Chapter 3: The Crest*
1103 Words
The elevator creaked to a stop on the 12th floor.
Lila stepped out first, not waiting for Adrian. She couldn’t breathe in there. Not with him that close, not with his scent bringing back everything she’d spent years burying.
“Ms. Morrison,” Maya was waiting outside the design office, eyes wide. “The board moved the meeting up. They want you in Conference Room B now.”
Lila glanced back. Adrian was right behind her, his expression unreadable.
“Fine,” she said. “I’ll be there in two minutes.”
Maya looked between them and wisely said nothing.
Adrian stopped her with a hand on her elbow. Just a touch. Enough.
“About tonight,” he said quietly. “8 PM. Don’t be late.”
Lila pulled her arm away.
“I don’t take orders from you anymore, Adrian.”
“Not an order,” he said. “A request from your CEO. The board wants to meet the designer behind ‘Second Skin.’ If you don’t show, they’ll kill the project.”
That hit.
Five years of work, and he could still shut it down with one word.
“Fine,” she said through gritted teeth. “8 PM. At The Crest.”
He nodded once, and for a second something almost like relief crossed his face. Then it was gone, replaced by that cold CEO mask.
---
*7:58 PM — The Crest Restaurant*
The Crest was Adrian’s restaurant. Of course it was.
Lila stood outside, staring at the glass doors. She’d worn black. Simple, safe. Nothing that would remind him of before.
She was ten minutes early. She’d planned to leave if he wasn’t there by 8:05.
At 8:00 sharp, the doors opened and he stepped out. Suit, no tie. Hair slightly messy like he’d run his hands through it.
He looked at her and stopped walking.
“You came,” he said.
“You said the project would die if I didn’t,” Lila replied. “I’m here for ‘Second Skin,’ Adrian. Not for you.”
He didn’t argue. Just gestured to the door.
“After you.”
Inside, the restaurant was quiet. Reserved for him, obviously. The head waiter led them to a corner table overlooking the city.
Candles. Soft music. The exact kind of setup that made Lila want to walk out.
“This isn’t a date,” she said as she sat down.
“I know,” Adrian said. He sat across from her. “But I wanted to talk where we wouldn’t be interrupted.”
Lila folded her hands on the table. “Talk about what?”
“Why you left.”
There it was. Five years, and he was still stuck on that.
Lila picked up her water glass. “We’ve been over this.”
“No, we haven’t,” Adrian said. “You left a note that said ‘I can’t do this anymore.’ That’s not an explanation, Lila. That’s a goodbye.”
She set the glass down hard. “It was enough.”
“Enough for what?” His voice dropped. “Enough to make me think you used me? Enough to make me think you were pregnant and ran because you didn’t want my name on the birth certificate?”
Lila froze.
Her glass slipped from her fingers.
It hit the tablecloth with a soft thud. Water spilled across the white linen.
Adrian saw it immediately. His eyes locked on hers.
“What did I just say?”
“Nothing,” Lila said too quickly. She grabbed a napkin, blotting at the spill with shaking hands. “You’re wrong. I wasn’t pregnant.”
“Lila.”
He said her name like he used to. Like it meant something.
“Stop,” she said. “Just stop.”
The waiter chose that moment to appear with menus. Lila waved him away.
“We’re not ordering.”
Adrian didn’t look at the waiter. His eyes never left her face.
“You’re lying,” he said quietly. “I can see it.”
Lila stood up.
“This meeting is over.”
She grabbed her bag and moved to leave. Adrian was faster. He caught her wrist, gently but firmly.
“Don’t run,” he said. “Not again.”
Lila yanked her hand back like he’d burned her.
“You don’t get to tell me what to do.”
“I get to ask why my wife left me without a word,” Adrian said. “I get to ask why you look at me like I’m going to hurt you. I get to ask why you’re terrified of me knowing the truth.”
Lila’s chest tightened.
He was close. Too close.
If she said one more word, she’d break.
“Goodnight, Mr. Blackwood,” she said, using his last name like a wall.
She walked out before he could stop her again.
---
*Outside The Crest*
The night air hit her like a slap. Lila leaned against the wall, trying to breathe.
He knew. Or he suspected.
Five years, and one slip with a water glass almost gave it away.
Her phone buzzed.
Unknown number again.
*Unknown:*
Stop running, Lila. I’m not going to hurt you.
Lila deleted it without replying.
She couldn’t risk it. Not when Leo was asleep at home with the nanny.
Her car was two blocks away. She started walking, needing to move, to get away from him, from the restaurant, from the memories.
“Lila.”
She closed her eyes.
Of course he’d followed her.
Adrian stepped in front of her, blocking her path.
“I’m not letting you leave like this,” he said.
“Then what?” Lila said, her voice breaking. “Are you going to make me talk? Are you going to drag it out of me?”
“No,” Adrian said. He looked tired. Older than he should at 35. “I’m going to wait.”
Lila stared at him.
“For what?”
“For you to trust me again.”
The words hit harder than anything else he’d said tonight.
Trust him? After what happened? After he signed the divorce papers without even asking her why?
“I don’t think that’s possible,” she whispered.
“Maybe not,” Adrian said. “But I’m not giving up this time.”
He stepped aside, letting her pass.
“Go home, Lila. Get some sleep. We’ll talk tomorrow.”
Lila didn’t answer. She walked past him, each step feeling like she was leaving a piece of herself behind.
She made it to her car before the tears came.
-
- Writer
