CHAPTER SIX
620 Words
Chapter Six:The Distance Between Us
But this time, not the cold kind. Not the tense kind.
This one was... familiar. Too familiar.
Every morning feels the same now.
Adrian left before sunrise. I’d wake up to a quiet house, a note on the counter, and a freshly brewed cup of black coffee, no sugar, just like the man who lived there.
Today’s note was as emotionless as the others.
“Meeting at Langford Holdings. Back by evening”.
– A.S.
No “hello.”
No “hope you’re adjusting.”
Just information.
I sighed, tossing the note aside, then stared at the untouched croissant on the table. Esther had started adding pastries to breakfast. Maybe she thought sugar would soften the tension.
Well, it didn’t.
By noon, I’d answered three fake emails, reread the NDA twice, and rearranged my bookshelf in alphabetical order, twice.
Then I found myself standing in front of the piano.
The same grand piano Adrian leaned against that first night.
I ran my fingers over the polished keys, letting one low note hum through the room. It echoed, rich and sad.
“He doesn’t play.”
I jumped.
Esther stood in the hallway, holding a tray of tea. “The piano. It’s for show.”
I swallowed. “Of course it is.”
She stepped inside and set the tray down. “Are you okay?”
I hesitated. “Have you ever gotten used to this house?”
She smiled, a little too knowingly. “You don’t get used to Mr. Stone. You just learn how to exist around him.”
That stuck with me.
….
Later that evening, I heard the door click.
Adrian.
He moved through the foyer like a shadow, coat draped over one arm, phone to his ear. His tone was curt and Efficient.
“Yes, I reviewed it. No, I don’t care about their board’s concerns. That is none of my business. Tell them we’re pulling out if the terms don’t change by Friday.”
He caught my eye, gave the slightest nod, then walked straight past me into his study.
I stood there, frozen in my own home. Or... what was supposed to feel like home?
Fifteen minutes passed by.
Then thirty.
I hovered by the hallway, then knocked lightly on the open study door.
He didn’t look up. “Yes?”
“I just... wanted to say welcome back.”
His fingers paused over his keyboard. “Thank you.”
Another silence. Longer this time.
“Did something happen today?” he asked, eyes still fixed on his screen, working.
“No. Just... quiet.”
He nodded once. “That’s how it’s supposed to be.”
I nodded too, even though it wasn’t.
I turned to leave.
“Ava.”
I paused. His voice was softer this time. Not warm, but less guarded at least.
“If you ever need anything... You can just ask.”
I smiled faintly. “Even if it’s just... company?”
He finally looked at me.
His eyes weren’t cold.
Just tired and a bit dull“For that,” he said, “you might have to wait until I remember how to be one.”
I didn’t know what to say to that.
So I said nothing and walked away.
Back in my room, I stared at my reflection. I didn’t recognize her anymore.
The girl in the borrowed life, wearing silence like silk.
I had everything on paper.
Security. Status. Money.
But somehow, it still felt like I had nothing at all.
And as I lay down that night, the thought haunted me.
How do you stay whole?
…
When you're married to a man who feels like a locked door?
- Writer
