Page 49 of Wreckage

Adrian

One Year Later

I adjusted my black-rimmed glasses, exhaling as I scanned the rows of books.

Another year.

Another semester.

Another day without her.

It had been over a year since Elena left.

It was a year of silence, except for the small breadcrumbs Dad gave us.

"She’s doing well."

That’s all he ever said. There were no details, no location, and all we could do was hope she was happy. Zara said Elena never gave her a location, so I wasn’t sure if she was being a true blue friend or being honest.

Troy and I had learned to live without her—but not really. We still sent messages to our old group chat, even though they never delivered.

They weren’t for her. They were for us.

"Had the worst class today. You would have rolled your eyes so hard at this professor."

"Miss you. Hope you’re safe."

“I saw a blue butterfly today. It reminded me of you…”

"Tried to cook something. Burned it. You’d probably laugh at me. The house was filled with smoke. I heard sirens in the distance. I thought someone called the fire department on me…”

She never saw them, but it helped to send them anyway.

Neither of us had been with anyone else either.

We couldn’t. We didn’t want to.

Troy had taken time off from school, which set him back, but now he was finishing his final year.

We were better about sleeping apart, though sometimes, on bad nights, one of us still ended up in the other’s bed.

Neither of us mentioned it. Neither of us judged it. It just was.

I pulled a book from the shelf, flipping through the pages absentmindedly.

Troy was going out with his frat brothers tonight.

After everything, he’d slowly fallen back into his social life, and I was glad.

He seemed happier now, or at least, he was good at pretending to be.

On the other hand, I cut ties with Rachel long ago. She had been pissed, but I told her I wasn’t into it anymore.

These days, I preferred a quiet night with a book over a party.

I stuffed the book I was looking at back onto the shelf and kept going. I ran a fingertip along the book spines, looking for something new.

I turned the corner and ran straight into someone. My hands shot out, grabbing her waist before they could fall.

"Shit, I’m so sorry," I blurted, steadying her.

She straightened, and I felt my entire world tilt sideways.

Elena.

My breath caught in my throat.

She was staring up at me, those bright blue eyes wide, startled, and beautiful.

Here .

Real.

She looked different but the same.

Her face had more color, her hair was longer, and her eyes—God, her eyes were alive again.

I couldn’t breathe.

I couldn’t think.

"Butterfly?" I choked out.

She gave me a sweet smile, tucking her hair behind her ear.

"Hi."

The sound of her voice nearly brought me to my knees.

"What… what are you doing here?" I finally managed.

She lifted a book she was holding. My favorite book.

"Just getting a new book," she murmured.

I stared at it before huffing out a soft laugh.

"That’s my favorite," I said, feeling like an idiot. "Hope you like it."

Her smile widened just a little.

We stood there, staring at each other, neither saying a word.

I needed to say something, to ask anything to keep her here. But all I could say was probably the dumbest thing ever.

"Where have you been?" My voice was hoarse, my chest aching. "I’ve missed you so damn much."

She looked away, her expression sad. I watched her momentarily, praying she’d talk to me and not tell me she had to go. Finally, she met my gaze again.

"Maybe we can talk?" she said. "Over dinner?"

I nearly collapsed with relief.

"Yeah," I said quickly, nodding. "When?"

“Text me?” She gave me a small smile and backed away.

I didn’t take my eyes off her until she was out of sight. Then, before I even thought about it, I sent her a text that didn’t go to our group chat. It went directly to her.

Adrian: Want to have dinner tonight at my place? I’ll cook.

My phone vibrated almost immediately.

Elena:It’s a date. I’ ll be there at 7. :)

I nearly dropped my phone.

Adrian: A date. I can’t wait.

Then, I ran.

I had to get home.

I rummaged through the kitchen, pulling out ingredients and double-checking everything.

Lasagna.

She loved lasagna. I remembered that from our late-night talks on the plane.

I needed this to be perfect. No burning or fucking it up.

I was pouring sauce into a pan when Troy walked in.

He raised a brow. "What are you doing?"

I kept stirring. "Having company over."

Troy was quiet for a second. Then, carefully, he asked, "You got a date?"

I hesitated. I hated lying to him. But if Elena wasn’t ready, if she didn’t want us—I couldn’t put Troy through that heartbreak again.

So I nodded slowly. "Yeah."

Troy’s face fell. "You’re moving on?" he asked, his voice sounding hurt.

I put the spoon down. "I’m not giving up on Elena," I said softly.

Troy stared at me, searching my face, looking for something. Then, finally, he sighed and walked off, slamming his bedroom door shut.

Later, he returned, dressed in a clean button-up, ready to go out.

I glanced up. "Have fun."

Troy grunted, adjusting his watch. "You too," he said stiffly.

I took a slow breath. "Troy… I’m not doing this to hurt you. "

He stared at me, his lips pressed into a thin line.

Then, without a word, he turned and walked out, slamming the door behind him.

I clenched my jaw, shutting my eyes for a moment. I exhaled, rubbing the back of my neck.

This wasn’t just for me. This was for us.

I silently prayed as I slid the lasagna into the oven.

That Elena was back for good.

That she still wanted us.

That this was the beginning of getting our family back.