CHAPTER 4

WHAT WE NEVER SAID

After that evening, I couldn't stop thinking about Adrian's hand leaving mine. It was such a small thing that I felt ridiculous for remembering it, yet my mind kept returning to the same moment. The laughter around us, my mother's teasing voice and the way Adrian had slowly pulled away as though he had suddenly remembered something. I tried to convince myself that I was imagining things.

Maybe he had only wanted to reach for his drink. Maybe the conversation had made him uncomfortable because our parents were being too dramatic. There were a hundred possible explanations, and I clung to every single one of them because the alternative was too painful to consider.

Adrian, however, behaved as if nothing had happened. The next morning, he sent me a picture of his breakfast and complained about the coffee. I replied with a laughing emoji, and the familiar rhythm of our conversations returned almost immediately.

He told me about a meeting he was dreading, I complained about one of my students and somehow, we ended up arguing over whether pineapple belonged on pizza. By the time we stopped talking, I had almost forgotten the dinner entirely. That was how Adrian always made things easy. He never gave me enough time to sit with my doubts.

A week later, I found myself waiting outside his office with two cups of coffee. Adrian had forgotten his lunch again, and because I knew him too well, I had also picked up his favourite sandwich. I stood near the reception desk while his assistant smiled knowingly at me. He'll be happy to see you, she said.

I smiled because Adrian was always happy to see me. At least, I thought he was. When he finally stepped out of his office, he was in the middle of a phone call. His eyes found me immediately, but instead of smiling, he paused. It lasted less than a second before he turned away and continued speaking.

When he ended the call, he walked toward me and took the coffee from my hand. You came all the way here for this? I held up the sandwich and told him I had brought that too. Adrian looked at it and sighed. Elena, you don't have to keep doing this. I blinked, genuinely confused.

Doing what? Bringing me food. Waiting for me. All of it. His words were so unexpected that I laughed. What are you talking about? I've been doing this for years. Exactly. The smile slowly disappeared from my face. Adrian seemed to realize how his words sounded and immediately shook his head. That's not what I meant.

Then what did you mean? He rubbed the back of his neck and looked away. I don't know. I stared at him until he finally sighed. You're always here, Elena. Is that a problem? I asked. No. Then why are you saying all this? He had no answer. After a moment, he reached for my hand and gave me a small smile. Come on.

I have ten minutes before my next meeting. He pulled me toward his office before I could ask anything else. I followed him. I always followed him.

That evening, I stood in front of the mirror in my bedroom, staring at my reflection. I had spent the entire day thinking about Adrian's words. I knew I was always there. I knew I was part of his routine. But was that a bad thing? I picked up my phone and opened our conversation.

There were years of messages between us. Photos, jokes, arguments and hundreds of meaningless conversations. I scrolled back through them until I reached the beginning of our relationship.

The first message Adrian had sent me after we slept together was simple. Are you awake? I had laughed when I saw it and replied, You were the one who told me to go to sleep. I changed my mind, he had answered.

I remembered how my heart had raced when I read that message. I had been so sure then. So sure that whatever existed between Adrian and me was real. Maybe I had simply been too sure.

The following weekend, Adrian invited me to a party with some of his friends. I almost refused. Lately, I had started feeling like I was forcing myself into places where I no longer belonged. But when Adrian called and asked if I was coming, I heard the slight disappointment in his voice and changed my mind.

The party was crowded and loud, and Adrian disappeared almost immediately after we arrived, pulled away by a group of friends from work. I stood near the bar, nursing a glass of wine, when a woman I had never met approached me. You're Elena, right? I nodded, and she smiled. I've heard a lot about you. From who? I asked.

The woman laughed. Adrian. My chest warmed slightly. What did he say? She laughed again. That you're basically his wife. I nearly choked on my wine. Relax. I'm joking. I forced a smile, but the joke stayed with me.

When I finally found Adrian, he was standing with his friends. One of them spotted me and immediately called him over. There she is. Your wife has come to collect you. Everyone laughed. I looked at Adrian, expecting him to join them, but he didn't. Instead, he glanced at me before looking away.

The moment passed quickly, yet something inside me shifted. Later that night, we drove back to his apartment in silence. Adrian kept one hand on the steering wheel while the other rested near the gear shift. I watched the lights outside the window and tried to decide whether I should ask him about the party.

Finally, I couldn't take it anymore. Do you hate it when people joke about us? Adrian's hands tightened slightly on the steering wheel. What? You heard me. He kept his eyes on the road. I don't hate it. You didn't look very happy. It's just a joke. I turned toward him. I know. I was asking if you hate the joke.

Adrian remained silent for a while. The silence stretched between us, growing heavier with every passing second. Then he finally said, Elena, sometimes I think you take these things too seriously.

I felt something inside me go still. What things? He glanced at me briefly before looking back at the road. The marriage jokes. The way everyone acts like we're some destined couple. All of it. I stared at him, waiting for him to laugh or tell me he was only joking. He didn't.

Adrian exhaled and tightened his grip on the steering wheel. We grew up together. That's all. The words settled between us. That's all? I asked quietly. He didn't answer.

I turned toward the window and pressed my lips together, refusing to let him see how much those three words had hurt. For the first time, I wondered if Adrian had been trying to tell me something for years. Maybe I had simply been too in love to listen.