Chapter 24
The guest room door clicked shut behind me with a soft, final sound. I had slept for what felt like a geological age, a deep, dreamless plunge that left my body heavy but my mind painfully clear. The cashmere sweater Adrian had given me was soft against my skin, the borrowed sweatpants loose around my hips. I felt like a ghost in my own life, dressed in another man’s kindness, standing in the silent hallway of a fortress. The main living space was washed in the pale, clean light of morning. The city sprawled beyond the glass, indifferent and glittering. And there he was. Adrian sat at the long, minimalist table, a newspaper folded beside him. Two places were set with simple white china. A carafe of coffee steamed between them, next to a plate of pastries, a bowl of berries, eggs. It was
- Writer
