Adrian’s POV
I didn’t like waking up with tension in my chest. But that’s what Rachel did, even from a distance. I stood at the kitchen island, pouring over hospital analytics, trying to center myself with numbers and efficiency. Still, my mind wandered back to the gala. Back to the way she had placed her hand on my arm like she belonged in my space. Like she was trying to rewrite something that never existed.
Elena's footsteps entered the room, soft but confident. She moved easily in our space now. She didn’t hesitate, didn’t wait for permission. It grounded me.
"You’re up early," she said, brushing her hand across my back as she passed.
"Couldn’t sleep," I replied.
She reached for the kettle. "Gala hangover?"
"More like secondhand scheming."
She raised an eyebrow but didn’t push.
