THE STUD MAN

KILLING THE STUD MAN

Ollie arrived twenty-five minutes later carrying beer and absolutely no sympathy.

“You look terrible.”

Adrian opened the door.

“Nice to see you too.”

“I considered flowers.”

“Why didn’t you?”

“You’d misunderstand my intentions.”

Despite everything, Adrian laughed.

Ollie walked inside.

He noticed the untouched bottle of whisky on the counter.

Then Adrian’s phone.

Then Adrian.

“So?”

“She wants space.”

Ollie nodded.

“And?”

“And I gave it to her.”

“Good.”

Adrian frowned.

“That’s all?”

“What were you expecting?”

“I don’t know. Advice.”

“My advice is don’t do anything stupid.”

“Excellent. Very specific.”

Ollie sat on the sofa.

“Did you tell her you love her?”

Adrian stopped.

“How did you know?”

Ollie’s eyes widened.

“You did?”

Adrian sat opposite him.

“Yes.”

“And?”

“She loves me too.”

Ollie stared.

“I’m confused. Why do you look like somebody died?”

“Because she still asked for space.”

“Ah.”

Ollie opened a beer.

“That makes sense.”

Adrian glared.

“Whose side are you on?”

“Hers.”

“Wonderful.”

“And yours.”

“Impossible.”

“No. Amelia being right is currently good for you.”

Adrian leaned back.

“I didn’t cheat.”

“I know.”

“I didn’t want Vanessa.”

“I know.”

“I made one mistake.”

Ollie looked at him.

“No.”

Adrian’s jaw tightened.

“One lie.”

“No.”

“What exactly are you trying to say?”

Ollie placed his beer down.

“You’ve been making the same mistake for years.”

Adrian went silent.

“You think the problem is Vanessa,” Ollie continued. “It isn’t.”

“She started all of this.”

“No. She hurt you. You started everything after that.”

Adrian looked away.

“That’s unfair.”

“Probably. Still true.”

Ollie leaned forward.

“Do you know how many times I’ve watched you walk away from perfectly decent women because they started caring?”

Adrian said nothing.

“Lauren?”

His expression changed.

“Don’t.”

“Why?”

“That was different.”

“No, it wasn’t.”

“She knew what we were.”

“And then it became more.”

Adrian stood.

“I don’t want to talk about Lauren.”

“Exactly.”

Ollie remained seated.

“Because talking about Lauren means admitting you hurt someone who didn’t hurt you first.”

The room became silent.

Adrian walked toward the window.

London glittered beneath him.

For years, he had told himself he had been honest.

No promises.

No lies.

No commitment.

Therefore, no guilt.

But honesty about his intentions had not always made him kind.

Sometimes he’d recognised attachment and stayed because attention felt good.

Sometimes he’d disappeared instead of having difficult conversations.

Sometimes he’d treated women as proof.

Proof he was desirable.

Proof Vanessa had been wrong.

Proof Adrian Cole could never again be the man nobody chose.

“I never meant to hurt anyone,” he said.

Ollie’s voice softened.

“I know.”

“Then why does it sound like you’re saying I’m some terrible person?”

“I’m not.”

Ollie stood.

“You’re my brother. I know exactly who you are.”

Adrian looked at him.

“But at some point, being hurt stopped being an explanation and started becoming an excuse.”

That one landed.

Adrian looked away.

Ollie picked up his jacket.

“You want Amelia?”

“Yes.”

“Then stop trying to prove you deserve her.”

“What am I supposed to do?”

“Become someone who can actually have a relationship.”

Adrian frowned.

“I was doing that.”

“Were you?”

“Yes.”

“Until you got scared.”

Adrian had no answer.

Ollie walked toward the door.

“You can’t control whether Amelia comes back.”

Adrian swallowed.

“But you can decide who she’ll find if she does.”

The door closed.

Adrian remained by the window.

Alone with the truth.

⸻

For the first time in years, Adrian stopped running.

Not from work.

Not from life.

From himself.

He began with something simple.

He deleted numbers.

Not because Amelia had demanded it.

She hadn’t.

He deleted them because he no longer needed a collection of possibilities.

Then he found Lauren’s name.

His thumb hovered.

He hadn’t spoken to her in months.

He wrote:

I owe you an apology.

The reply came the next morning.

That’s unexpected.

Adrian stared at the screen.

You were right about me. I pushed you away because you got too close. You didn’t deserve how I handled it. I’m sorry.

Several minutes passed.

Then:

Thank you. I appreciate that.

Another message followed.

I hope whoever finally got through the locked door was worth it.

Adrian smiled sadly.

She is.

Lauren replied:

Then don’t lock her out.

Adrian closed the conversation.

No flirting.

No nostalgia.

Just closure.

For once, real closure.

⸻

Days became a week.

Adrian kept his promise.

