MINE ALONE

Chapter 21: Adrain

I had closed billion-dollar deals with a steadier hand than I had closed the bedroom door that morning.The silence between us lingered like a storm that refused to break.

Jude’s apology had followed me all day.

“I’m sorry.”

He’d said it so quietly.

As though he truly believed he’d done something wrong.

I hadn’t answered him.

Not because I wanted to punish him.

Because if I’d stayed another minute, I wasn’t sure whether I would have pulled him into my arms… or started the same argument all over again.

I wasn’t proud of either possibility.

⸻

Work should have distracted me.

Normally it did.

Today, it failed spectacularly.

“Sir?”

I looked up.

My assistant had repeated my name three times.

“The contracts?”

“What about them?”

“They’re waiting for your signature.”

“Oh.”

I reached for the folder, only to realise I’d been staring at the same page for nearly ten minutes.

My mind wasn’t in the office.

It was back in that ballroom.

Jude laughing.

That man smiling at him.

The hug.

Always the hug.

I signed the papers automatically.

My assistant hesitated.

“Is everything all right?”

“Perfectly.”

It was an obvious lie.

He wisely chose not to challenge it.

⸻

The more I replayed the evening, the more frustrated I became.

Not with Jude.

With myself.

Why had I reacted like that?

I had walked out of negotiations without a second thought.

Dragged him away before he’d even had a chance to explain.

Raised my voice.

Interrupted him.

Made him cry.

The memory of tears filling his eyes twisted something painfully inside my chest.

I’d never wanted to be the reason those beautiful eyes looked frightened.

Yet I had been.

That thought refused to leave me.

⸻

But another thought refused to leave, too.

He’d hugged another man.

My jaw tightened.

I knew, rationally, that there was nothing inherently wrong with greeting an old friend.

I knew Jude had done nothing deceitful.

He hadn’t hidden.

He hadn’t lied.

He hadn’t sneaked away.

Everything had happened in plain sight.

Logic understood all of that.

My heart…

Didn’t.

Something ancient and instinctive had surged through me before I could stop it.

Mine.

The word had echoed so loudly in my head that it drowned out everything else.

Not mine as a possession.

Never that.

Jude wasn’t an object.

He wasn’t someone to control.

He was the person who had freely chosen to love me.

But the instinct to protect what we had…

To guard the place he’d carved out in my heart…

It had arrived like lightning.

Fast.

Blinding.

And before I realised it, jealousy had become anger.

I leaned back in my chair and rubbed both hands over my face.

“When did you become like this?” I muttered to myself.

The office, of course, offered no answer.

⸻

At lunchtime my phone buzzed.

I opened our conversation.

No new messages.

I stared at his name.

I wanted to call him.

To hear his voice.

To ask if he was still crying.

To apologise.

Instead, I typed the safest thing I could think of.

Have you eaten?

His reply came a few minutes later.

Not yet. Busy morning.

Despite everything…

He answered gently.

No accusation.

No bitterness.

Just Jude.

I smiled despite myself.

Please eat something.

I almost added I miss you.

My thumb hovered over the screen.

Then I deleted it.

Coward.

I set the phone down.

⸻

By the time evening arrived, I had argued with myself more fiercely than I’d argued with anyone else.

You overreacted.

No, you were honest.

You frightened him.

I didn’t mean to.

Intent doesn’t erase tears.

He should understand how I feel.

How could he, when you wouldn’t even let him speak?

That one landed harder than the rest.

Because it was true.

He had tried.

Again and again.

And I’d silenced him every time.

Not because I wanted the truth.

Because I was afraid the truth wouldn’t match the story I’d already built in my head.

That wasn’t fair.

Not to Jude.

⸻

I arrived home and retreated to my office out of habit.

The room, once my refuge, felt unusually empty.

Across the desk sat the framed photograph I’d taken during our first weekend away together.

Jude wasn’t looking at the camera.

He was looking at me.

Laughing.

Completely unaware I’d captured the moment.

I picked up the frame.

“You trust me,” I whispered.

The words tasted bitter.

He had trusted me enough to give me his heart.

And the first time jealousy truly tested me…

I’d made him question whether he was safe with his own feelings.

I closed my eyes.

No.

I hadn’t been wrong for feeling jealous.

Feelings happened.

They weren’t something I could switch off.

But what I did with those feelings…

That had been my responsibility.

And I had failed.

I had every right to tell Jude what hurt me.

I had no right to make him too frightened to explain himself.

There was a difference.

A very important difference.

My pride fought back one last time.

He hugged another man.

Yes.

