Five Years, Then Goodbye

Chapter 2

ELENA

FIVE YEARS EARLIER

I still remember the exact moment I found out I was pregnant.

It was raining that afternoon, the kind of heavy rain that turns the entire city gray and makes everything outside the windows look distant. I had been sitting on the bathroom floor for almost twenty minutes, staring at the pregnancy test in my hand as if the two pink lines might disappear if I looked at them long enough.

They didn't.

I was pregnant.

With Adrian's child.

The first thing I felt wasn't fear.

It was happiness.

A stupid, overwhelming kind of happiness that made me laugh through my tears because somehow, despite everything that could go wrong, I had just been given something I had secretly wanted for years.

A family with Adrian.

I called him immediately.

He answered on the fourth ring.

"Elena?"

"I need to see you."

There was a brief pause before he asked, "Is something wrong?"

"No."

I smiled even though he couldn't see me.

"Something is very right."

He was quiet for another moment.

"Come over."

That was how I ended up at his apartment that evening, standing in his living room with my heart pounding against my ribs.

Adrian was standing near the windows when I walked in.

He turned toward me, and the moment our eyes met, I knew something was different.

He looked nervous.

Adrian Vale rarely looked nervous about anything.

"You're here," he said.

I nodded. "I told you I needed to see you."

He walked toward me, then stopped several feet away. "I know."

There was something strange about his voice.

I frowned.

"What is it?"

Instead of answering, Adrian reached into his pocket.

My heart nearly stopped when he lowered himself onto one knee.

For a second, I just stared at him, then I laughed. A breathless, disbelieving laugh.

"Adrian..."

He held out a small black box. "Elena Laurent, I know our relationship hasn't been easy."

My smile faltered slightly.

He continued. "But I know about the baby."

Everything inside me went still. "You knew?"

"I figured it out." His eyes softened. "And I don't intend to walk away."

I pressed my hand over my mouth.

He opened the box.

Inside was a ring.

It wasn't extravagant. It was simple, elegant and beautiful, with a small diamond catching the warm light from the chandelier above us.

"I want you to marry me."

My eyes filled immediately. "You want me?"

He looked almost confused by the question. "Of course."

I laughed again, this time through tears.

I didn't think.

I didn't ask what kind of marriage he meant.

I didn't ask whether this was because of the baby.

I didn't care.

All I heard was that Adrian wanted me.

After years of wondering whether he would ever choose me, he was on one knee in front of me, asking me to become his wife.

"Yes," I whispered.

His shoulders relaxed.

"Yes?"

"Yes."

I dropped down in front of him and wrapped my arms around his neck.

He caught me, laughing softly as I cried against him.

For those few seconds, I genuinely believed my life had finally fallen into place.

Then I looked over his shoulder.

And saw her.

Vivian stood near the hallway.

She wasn't smiling. She wasn't surprised. She wasn't even looking at me.

Her eyes were fixed on Adrian, and suddenly, something inside me shifted. She had been there.

The entire time.

I pulled away slowly.

Adrian noticed my expression.

"What?"

I stared at Vivian.

She straightened when our eyes met.

"Nothing," I said.

But it wasn't nothing.

Because suddenly, I remembered things I had chosen not to notice before.

The way Vivian always knew where Adrian was.

The way she could walk into his apartment without knocking.

The way Adrian answered her calls even when he ignored mine.

The way she touched his arm whenever they were together.

The way Noah's pregnancy announcement had made her unusually quiet.

The way Adrian defended her whenever I questioned their closeness.

She had always been there.

I had simply never allowed myself to look closely enough.

And now that I had, I couldn't unsee it.

Adrian stood up and slipped the ring onto my finger.

I looked down at it.

Five years ago, I was happy.

I thought I had finally won.

I thought Adrian had chosen me.

I didn't understand that sometimes, a person can give you a ring without giving you their heart.

PRESENT DAY

The bathroom door opens.

I move before I even think about it. I drop Adrian’s phone carefully on the bed and step away just as he walks out.

A towel is wrapped around his waist, water dripping from his dark hair and running down his bare chest.

Once upon a time, the sight would have made me forget whatever we had been arguing about.

I would have stared.

I would have smiled.

I would have wanted him to pull me close.

Tonight, I feel nothing except disgust and disappointment.

His phone buzzes again.

Adrian glances toward the bed, then he walks over and picks it up.

The change in his expression is immediate. A smile touches his lips. A real one.

The same smile I saw in the photograph earlier. The same smile I used to believe belonged to me, then he looks at me, and the smile disappears.

His expression hardens.

"I have to go."

I stare at him. "Where?"

"It's important."

"What is?"

"I'll explain later."

"When?"

He doesn't answer.

He simply walks toward the closet.

I stand there as he gets dressed, fastening his shirt, putting on his watch and grabbing his jacket.

I know where he's going.

I don't need to ask.

It has always been her.

Vivian.

It has always been Vivian.

He walks past me without another word.

The bedroom door closes behind him. And just like that, I am alone. Again.

I sit on the edge of the bed and stare at the floor. I don't cry. I think I've cried enough tonight. Instead, I reach for my phone.

My fingers scroll through my contacts slowly.

Past friends. Past old classmates. Past numbers I haven't called in years.

Until I find the one I've been avoiding.

My father’s number.

I stare at it.

For five years, I have refused to call him. Five years ago, I chose Adrian over my family.

I told him I didn't need his money, his protection or his approval. He told me I would come back. I told him he was wrong. Now, five years later, I realize he was right about at least one thing.

I tap the number.

The call rings for only a few seconds before someone answers.

There is a brief silence.

Then comes the familiar voice I haven't heard directed at me in years.

"Elena?"

My throat tightens.

I close my eyes.

"Father."