WAITING FOR ADRIAN.
1324 Words
THE BILLIONAIRE'S CRAVING
CHAPTER 6: WAITING FOR ADRIAN
I woke up the next morning with a wide smile on my face.
It didn’t make sense. Nothing special had happened overnight, yet I felt… different. Light. Restless. Almost excited.
I stretched lazily on my bed, staring at the ceiling.
Adrian.
His name slipped into my thoughts so naturally, as if it had always belonged there.
A soft sigh escaped my lips.
I wanted to hear from him.
I wanted to see him.
But the problem was—I didn’t even have his contact.
“Great,” I muttered, turning over on the bed.
Why did it feel like I was missing something… or someone?
Shaking my head, I forced myself out of bed and headed to the bathroom. After a quick shower and brushing my teeth, I made my way downstairs to the kitchen.
The house was quiet. Too quiet.
I opened the fridge and took out eggs and orange juice.
Cooking had always been my escape. It helped me think… or sometimes, stop thinking altogether.
Within minutes, I made frittatas and poured myself a glass of orange juice.
I sat down and took a bite.
But my mind wasn’t on the food.
It was on him.
Adrian.
I found myself imagining things I had never allowed myself to think about before—romance, love, marriage… a future.
Children.
A home.
A life.
I let out a small laugh, shaking my head.
Since when did I start thinking like this?
I had never cared about love. Never needed it.
But now…
If it was Adrian, everything suddenly made sense.
“Tap, tap, tap.”
I blinked and turned to see my mother standing beside me.
“I’ve been talking to you,” she said, her brows slightly furrowed. “Are you okay?”
“I’m fine, Mom,” I replied quickly, forcing a smile.
“What were you daydreaming about?” she asked, watching me closely.
“Nothing… I was just thinking about—Adrian…”
The moment the name left my lips, I froze.
Her expression changed instantly.
“Who is Adrian?”
My heart skipped.
“Huh? How did you—”
“Are you out of your mind?” she snapped. “You don’t even hear yourself anymore?”
“I meant Acacia,” I said quickly. “It was just a slip of the tongue.”
But she didn’t look convinced.
In fact, she looked angrier.
“Listen to me carefully,” she said, her voice low but firm. “Whatever this is, end it now. You don’t know what you’re getting into, and I don’t want you to get hurt.”
Her words felt like a warning.
A serious one.
“I understand,” I said quietly. “Crystal clear.”
She studied me for a moment before sighing.
“I’m saying this because I care about you,” she added, her tone softer.
Then she walked away, leaving me alone with a heavy feeling in my chest.
Suddenly, my appetite disappeared.
I stared at my plate for a moment before picking it up and heading toward my younger sister’s room.
---
“Knock, knock.”
“Who is it?”
“It’s me,” I replied softly.
The door opened, and she stood there with an annoyed expression.
“What do you want?”
“I made frittatas,” I said gently, holding out the plate. “I know you like them.”
For a second, she just stared at it.
Then suddenly—
She threw it at me.
The plate hit my shoulder, and the food scattered across my clothes and the floor.
I froze.
“How dare you give me your leftovers?” she snapped. “Do I look like a beggar to you?”
Her words cut deeper than the impact.
Before I could react, Amethyst stepped out from behind her.
“Just because you’re the eldest doesn’t mean you can treat us like we’re beneath you,” she said coldly, pointing a finger at me.
I opened my mouth to speak… but no words came out.
They slammed the door in my face.
The sound echoed in the hallway.
For a moment, I just stood there.
Still.
Silent.
Then I slowly turned around—
And saw my brother and Mrs. Meena watching everything.
The sadness in their eyes said it all.
They had seen everything.
I forced a smile.
“I’m fine,” I said quickly, even though my chest felt tight.
Mrs. Meena stepped forward and pulled me into a warm hug.
“I told you not to bottle things up,” she said softly. “You don’t always have to be strong.”
“I’m okay,” I whispered, though my voice was barely steady.
“Teddy bear!”
Marshall ran toward me, tears already streaming down his face.
“Are you okay?” he asked, his voice breaking.
I knelt down and wiped his tears.
“I’m fine,” I said gently. “Why are you crying?”
“I don’t like seeing you hurt,” he said, hugging me tightly.
My heart melted.
“I’m going to my room,” I told him softly.
“I’ll come,” he said immediately.
“Not now,” I replied with a small smile. “Later.”
---
Back in my room, I sat on the bed, staring blankly at nothing.
Why did it always feel like this?
Why was I always the one pretending everything was okay?
A knock interrupted my thoughts.
“Come in,” I said, already knowing who it was.
Marshall entered with a wide smile.
“Guess what?”
“What?”
“I brought ice cream!”
I couldn’t help but smile as he handed it to me proudly.
“Take it,” he said. “And don’t cry.”
“Yes, sir,” I replied playfully.
We spent the next few hours talking, laughing, and joking.
For a moment, everything felt normal.
Safe.
“Lie down,” he said suddenly, patting his lap.
I rested my head on his lap as he gently stroked my hair.
“I don’t want you to ever be sad,” he said quietly. “When I grow up, I’ll take you away from here.”
I smiled softly.
“I already feel safe when you’re around,” I replied. “I’m lucky to have you.”
“I mean it,” he said seriously. “We’ll run away.”
I shook my head.
“No. No matter what happens, family stays together.”
He sighed. “Okay…”
His hand continued moving gently through my hair until I slowly fell asleep.
---
“Knock, knock.”
I stirred awake.
“Who is it?”
“It’s me,” Mrs. Meena replied.
“Come in.”
She walked in with a tray of food.
“I don’t want you starving yourself,” she said.
“Thank you… Mom,” I said softly.
She smiled warmly.
As she fed me, we talked about everything—life, random stories, and eventually… Adrian.
Her eyes lit up.
“So, my little girl has a crush?” she teased.
I laughed shyly.
“I think so…”
“Well, I’m happy,” she said softly. “Even if I die today, I’ll be glad knowing you found someone.”
“Don’t say that,” I said quickly. “You’ll be there to see my children.”
She smiled, wiping her tears.
---
Later that night, I sat alone, staring at my phone.
Waiting.
Hoping.
Nothing.
No call.
No message.
Just silence.
I hugged my knees, staring at the screen.
Why wasn’t he calling?
Didn’t he say…
Didn’t he—
I sighed deeply, lying back on the sofa.
Hours passed.
Still nothing.
Frustration slowly replaced hope.
“What a jerk…” I muttered.
I paused.
“…and yet, why am I still waiting for his call?”
- Writer
