Page 45

Adrian

A nother two weeks came and went. The hell we existed in persisted. I say existed because this wasn’t fucking living. The life was sucked out of me the moment we were separated all those weeks ago.

One whole month since she’d left.

Four weeks of voicemails, unanswered texts, prayers that continued to go unanswered, and hoping for something that never came. It felt like an eternity of hell. Nothing made the pain lessen. They said time healed all wounds, but I felt like her absence was only making my broken heart fester.

I had expected anger from her. I had even prepared myself for hatred. Hell, she’d said as much to me anyway.

But I hadn’t expected nothing.

And somehow, nothing was so much fucking worse than anger. At least in anger, she spoke to us. In nothing, it was just a vast abyss of hopelessness.

Chase finally came back with an update. It took him way too fucking long. Each time Troy would text and ask, he’d say he didn’t have anything, and she hadn’t been seen on campus. When we asked Dad, he said she was safe and resting at home. Her ankle was bothering her, and she was finishing her classes online.

I eagerly waited while Troy read the text. He handed it over to me. I expected him to say she was at her favorite coffee shop and a photo of her drinking that latte with the whipped cream she loved. At least, I thought she loved it. I always saw her with it. Instead, it was the same shit as always.

Chase: She still hasn’t been on campus.

My stomach sank.

She wasn’t avoiding just us. She was avoiding everything. To hell with online classes. This was more than that. This wasn’t like her. It wasn’t Elena. She hung out with Zara Phillips. There was no way the pair weren’t at least getting pizza or cups of coffee. Just no fucking way.

That realization had my pulse racing and my gut twisting with dread.

I went to Dad, hoping he’d have something—anything—for me.

“Have you talked to her?” I asked, trying to keep my voice steady.

He hesitated. That single pause told me everything I needed to know.

“Dad, come on. We haven’t heard anything from her. Please. Just… anything?”

He sighed, crossing his arms.

“I have,” he admitted. “She’s… taking some time to herself.”

I clenched my jaw, my hands balling into fists.

That wasn’t good enough. I was sick of the runaround.

I said as much.

“I don’t believe that for a moment. I know her. She’s hiding.”

She wasn’t just taking time. She was disappearing. She was slipping away. My biggest fucking fear.

I was helpless to stop it .

“Dad, I love her. Like, she’s more than my stepsister to me. To Troy. Please?—”

“Adrian, I don’t need to know the details of what happened after the accident. Whatever it was, though, was done out of human instinct, out of fear. She knows this. You need to understand it, too. I know you think you have feelings beyond what a normal brother and sister have?—”

I shook my head at him. “It’s not out of trauma. I’m sick of hearing that. I loved her before that accident. I was just too much of an idiot to do anything about it. Don’t gaslight me into thinking it meant nothing. I know how I feel.” I pounded my chest. “I can’t stop feeling it. It was real.”

He gave me a sad look and nodded. “You’re right. That was wrong of me to say. If you say you love her, if Troy says he does, then…” He looked away. “Then respect her. Let her choose. Don’t force her to do it. That’s how you lose a good woman.”

I stared at him for a moment. “Is—did you make Mom choose?” He’d never really told me the story of Mom. I never pushed for it either, scared of what the tale would even be.

“I did, but it was for the best. It’s better to tear off the band-aid sometimes. This isn’t that situation. This is Elena. If you love her like you say you do, if Troy loves her, give her the time she’s asking. When she’s ready, she will come to you.”

“Promise?”

“I do, son. Have some faith.”

“You sound like Troy,” I said with a soft, sad laugh.

He gave me a gentle smile. We were quiet for a moment before I spoke again.

“Do you ever talk to Mom?” We’d never spoken about it before. She’d walked out and didn’t look back.

He took a sip of his coffee and sat quietly before answering me.

“I called her when you and Troy didn’t show up. I told her when we got the call that the plane lost communication. Adrian, your mom left because she wanted to. We weren’t what she wanted. Time never changed that for her.”

His words were a punch to my guts .

“She didn’t care?” I asked tightly.

“Maybe in her way. Maybe it was a shock. I asked her if she wanted to wait with me for more news, but she said she didn’t. I asked her if she wanted an update. She said she did. I called and left voicemails after that through it all. She never responded. When you were found, I told her we had you guys. In a voicemail, of course. I haven’t heard from her since the first call. I can’t tell you how she feels, son. I’m sorry.”

I swallowed hard. “OK.”

He got to his feet and hugged me. “I love you, Adrian. You and Troy.”

“I love you too, Dad.” I hugged him back.

We pulled away from one another, and I left him to his coffee, seeing the sadness on his face. He hated to tell me those things, but I needed to hear them. It helped, even if it hurt.

Troy and I kept trying, although we slowed it down after I spoke to Dad. We’d only sent a message each. They remained undelivered to her. It was radio silence, as always.

Endless, deafening silence that threatened to suffocate us.

I sat on my bed, staring at my phone, feeling like an idiot for thinking she’d answer. Pushing up my new black-rimmed glasses, I sighed and looked over at Troy, who was lying beside me, scrolling on his phone.

“She meant it,” I murmured.

Troy glanced at me. “What?”

I gripped my phone so tightly that my knuckles ached. “When she said she hated us.”

Troy didn’t respond at first.

“No, she didn’t,” he finally said.

I scoffed, bitter and exhausted. “How do you know? Everything happening suggests she wasn’t fucking lying, man. ”

Troy sighed and set his phone down, rolling onto his side to face me. He winced at the brace on his knee.

