the room in two strides and snatched the device from my palm.
"Who told you to go through my things?" His voice cracked like a whip.
I stood up. I didn't back away. "I was looking for my passport."
"In a taped box?"
"You kept all of this. You wrote all of that. Why?"
Adrian shoved the phone into his pocket. "It doesn't matter."
"It matters to me!" I shoved his chest. He barely moved. "You let me walk out that door! You let me pack my bags and leave! If you cared so much, why didn't you say a single word?"
"You wouldn't have listened."
"You didn't even try! You just watched me go!"
A bitter laugh escaped his throat. He glared down at me, his jaw clenched tight. "Because you liked Noah first."
The anger drained right out of my veins. The room spun.
"What?"
"My teammate." Adrian's tone turned vicious. "You went to his games. You wore his jersey. You laughed at his stupid jokes. You only dated me because he transferred away."
I stared at him. The sheer absurdity of it paralyzed my tongue.
"Noah?" I whispered.
"Don't play dumb, Elena. You settled for me."
"You thought I loved Noah?"
"I knew you did."
Tears spilled over my eyelashes. They burned my cheeks. "I've liked you since I was sixteen! I used Noah to trick you into noticing me! Are you an idiot?"
Adrian froze. The hostility vanished from his features, leaving behind absolute shock. He took a half-step forward.
"You used him?" he asked, his voice barely a rasp.
"Yes!" I screamed. "I did everything to get your attention! I faked an entire crush just so you would look at me, and you punished me for it for seven years!"
He reached out, his bandaged hand hovering inches from my face. His fingers trembled.
"So, I'm the one who came later?"
Julian stood in the open doorway. He held two paper bags from a high-end Italian restaurant. He didn't look angry. He looked entirely too calm.
He stepped inside and kicked the door shut. The click echoed through the silent apartment.
"I brought dinner," Julian announced. He set the bags on the kitchen island. He walked straight past me and stopped directly in front of Adrian.
Julian tilted his head, a terrifying smile spreading across his face.
"She liked you since she was sixteen," Julian said. "How did you still manage to lose her?"
Adrian didn't flinch. He met Julian's gaze, his posture rigid.
"At least I didn't find out by investigating her," Adrian replied.
My stomach dropped. The air left my lungs.
I whipped my head around to stare at Julian.
