BETWEEN HIS SHEETS

CHAPTER 4: THE SHIFT

Adrian didn’t like losing control.

Carina could feel it in the way his messages changed — from playful to persistent, from teasing to oddly sincere. The man who once waited confidently now checked in twice a day.

Adrian: You really vanished.

Adrian: Did I do something wrong?

Adrian: I don’t like this version of you that doesn’t talk to me.

She read them slowly, one after another, her heart steady.

This was new.

Not because he suddenly cared — but because he was no longer being fed.

Carina didn’t rush to reply. She went on with her day. She took herself out for lunch, sat in the sun, and let the warmth touch her skin the way she used to let his attention do. She noticed how good it felt to belong to herself again.

That evening, her phone rang.

“Hey,” his voice came through, low and calm, but uncertain. “You’ve been quiet. That’s not like you.”

She smiled faintly. “Maybe I’m changing.”

There was a pause on the other end.

“Changing into what?”

She looked out the window at the fading sky. “Into someone who doesn’t wait anymore.”

Another silence. This one felt different — heavier.

“I miss you,” he said finally.

The words used to be everything.

Now they sounded incomplete.

“Do you miss me,” she asked gently, “or do you miss that I was always there?”

He didn’t answer right away.

Carina closed her eyes. She wasn’t angry. She wasn’t bitter. She was simply honest.

“I wanted flowers once,” she continued softly. “A walk. A story about your day. Something that wasn’t rushed.”

He exhaled. “You know I’m busy.”

She nodded, even though he couldn’t see it. “And I’m learning I deserve more than spare moments.”

The line went quiet.

That night, she didn’t cry.

She didn’t pace.

She didn’t replay his voice.

Instead, she opened a notebook and wrote down her goals — things that had nothing to do with being chosen:

A class she wanted to take.

A business idea she’d been postponing.

A trip she wanted to save for.

Each word felt like a step forward.

Her phone buzzed once more.

Adrian: I didn’t think you wanted more.

Adrian: I thought you were okay with how things were.

She typed slowly, carefully.

Carina: I was.

Carina: Until I realized being okay with less was teaching you to give me less.

She sent it and set the phone aside.

That night, for the first time in a long time, Carina slept without waiting for a message.

She slept with peace.

And somewhere between dreams and dawn, she understood something powerful:

Glow-ups don’t start in mirrors.

They start in moments where you decide —

I will no longer shrink for what doesn’t grow me.