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The car turned into the crumbling parking lot of her apartment complex. Georgia’s fingers dug into her arms as James pulled to a stop, the contrast between Adrian’s world and hers stark in the harsh afternoon light.
Georgia stepped out of the car first, her worn sneakers crunching on loose gravel. The familiar smell of garbage and motor oil hit her nose as she helped Theo climb down from the seat. His small hand gripped hers tightly as he hopped onto the cracked pavement.
Adrian’s door opened with a soft click. From the corner of her eye, she caught his methodical scan of the building, taking in the water stains creeping down the concrete walls, the rusty air conditioning units rattling in windows, the overflowing dumpster in the corner. He stood out against her shabby world like a falcon among chickens, sleek and dangerous against the familiar dirt.
“Kitty!” Theo’s excited squeal pierced the tension as he pulled at Georgia’s hand, pointing toward a scraggly orange cat darting behind a garbage can. Georgia tightened her grip on his fingers, guiding him toward the building entrance.
“Not now, baby. We need to go inside.”
The sound of a door squeaking open made Georgia’s stomach clench. Mr. Peterson emerged from the laundry room. His determined stride faltered when he spotted them, his weathered face hardening as he took in the scene. The luxury car idling behind them, Adrian in his thousand-dollar suit, Georgia in her cleaning uniform.
Mr. Peterson’s lips pressed into a thin line as he approached. “Well, Miss Phillips. You finally figure out how to pay what you owe?”
Georgia’s cheeks burned. She kept her voice low, conscious of Theo’s presence. “I’m working on it.”
Mr. Peterson’s gaze shifted to Adrian, his eyes narrowing as he sized up the expensive cut of Adrian’s suit, the quiet authority in his stance. “Guess you got yourself some help.”
The temperature seemed to drop several degrees as Adrian met Mr. Peterson’s stare. Something in Adrian’s expression made the landlord’s confidence waver, though he squared his shoulders, clinging to what authority he had left.
“Just make sure it’s sorted by the end of the week,” Mr. Peterson muttered, the words carrying a bitter edge. He turned toward the next unit, but not without casting one final glance at Adrian, unease clear in the set of his shoulders.
Georgia kept her head down, focusing on guiding Theo inside the building and up the stairs toward their door. The weight of Adrian’s silence pressed against her back as she fumbled with her keys, the metal warm and slick in her palm. She couldn’t bring herself to look at him, to see the judgment or calculation in his eyes as he took in the life she’d built without him.
Georgia pushed the door open, wincing at the familiar squeak of rusted hinges. The apartment’s musty air hit her nose, a mix of instant coffee, fabric softener, and the lingering scent of last night’s dinner. Her fingers fumbled for the light switch, casting a harsh glow over the cramped space.
A pile of Theo’s dinosaurs scattered across the floor caught her eye. She moved toward them automatically, her body seeking refuge in the familiar routine of tidying up. The plastic toys clattered as she gathered them, her hands trembling enough that a small T-rex slipped from her grip.
“Here, baby.” She gestured to the worn cardboard box in the corner. “Put your toys away.” She dropped the dinosaurs inside.
Theo dropped to the floor beside his toy truck, wheels spinning against the scuffed linoleum. “Can I play five more minutes?” Georgia nodded.
She kept her eyes down, but Adrian’s shadow seemed to seep into every corner of the tiny room, thick and suffocating as fog. The weight of his gaze burned against her back as she straightened a stack of coloring books on the coffee table—really just an old trunk she’d found at a yard sale.
The bed took up one corner, separated from the main space by a faded sheet hanging from a rope strung across the ceiling. Herthroat tightened at the sight of Theo’s favorite blanket tangled with her own threadbare comforter.
“The truck goes zoom!” Theo’s voice cut through the silence, pure joy in his sound effects as he rolled the toy across the floor. The plastic wheels caught on a deep scratch in the linoleum, making the truck bounce.
Georgia’s fingers clenched around a stuffed bear, its fur matted from too many washings. She focused on straightening its crooked bow tie, desperate for something to do with her hands.
“Georgia.”
Adrian’s voice sliced through her determined bustling. She froze, the bear clutched to her chest like a shield. His tone carried that familiar edge of command, subtle but unmistakable.
She drew in a slow breath, steeling herself before turning to face him. He stood just inside the doorway, his tailored suit a stark contrast to the peeling wallpaper behind him. His jaw was set, eyes dark with barely contained frustration.
“Why?” The single word carried the weight of three years of questions.
Georgia’s heart hammered against her ribs. She set the bear down carefully, buying seconds to gather her thoughts. “I had to protect him.” Her voice came out steadier than she expected. “Your world—it would have crushed him.”
She gestured at their surroundings, the makeshift curtain, the stack of secondhand books, the dented kettle on the hot plate. “This isn’t much, but it’s safe. No politics, no power plays, no Vincent waiting to use him as leverage.”
Georgia watched as Adrian’s attention fixed on Theo, his stillness absolute except for the subtle rise and fall of his chest. Their son remained oblivious to the weight of his father’s stare, lost in his own world as he guided the battered truck across uneven flooring, adjusting his path for the grooves, small fingers gripping the toy with careful focus.
Something shifted in Adrian’s expression, barely perceptible, but Georgia had spent enough time studying his face to catch it. The sharp edges of his features softened, the calculation in his eyes giving way to something raw and unguarded. It was the look of a man seeing his own reflection for the first time, recognition dawning slow and inevitable.
Her stomach twisted as she observed this transformation. Hope fluttered dangerous wings in her chest, but she forced it down, wrapping her arms around herself. She’d learned the hard way that hope was a luxury she couldn’t afford, especially not now when Theo’s safety hung in the balance.
Adrian remained motionless, but tension radiated from his frame. His fingers flexed at his sides. Guilt crashed over her as she watched him process the reality of what she’d kept from him. Maybe she’d been wrong. Maybe staying away hadn’t protected anyone at all.