“Because people who truly hate you don’t just disappear,” he said quietly. “In my experience, they play with you like you’re a defenseless bug trapped in their web. They make sure you know exactly how much they hate you as they toy with your emotions and genuinely fuck your life up. That’s not Elena. That, my brother, is every other fucking woman I’ve been with. Not Elena.”

I let that sink in. Maybe he was right. Perhaps she didn’t hate us. But she sure as hell didn’t want us, either. Her silence proved that.

And that felt just as bad.

After another week of silence, I was done. Troy and I sat down and talked. We weren’t waiting anymore. We were going to her.

Dad tried to convince us to stay home and told us to take a semester off to give ourselves more time. I couldn’t stand it anymore. Even if we kept our distance, we needed to be near her if she needed us.

We packed our bags, gave a few final interviews to the press—carefully dodging any mention of Dean—and then left.

Dad gave us a brand-new SUV for the trip. I knew why. We’d vetoed a plane ticket immediately. The only other option was a train or a bus, and that was a hell of a trip to make in either of those.

Dad helped us stock it full of food. He didn’t say anything. He simply started packing. Maybe we’d lost our minds a bit, but we’d each taken to having new quirks regarding food and drink. I had it stored all over the damn place. Troy was worse.

I knew Dad didn’t want us to leave, but we needed to return to our lives. The longer we stayed here, the more we were reminded of everything. Getting back to normal would help us; at least, that’s what my therapist said.

Dad’s eyes were misty when we said goodbye.

“Call me,” he murmured, gripping my shoulder tightly .

I nodded. “We will.”

He looked between us, his brows furrowed in worry.

“I don’t want you boys to go,” he said. “Not when you’re still healing. Troy, your knee…”

I swallowed hard.

“I know,” I whispered. “But we have to, Dad. We need this to heal.”

“I’ll be fine,” Troy added. “My knee is almost perfect again. I don’t even need the crutches anymore.”

Dad sighed and pulled me in for a hug, his arms tight around me. He did the same to Troy, squeezing him just as hard.

Finally, we climbed into the car, pulled onto the road, and left.

The road stretched out in front of us for what seemed like forever. We drove off and on, switching out when one of us got too tired. Our goal was to travel as fast as possible. Music played softly on the radio, but neither of us really listened.

We started talking about Mom midway through the trip.

I hesitated before asking. “You ever wonder why she never reached out?”

Troy was quiet for a long time before sighing, his fingers tightening around the steering wheel.

“Because she’s not our mom,” he said.

I looked at him sharply. Dad had said as much when I’d talked to him about it. I didn’t know Troy felt that way, too.

His jaw was clenched as he focused on the road.

“She left,” he continued. “Years ago. And Lacey—Lacey was our mom. Not her.”

I swallowed, my throat tight. His words hurt because we hadn’t been great to Lacey, but she’d been so kind and good to us, always baking birthday cakes and giving the best Christmas gifts. I hated we hadn’t given her a chance.

Dad had told us long ago that our real mom had started a new family, and we had siblings we’d never met. I wondered if they even knew about us, if she ever thought about us, even now after everything, if she ever cared or just pretended the entire time.

Troy must have read my mind because he let out a bitter chuckle.

“She didn’t call because we don’t exist to her,” he said. “She didn’t return Dad’s calls because she doesn’t fucking care, Adrian.”

I hated that it made sense. I hated that it was true.

I went silent and stared out the window.

Maybe it was time to let her go.

We drove for miles, talking about everything and nothing. Eventually, the conversation circled back to Elena.

“What’s the plan?” I asked.

Troy scoffed. “Go to her apartment and beg until she talks to us?”

I let out a weak chuckle. “Sounds solid if we planned on doing that. We agreed to give her the space she wanted and be nearby in case she needed someone.”

He sighed. “I know, but I also think we should prove we’re not pieces of shit and are serious about this. Let's show up and let her know in person that we’re waiting for her and that we will be right there the moment she tells us she’s ready.”

“And if she’s never ready?”

He tightened his hands on the wheel. “She will someday. Faith, Adrian. Me and you. Together. We’ll wait.”

“You’ll stay with me?” I asked, my voice soft.

“I can’t leave,” he said. “It doesn’t feel right anymore."

The therapist I saw once called it separation anxiety and had even given me pills for it.

I took them at first, but they didn’t do shit for me except make me tired.

I wasn’t going to fix my anxiety with meds. I would fix it by getting Elena back—our missing puzzle piece.

Making our family whole again would fix what was wrong. I knew it to my bones.

As we neared the city, I let out a slow breath. My nerves had slowly started to make me jittery the closer we got to home.

“What if she rejects us?” I asked softly, asking what I’d been asking on repeat.

Troy was silent for a long time.

I could feel the weight of his thoughts because they were similar to mine. He didn’t say them aloud like I did.

“We just keep begging,” he murmured. “We talked about this. It’ll be OK.”

I turned to him, my heart pounding. Troy glanced at me, his voice steady.

“We do whatever it takes,” he continued. “And if it takes forever, so be it. Are you in for the long haul with me?”

“Until the death,” I whispered.

“Everything will be OK,” he repeated as if he had just kept saying it would make it manifest.

I let out a breath, accepting it. Because if that was what it took—If forever was the price to get her back?—

Then so be it.

I would accept this punishment.