CHAPTER TWELVE
833 Words
I wasn’t thinking about him.
Not consciously.
I was just buying coffee.
That’s all.
Normal. Simple. Forgettable.
Exactly what I needed.
“Next!”
I stepped forward, pulling my card out of my bag.
“One cappuccino, please.”
“Name?”
“Lena.”
Routine.
Safe.
Nothing complicated.
Until,
“Adrian.”
My entire body went still.
No.
No, that-
That couldn’t,
I turned.
Slowly.
Carefully.
Like if I moved too fast, it wouldn’t be real, but it was.
He stood just a few steps away.
Same presence.
Same control.
Same man who ended everything with one message.
And for a second, neither of us moved.
This wasn’t a ballroom, no music, no audience, no roles.
No pretending.
Just us.
“Lena.”
My name sounded different now.
Lower.
Careful.
Like he wasn’t sure he had the right to say it anymore.
“Adrian.”
Same tone.
Same distance.
Silence followed.
Awkward.
Unfamiliar.
Wrong.
“I didn’t expect to see you here,” he said.
I let out a small breath.
“Yeah. Funny how that works.”
Another pause.
“Your coffee,” the barista called.
I stepped forward quickly, grateful for the distraction.
For something to do.
Something normal.
“Thank you,” I murmured, taking the cup.
But my hands weren’t steady.
I turned back.
He hadn’t moved.
Still watching me.
Still too aware.
“I should go,” I said.
Lie.
I didn’t want to stay.
But I didn’t want to leave either.
“Wait.”
One word.
Quiet.
But enough to stop me.
I closed my eyes for a second.
Then turned back.
"What?”
He hesitated.
Adrian Wolfe.
Hesitated.
That alone should’ve told me everything.
“I didn’t—” he started.
Then stopped.
Wrong approach.
He knew it.
I knew it.
“You didn’t what?” I asked.
My voice was calm.
His jaw tightened slightly.
“I didn’t mean for it to end like that.”
A small laugh escaped me.
Bitter.
Unplanned.
“That’s funny,” I said. “Because it ended exactly how you wanted it to.”
His expression shifted.
Just slightly.
“That’s not true.”
“Really?” I tilted my head. “Because from where I’m standing, it looks like you did exactly what you always do.”
“And what is that?” he asked.
“Run.”
Silence.
Sharp.
Immediate.
“I don’t run,” he said.
“You end things before they get real,” I corrected. “Same difference.”
“That’s not what happened.”
“Then explain it.”
The words came out faster this time.
Stronger.
“Explain why you couldn’t even tell me yourself. Explain why I got a message like I was some kind of business deal you were done with.”
His gaze dropped for a second.
Then back to me.
“That was a mistake.”
I froze.
“A mistake?” I repeated quietly.
“Yes."
The word hit different this time.
Not like before.
Not cold.
Not dismissive.
Honest.
“And the kiss?” I asked.
My voice barely above a whisper now.
A pause.
Longer.
Heavier.
Then,
"That wasn’t.”
My breath caught.
Silence filled the space between us.
But it wasn’t empty.
It was, loaded.
“Then why did you end it?” I asked.
There it was.
The real question.
The one neither of us wanted to ask.
His expression changed again.
Not cold.
Not controlled.
Just...tight.
“Because it stopped being what it was supposed to be.”
“And that scared you,” I said.
His eyes snapped to mine.
“It doesn’t scare me.”
Lie.
I stepped closer.
Just a little.
“Then what does?”
A mistake.
A dangerous one.
Because for a second,
I saw it.
That crack.
That hesitation.
That truth he didn’t want to say.
“You,” he said quietly.
Everything inside me stilled.
“What?”
“You,” he repeated.
Not loud.
Not dramatic.
Just,
real.
“You make this...unpredictable,” he added. “And I don’t do unpredictable.”
I swallowed hard.
“That’s not an answer.”
“It’s the only one you’re getting.”
There it was again.
The wall.
Back up.
I nodded slowly.
“Right.”
Because of course.
Of course he’d stop there.
Of course he wouldn’t go further.
“That’s why this doesn’t work,” he added.
I let out a quiet breath.
“No,” I said softly.
He frowned slightly.
“That’s not why.”
His gaze sharpened.
“Then why?”
I held his eyes for a second or two.
“Because you don’t let it.”
Silence.
And just like that,
I saw it.
He didn’t have an answer.
Again.
“I should go,” I said.
This time,
not a lie.
I turned.
Started walking.
“Lena.”
I didn’t stop.
Because if I did,
I wasn’t sure I’d be able to leave.
And this time,
I had to.
- Writer