And if he’d simply said, “Adrian, this is my childhood friend,” would you still have been angry?

…

Probably not.

The answer came so quickly that I laughed once, humourlessly.

So this had never been about the hug.

It had been about fear.

Fear of losing something precious.

Fear whispered lies.

It told me that one embrace meant I wasn’t enough.

That one laugh meant I could be replaced.

None of it sounded reasonable now.

Yet in that ballroom, it had felt unbearably real.

Love, I realised, could make even the strongest person vulnerable.

The problem wasn’t that I’d felt afraid.

The problem was that I’d let my fear speak louder than my trust.

I looked at the clock.

Nearly twelve.

Enough.

Our relationship was worth more than my pride.

⸻

The bedroom door opened quietly.

Jude was already in bed, propped against the headboard with a book resting in his lap.

He wasn’t reading it.

He looked up the instant I entered.

Hope flickered across his face so briefly I almost missed it.

Then uncertainty returned.

“I…”

He started to sit straighter.

“I’m sorr—”

“No.”

I crossed the room before he could finish.

“You’ve apologised enough.”

He blinked.

“I have?”

“More than you ever should have.”

I sat beside him.

For a long moment, neither of us spoke.

“I’ve been thinking all day,” I said quietly.

“So have I.”

“I know.”

I reached for his hand cautiously.

When he let me take it, relief washed through me.

“I’m sorry.”

His eyes widened.

“I shouldn’t have spoken over you.”

I swallowed.

“I shouldn’t have left without letting you explain.”

His fingers tightened around mine.

“And I definitely shouldn’t have been the reason you cried.”

A tear gathered in his eye almost immediately.

“I hated that.”

“So did I.”

“I never want you to be afraid to talk to me.”

He nodded faintly.

“I wasn’t afraid to tell you the truth.”

His voice trembled.

“I was afraid you didn’t want to hear it.”

That sentence hurt more than I expected.

“I didn’t,” I admitted honestly.

“Not then.”

“I’d already convinced myself I knew what had happened.”

He looked down at our joined hands.

“He was really my childhood friend.”

“I believe you.”

“He moved overseas years ago.”

“I know.”

“We hadn’t seen each other in ages.”

“I know.”

His head lifted.

“You… know?”

“I made a few discreet enquiries today.”

A tiny, incredulous laugh escaped him despite everything.

“You investigated him?”

“I did.”

“Adrian…”

“I wasn’t taking any chances.”

He shook his head, half amused, half exasperated.

“You’re unbelievable.”

“I’ve been called worse.”

Silence settled again, softer this time.

“I need you to understand something,” I said.

“My jealousy… it wasn’t because I don’t trust you.”

He listened carefully.

“I trust you, Jude.”

“With everything I am.”

“But when I saw someone else holding you…” I let out a slow breath. “It stirred something I wasn’t prepared for.”

“I hated it.”

“I hated how quickly my mind imagined the worst.”

“I hated how possessive I felt.”

A small smile touched Jude’s lips.

“You do get possessive.”

“I do.”

“I noticed.”

“I don’t like other people touching the man I love.”

His cheeks warmed.

“I’m not saying you’re not allowed to have friends,” I continued.

“I’m not asking you to stop being kind.”

“I never want to control your life.”

He searched my face.

“But?”

“But if something bothers me, I need to tell you without hurting you.”

“And if something confuses you,” I added gently, “I need you to tell me before it grows into fear.”

He nodded slowly.

“I can do that.”

“So can I.”

For a moment, we simply looked at one another.

The distance of the past two days seemed to shrink.

Not disappear.

But shrink.

“I missed you,” Jude whispered.

The confession undid me.

I slipped an arm around him and drew him carefully against my chest.

“I missed you too.”

More than I had words for.

He rested his forehead against my shoulder with a quiet sigh.

“I still think you’re a little crazy.”

I laughed for what felt like the first time in days.

“Only a little?”

“A manageable amount.”

“I’ll take that.”

His laughter was soft, but real.

And hearing it again felt like the first ray of sunlight after a storm.

I pressed a gentle kiss to the top of his head.

“I’ll probably still get jealous sometimes.”

“I know.”

“But next time…”

I held him a little closer.

“…I’ll remember that loving you means trusting you enough to listen first.”

He smiled into my shoulder.

“And I’ll remember to introduce my old university friends before they accidentally cause an international incident.”

That earned a genuine laugh from both of us.

The ache wasn’t completely gone.

Neither was the possessiveness that lived quietly inside me.

But neither of us wanted perfection.

We wanted each other.

And tonight, that was enough.