IF ONLY YOU HAD LISTEN

Chapter 4: The Gunshot

Adrian’s POV

I'd been pacing the length of the sitting room for the better part of an hour by the time Vanessa arrived, and the moment she stepped through the door, I felt something in my chest loosen, just slightly, just enough to let me breathe.

"Thank you for coming," I said, running a hand through my hair. "I don't know what else to do. I've tried everything."

"I know." She set her bag down and settled onto the sofa, patting the space beside her like this was any other night. "Sit. Have you had your bath today? You look horrible."

I hadn't. I sat anyway, my knees bouncing with restless energy I couldn't shake loose.

"I need you to call her," I said. "Please, Vanessa. She won't answer me. She won't answer anyone. But she'll answer you."

Vanessa's expression flickered there and went so fast I almost missed it.

"Adrian—"

"You're her best friend." My voice cracked on the word, desperation bleeding through everything I tried to keep steady. "Eight years, Vanessa. She trusts you more than anyone alive. If you call, she'll pick. She has to."

"And say what?" Vanessa's tone stayed gentle, but something underneath it had gone taut. "Adrian, I love you both, but she's not ready. She won't want to hear my voice telling her to give you another chance."

"Then don't tell her that." I leaned forward, my elbows on my knees, my hands clasped together like I was praying. "Just get her on the phone. Let me talk to her myself. That's all I'm asking. Thirty seconds."

"She'll hang up the second she hears your voice." Vanessa shook her head slowly. "You know that. You know how betrayed she feels right now."

"I didn't betray her." The words came out rawer than I meant them to. "I don't even remember that night. Someone did this to me, Vanessa. Someone set this whole thing up, and I don't understand why nobody believes that."

"I believe you." Her hand found my arm, resting there, warm and steady. "I've always believed you, Adrian."

Something about the way she said it should have registered as strange. It didn't. Not then.

"Then help me," I said. "Please."

"Calling her won't help." Vanessa's hand slid slowly from my arm to my shoulder, her thumb tracing a small, absent circle against my collar. "She's not thinking clearly right now. Maybe the right thing to do is give her space, for now."

"I don't have time to give her space." I pulled back slightly, trying to keep the conversation where I needed it to stay. "The wedding is supposed to be tomorrow. Vanessa. Tomorrow. And now everyone in this city thinks I'm a monster."

"You're not a monster." Her voice dropped lower, softer, closer than it needed to be. "You're one of the best men I've ever known."

I should have noticed how close she'd gotten. I should have noticed the way her hand hadn't left my shoulder, the way she'd angled herself toward me on the sofa, the way her eyes weren't looking at me the way a friend's eyes should.

I was too far inside my own panic to notice anything at all.

Isabella’s POV

The house looked exactly the same as it always had, and somehow that was the worst part.

I sat in my car outside for a full five minutes before I found the courage to move, staring at the porch light Adrian always left on, the one he joked was for me, in case I ever showed up unannounced.

I used to.

I remembered the first night he brought me here, nervous in a way I'd never seen him before, apologizing for the mess that didn't exist, pouring me wine with hands that shook just slightly. I remembered the kitchen where we'd burned an entire pan of pasta trying to impress each other with cooking skills neither of us actually had.

None of that mattered anymore. I told myself that, gripping the steering wheel until my knuckles ached, until I finally forced myself out of the car and up the front steps.

I didn't knock.

I still had a key. Some stubborn, foolish part of me hadn't been able to give it back yet.

"Vanessa, I just need to talk to her." My voice broke on the last word, exhaustion and fear finally cracking through everything I'd been holding together since the notifications started that morning.

"I know." Her hand moved from my shoulder to the side of my face, tilting it gently toward hers. "I know you're hurting. Let me help you feel something other than that. Let me make you feel like a man, even just for a minute."

"What are you—"

The floorboard in the hallway creaked.

Vanessa's hand froze against my jaw, and I turned my head just as the door to the sitting room swung fully open.

Isabella stood in the doorway, her key still clutched in one hand, her face drained of every trace of color.

"Vanessa." Her voice came out small, disbelieving, nothing like the voice I knew.

I shot to my feet so fast the room spun, putting distance between myself and Vanessa like it might undo whatever Isabella had just walked in on.

"Isabella?" Her name cracked out of me, raw with panic. "This isn't— it's not what it looks like."

Her eyes moved from me to Vanessa, then back again, and I watched something in her face shatter into pieces I didn't know how to put back together.

"What are you doing with my fiancé?" she asked, and the words came out barely in a whisper, shaking so hard I could hear her heartbeat breaking underneath them.

Neither of us answered fast enough.

And in the silence that followed, I watched Vanessa rise slowly from the sofa, smoothing her dress with steady hands, wearing an expression of careful, practiced concern that didn't reach her eyes at all.

For the first time since I'd known her, I looked at Vanessa Brooks and felt something cold settle low in my stomach.

I couldn't yet understand why.