He did not pressure Amelia.

He sent one message.

I’m here when you’re ready.

She replied:

Thank you.

Nothing more.

It hurt.

But Adrian allowed it to hurt.

He worked.

Visited his family.

Went running with Ollie.

Stopped attending parties he didn’t actually enjoy.

Marcus noticed by the second week.

“You’re becoming boring.”

Adrian looked up from his laptop.

“Good.”

Marcus sat opposite him.

“Seriously, how are you?”

“Better.”

“Amelia?”

“Nothing yet.”

Marcus nodded.

“You’re handling that surprisingly well.”

“I hate every second.”

“That’s more believable.”

Adrian smiled.

Then Marcus placed a tablet on the desk.

“What is this?”

“Your public relations problem.”

On the screen was another article using the Stud Man nickname.

Adrian’s expression hardened.

“We’re getting more media attention because of the expansion,” Marcus said. “Your personal reputation keeps appearing alongside the company.”

“So?”

“So we should clean it up.”

Adrian read the headline.

For years, the nickname had amused him.

Then flattered him.

Then defined him.

Now it felt like clothing that no longer fit.

“Arrange an interview.”

Marcus blinked.

“With who?”

“Whoever keeps asking.”

“You hate interviews.”

“I know.”

⸻

The interview was published four days later.

Most of it covered technology.

Growth.

Entrepreneurship.

Their plans for expansion.

Then came the inevitable question.

The journalist smiled.

“People online call you The Stud Man. How do you feel about the nickname?”

Months earlier, Adrian would have laughed.

This time, he didn’t.

“I think it’s stupid.”

The journalist looked surprised.

“You’ve never denied enjoying the reputation.”

“I did enjoy it.”

“What changed?”

Adrian paused.

“I did.”

The journalist leaned forward.

“So The Stud Man is retired?”

Adrian smiled faintly.

“He was never really a person.”

“What was he?”

Adrian thought of Vanessa.

Lauren.

Nina.

Camille.

Amelia.

“A defence mechanism with good tailoring.”

The journalist laughed.

Adrian did too.

But he meant every word.

⸻

Three weeks after Amelia asked for space, Adrian was leaving the office when he saw her.

She stood near reception.

His heart stopped.

She wore jeans, a long coat and that familiar expression that made him feel she could see through walls.

“Hi,” she said.

Adrian forgot every intelligent word in the English language.

“Hi.”

She walked toward him.

“You cut your hair.”

He touched it instinctively.

“Yesterday.”

“It looks good.”

“Thanks.”

Silence.

Adrian wanted to ask a hundred questions.

Have you missed me?

Do you still love me?

Are you coming back?

Instead, he said, “How are you?”

“Okay.”

“Good.”

“I saw the interview.”

Adrian winced.

“Unfortunately.”

Amelia smiled.

“Defence mechanism with good tailoring?”

“Marcus is never letting me forget it.”

“I liked it.”

Adrian looked at her.

Amelia’s smile disappeared.

“You meant it.”

“Yes.”

“Why?”

“Because I’m tired.”

“Of what?”

“Being him.”

Her eyes softened.

Adrian continued.

“I thought becoming that man meant nobody could hurt me again.”

“Did it work?”

“No.”

He smiled sadly.

“It just made sure nobody could love me without fighting through all the rubbish first.”

Amelia looked down.

“I didn’t change because I thought it would make you come back.”

“I know.”

“I hoped you would.”

“I know that too.”

“But even if you don’t…”

The words hurt.

Adrian forced himself to continue.

“I don’t want to live like that anymore.”

Amelia’s eyes filled.

She stepped closer.

“I’m still angry with you.”

“You should be.”

“I still don’t completely trust you.”

“I understand.”

“And rebuilding that could take time.”

“I have time.”

She looked directly into his eyes.

“No games?”

“No games.”

“No disappearing?”

“No.”

“No Stud Man?”

Adrian smiled.

“Definitely no Stud Man.”

Amelia’s lips trembled into a smile.

“Then maybe we could have coffee.”

Adrian’s heart hammered.

“Professional purposes only?”

She laughed.

“No.”

He smiled.

“No?”

“No.”

Amelia reached for his hand.

Adrian looked down as their fingers intertwined.

Three weeks earlier, he would have called this getting her back.

Now he understood it differently.

Amelia wasn’t a prize.

Love wasn’t a victory.

And trust wasn’t something he could demand simply because he had changed.

It had to be rebuilt.

Slowly.

Honestly.

Together.

Adrian squeezed her hand.

“Coffee sounds good.”

They walked toward the exit.

Outside, London was covered in rain.

Once, Adrian Cole had believed strength meant becoming impossible to hurt.

Now he understood something far more difficult.

Real strength was knowing someone could break your heart…

and choosing not to hide yours anyway.