The Spaces Between Us
1069 Words
Chapter Five: The Spaces Between Us
Isla avoided him for three days.
It wasn’t on purpose, at least not at first. A few client meetings off-site. One conveniently rescheduled team review. A late-night deadline that gave her the perfect excuse to work from home. But by the fourth day, when she found herself ducking behind a potted plant in the lobby to avoid sharing an elevator with Adrian Maddox, she had to admit it—she was hiding.
And she hated herself for it.
She wasn’t running because of something he did. She was running because of what she felt. That rooftop conversation had been too honest. Too raw. And Adrian hadn’t looked at her like she was an employee or an annoyance.
He’d looked at her like she mattered.
And that terrified her.
Because if she mattered to him—if he mattered to her—then there were stakes. And Isla had spent most of her adult life avoiding anything that came with strings attached.
Her heart wasn’t built for more disappointment.
She sat at her desk now, eyes burning from too little sleep, trying to edit a batch of digital mockups while her thoughts chased themselves in circles. Her phone buzzed. Jules again.
Jules: You good? Haven’t seen you in days. Beginning to think you joined a cult.
Isla: Maybe I did. The Cult of Avoiding Billionaires.
Jules: Weirdly specific. So it’s true—you’re ghosting Hot CEO?
Isla: I’m taking space.
Jules: Girl, he brought you croissants and vulnerability. That’s basically an engagement in Maddox-language.
She sighed. There was no point denying it.
Before she could reply, her desk phone rang.
“Isla Carter,” she answered automatically.
Melinda’s voice was tight. “Mr. Maddox has asked you to join the quarter branding strategy review. Fifth floor. Ten minutes.”
Her stomach flipped. “I wasn’t scheduled for that.”
“He added you.”
Of course he did.
---
The conference room was already full when Isla entered. Adrian sat at the head of the table, his expression unreadable as always, though she swore his gaze flicked to her the second she walked in.
She took the only open seat—directly across from him.
The meeting itself was standard: revenue breakdowns, marketing metrics, strategy goals. Isla focused on her notes, spoke when called upon, and avoided eye contact like her life depended on it.
But toward the end, when someone questioned the updated logo rollout, Adrian cut in.
“Ms. Carter’s designs reflect the direction this brand needs to go. Her vision isn’t just creative—it’s aligned with our future.”
The room went silent.
Isla’s head snapped up.
Adrian didn’t look at her. But his words landed like a thunderclap.
After the meeting, people shuffled out with quick goodbyes. Adrian stayed seated.
So did Isla.
He finally looked at her. “Avoiding me?”
“I was busy,” she said stiffly.
He raised an eyebrow. “Busy diving behind plants?”
Her cheeks flushed. “Okay. Maybe I needed space.”
“You said you didn’t want to hate me anymore.”
“I don’t.”
“Then what are we doing?”
She didn’t have an answer. Not a clean one. Not one that would protect her.
So she asked instead, “What do you want from me?”
His jaw tightened. “I don’t know.”
“That’s not helpful.”
He stood. “No, it’s honest.”
She followed him out of the conference room, tension simmering just beneath her skin.
“Then be honest about this,” she said when they reached the elevator. “Do you actually like me? Or is this some power thing? Some curiosity to chase?”
He turned to her. “I don’t play games like that.”
“No?” She stepped in front of him, blocking the elevator doors. “Because it kind of feels like you show up just enough to make me question everything, and then you disappear. Or worse—you approve my work like it means something more than it does.”
“It does mean more.”
“To you? Or to the company?”
He didn’t answer.
And maybe that was her answer.
She stepped aside.
The doors closed between them.
---
That night, Isla walked the city for over an hour. Past neon signs and busy cafés and couples laughing like they’d never known heartbreak. She didn’t realize where she was going until she found herself back at the garden.
The one Adrian had shown her.
The one that had been locked away for years.
She climbed the steps, her boots crunching against loose gravel, and sat on the edge of the stone fountain that hadn’t worked in decades. The air was cool and damp. The plants were unruly and beautiful.
Just like her life.
She didn’t hear him approach. But somehow, she knew it would be him.
Adrian stopped a few feet away, hands in his coat pockets.
“You’re the only person I’ve ever brought here.”
“I figured.”
“I didn’t do it for strategy. Or control. I did it because you saw it. Even when no one else did.”
She looked up at him. “And you thought that would make me stay?”
“No,” he said quietly. “I thought it would make you believe me.”
She rose, facing him.
“I don’t want to fall for someone I can’t trust.”
“You can trust me,” he said.
“Then prove it.”
He stepped closer.
“I want more than late nights and stolen glances. I want the truth. Even when it’s ugly.”
Her throat tightened. “You want that from me?”
“I want it with you.”
The vulnerability in his voice cracked something inside her.
She took a breath. “Then you need to understand something.”
He waited.
“I’m not perfect. I overthink everything. I push people away. And I don’t believe in fairy tales.”
“I don’t either,” he said. “But I believe in you.”
Her breath caught.
She didn’t answer. She just stepped into his space—slowly, carefully—until their hands brushed.
And when he didn’t pull away, she laced her fingers with his.
Not a kiss. Not a promise.
But a beginning.
- Writer
- chap_listContents
- likeADD