The elevator doors closed before Adrian could force himself to move.
He stood in the middle of the bedroom—hers and his—staring at the space she’d occupied minutes ago. Her faint perfume still lingered in the air, a soft citrus and warmth that once soothed him but now sliced through his chest like glass.
He had pushed her away.
More accurately—he had doubted her.
The worst thing he could have done.
His hands dragged through his hair as he paced across the bedroom, then back again, fighting the rising wave of panic. He wasn’t a man who panicked. He was the one people called when they were panicking.
But now, the person he wanted to run to was the one he’d driven out the door.
He grabbed his phone, thumb hovering over her name.
He could call. He could apologize. He could explain the
