Chapter 9— The Echo of Too much❤️
1041 Words
Elena spent the next morning trying very, very hard not to think about Adrian Vale.
It was going terribly.
Every time she poured coffee, she remembered his voice in the elevator.
Every time someone brushed past her, she remembered how close they’d been.
Every time she inhaled, she remembered the scent of his cologne—clean, warm, expensive, and now disturbingly unforgettable.
She hated it.
She hated him.
Mostly she hated herself.
Kara, of course, was zero help.
“You’re glowing,” Kara announced the moment Elena entered the staff locker room.
“I’m sweating,” Elena replied.
“You have the post-Almost-Kiss aura.”
“There was no almost-kiss.”
Kara snorted. “Sure. And I don’t secretly read billionaire fanfiction.”
“You definitely do.”
“Exactly. And Chapter Eight of your life was 100% an almost-kiss.”
Elena threw her apron at her.
⸻
The Problem With Avoidance
Avoiding Adrian Vale should have been easy.
After all, the Towers had seventy-eight floors.
He lived at the top.
She worked in the middle.
But the universe apparently had a sick sense of humor.
Because as Elena walked toward the restaurant, mentally chanting I don’t care, I don’t care, I don’t care, she ran straight into a very expensive suit.
A very familiar very expensive suit.
Adrian froze.
Elena froze.
Her soul briefly exited her body.
He spoke first, voice low, careful.
“Elena.”
“No,” she said immediately.
He blinked. “No?”
“No talking. No looking. No whatever this thing is.”
A tiny smile appeared. “We’re doing the ‘ignore the entire emotional earthquake’ strategy?”
“Exactly.”
“I see.”
Pause.
He continued following her down the hallway.
She spun. “Why are you walking with me?”
“I’m respecting your desire not to talk.”
“That’s worse!”
“I’m doing my best.”
He absolutely was not.
She could tell by the way his eyes were warm and soft and frustratingly sincere.
⸻
The Unwanted Confession
“Elena,” he said, voice quieter now.
She froze again.
That tone.
That quiet, careful way he said her name.
It always felt like he was holding something fragile.
“I shouldn’t have said those things in the elevator,” he said.
She forced a shrug. “It’s fine.”
“It’s not. I made things harder for you.”
“You didn’t—”
“I did.”
His jaw tightened. “I don’t want to be another pressure in your life.”
She swallowed.
For a moment she saw it again—the man behind the suits, the pedigree, the skyscraper empire.
Lonely.
Tired.
Someone who didn’t know how to want something for himself… until now.
And she was absolutely the wrong person for him to want.
“We should forget it happened,” she said firmly.
His eyes flicked down, like the words stung.
“If that’s what you need,” he said.
“It is.”
“Then I’ll respect it.”
Her stomach twisted.
He was actually backing off.
Actually listening.
Why did that hurt?
⸻
Corporate Interference
Before she could answer, Marcus rounded the corner with the speed of a man who lived in a perpetual state of crisis.
“There you are—oh.”
His eyes shifted from Adrian to Elena and back again.
“Oh.”
Adrian sighed. “Not a word.”
Marcus raised both hands. “Absolutely, sir. Silent as a grave. A grave that has witnessed several suspicious interactions.”
“Marcus.”
“Right. I’ll be quiet.”
Adrian pinched the bridge of his nose, the picture of a man rethinking his entire life.
“Elena,” Marcus said, lowering his voice, “he skipped a meeting. A big meeting. Like multiple-boards-big.”
Elena’s eyes widened. “You skipped a meeting?!”
Adrian looked… caught.
Which was impressive, given he usually looked like nothing on earth could surprise him.
“It wasn’t intentional,” he said defensively. “I lost track of time.”
Marcus pointed at Elena. “He lost track of time.”
Elena wanted the floor to open up and swallow her.
“Go,” she said quickly, waving him away. “Go do your… billionaire things.”
Adrian hesitated—painfully, visibly.
But he nodded.
“As you wish,” he murmured.
He walked away.
Elena exhaled shakily.
Marcus lingered.
“You know,” he said softly, “I’ve worked with him a long time.”
She looked up.
“And I’ve never seen him like this.”
Then Marcus left too.
Leaving Elena alone in the hallway with:
• a pounding heart
• a guilty conscience
• and a feeling she absolutely did not want to name
⸻
The Line She Keeps Drawing
Back at the restaurant, Kara wheeled in with a tray of glasses.
“So?” she asked.
“So nothing.”
“So everything,” Kara corrected.
“Kara—”
“You like him.”
“I do not.”
“You do,” Kara insisted. “You just don’t want to.”
Elena clenched her jaw.
Kara put down the tray, growing serious.
“Elena… not everyone who wants you is trying to hurt you.”
That landed too deep.
Too painfully.
Too honestly.
Elena turned away before Kara could see her eyes sting.
She didn’t have time to feel something complicated right now.
She had to work.
She had to stay grounded.
She had to stay away from Adrian Vale.
And she had to stop wanting the one thing she absolutely couldn’t have.
⸻
But Wanting Doesn’t Stop
That night, as Elena wiped down tables long after closing, she found herself glancing toward the elevators.
As if she were waiting.
As if she hoped.
He didn’t appear.
He really was giving her space.
She hated how much she missed him.
She hated how much of the elevator—
the closeness,
the honesty,
the almost—
still echoed in her chest.
She closed her eyes, pressed a hand over her heart, and whispered to the empty restaurant:
“This is getting dangerous.”
And for the first time, she understood just how true that was.
- Writer
