Noah’s By the third day of working directly with Adrian, I had learned one important thing.
He was very good at making it difficult to remember we had a complicated past.
At work, Adrian was simply my employer.
My project lead.
My boss.
Nothing more.
His voice in meetings carried the same measured authority it always had, no trace of the man who had pinned me against a wall three weeks earlier, no trace of the man who texted me goodnight.
It was almost unsettling how completely he could compartmentalize the two versions of himself.
And I was grateful for that.
Mostly.
I sat at my desk, reviewing the latest reports when a message appeared on my screen.
Adrian: Conference room.
Ten minutes.
I stared at it.
Then I sighed.
“Here we go.” I gathered my documents and headed upstairs.
The conference room was already occupied when I entered.
Two members of the research team were discussing the project while Adrian stood near the window, reading through a report, the morning light catching the edge of his profile in a way that made it briefly, annoyingly difficult to focus on anything else.
He looked up when I entered.
“Good.” I took a seat.
The meeting began.
Everything went smoothly until one of the researchers pointed to a section of the proposal, tapping the page twice as if the gesture alone might strengthen his case.
“We could increase the testing period.” I shook my head.
“That would delay the entire schedule.” He looked at me.
“Then what do you suggest?” I opened the file in front of me.
“We adjust the sampling process instead.
It’ll give us the additional data without extending the timeline.” Adrian looked at the proposal.
“Explain.” I walked everyone through the changes, pulling up the relevant figures and pointing out where the adjusted sampling would intersect with the existing timeline without creating bottlenecks further down the process.
When I finished, the room was quiet.
Then Adrian nodded.
“Do it.” The researcher looked surprised.
“That’s it?” “That’s it.” He turned toward me.
“Good work.” My heart skipped.
I quickly looked back at my notes.
“Thank you.” It was ridiculous.
It was two words.
A professional compliment.
Yet somehow, coming from Adrian, it felt different — like praise I’d been quietly hoping for without admitting it, even to myself.
After the meeting, everyone left except me.
I gathered my documents.
“You don’t have to stay.” I looked up.
Adrian was still sitting at the table.
“I wanted to finish reviewing the proposal.” “You can do it tomorrow.” “I’m almost finished.” He nodded, though I caught the flicker of something like reluctance in the way he didn’t immediately go back to his own papers.
I continued working.
For several minutes, the room remained quiet.
Then Adrian spoke.
“How are Amelia and Clara?” I looked up.
“They’re fine.” “And Ethan?” A small smile appeared on my face.
“He’s been enjoying having his aunts around.” “I can imagine.” “He keeps asking about you.” Adrian smiled.
“He still remembers me?” “Very clearly.” “Good.” I looked at him.
There was something different in his expression.
Not the controlled executive everyone else saw.
Something softer.
Something almost vulnerable — the same look he’d worn the night he carried Ethan up the stairs at his house, careful and unguarded, as though he’d forgotten anyone might be watching.
Then he looked away.
“I’ve missed him.” I swallowed.
“He misses you too.” Neither of us spoke for a moment.
Then Adrian’s eyes moved toward me.
“And you?” My heart stopped.
I knew exactly what he meant.
I looked down at the report.
“I’ve been busy.” A faint smile touched his lips.
“That’s not an answer.” “It’s the only one I’m giving.” He nodded.
“Fair enough.” There was no push behind it, no attempt to corner me into saying more, and somehow that restraint made the moment feel heavier than if he had pressed.
I gathered my papers.
“I should go.” “Alright.” I reached the door.
Then I heard him say my name, quiet enough that I almost mistook it for something I’d imagined.
“Noah.” I turned.
“Yes?” His expression was serious.
“I meant what I said before.” “What?” “When you’re ready, we need to talk.” I looked at him.
“About the past?” “About everything.” I didn’t know what to say.
So I simply nodded.
“Okay.” I left the room.
But as I walked down the hallway, I couldn’t shake the feeling that Adrian wasn’t going to wait forever.
He had been patient for a month, patient in the courtyard, patient in the elevator — but patience, I was learning, was not the same as indifference.
And neither was the truth.
I returned to my office and tried to focus on my work.
Tried.
The conversation with Adrian kept replaying in my mind.
When you’re ready, we need to talk.
I knew what he meant.
There were too many unanswered questions between us.
The past.
The mark.
Ethan.
And the night I had spent so desperately trying to forget.
Every time I thought I had successfully buried it under spreadsheets and deadlines, some small detail — the particular way he’d said my name, the pause before “everything” — would surface again and undo all of it.
I pushed the thoughts aside and opened another report.
I needed to work.
That was the reason I had returned.
Not Adrian.
Not the past.
Work.
My phone vibrated.
I glanced at it.
A message from Amelia.
Amelia: Ethan keeps asking when you’re coming home.
I smiled.
I typed back.
Noah: Tell him I’ll be home after work.
Another message immediately appeared.
Amelia: He also asked if Uncle Adrian is coming.
I closed my eyes.
Of course he did.
I typed: Noah: Please don’t encourage him.
Amelia replied with a laughing emoji.
I shook my head, a small, involuntary smile tugging at my mouth despite everything.
My phone vibrated again.
This time, it wasn’t Amelia.
Adrian: Is everything alright?
I stared at the message.
I hadn’t realized he could see me checking my phone through the glass wall of his office.
I glanced up instinctively, and sure enough, he was still at his desk two floors down the hallway, not looking at me directly but clearly aware of exactly where I was.
I typed: Noah: Yes.
Ethan was asking about you.
The reply came almost instantly.
Adrian: Again?
I smiled, picturing his eyebrow raised somewhere down the hallway even though I couldn’t see him.
Noah: Again.
There was a pause.
Then: Adrian: I hope I can see him soon.
I stared at those words, reading them over twice before letting myself feel anything about them.
Before I could respond, another message appeared.
Adrian: Only if you’re comfortable with it.
My chest tightened.
He was still giving me a choice.
I slowly typed: Noah: Maybe this weekend.
I stared at the message before sending it, my thumb hovering over the small blue arrow for what felt like far too long for two simple words.
Once it was gone, I immediately wondered whether I’d made a mistake.
My thumb hovered over the screen, half tempted to send a follow-up walking it back, some safer version that left more room to change my mind.
But strangely, I didn’t regret it.
The rest of the afternoon passed without incident.
By the time I finished work, the building had begun to empty, the hallways thinning out until only the occasional set of footsteps echoed past my door.
I packed my things and headed toward the elevator.
“Going home?” I turned.
Adrian stood a few steps behind me.
“Yes.” He nodded.
“Ethan?” “He’s with Amelia and Clara.” “I see.” Something in his voice made the two words sound like they carried more weight than the sentence should have allowed.
The elevator doors opened.
We stepped inside.
Neither of us spoke.
The silence wasn’t uncomfortable this time.
It was almost peaceful — the kind of quiet that came from two people who had, for once, stopped bracing against each other.
When the elevator reached the lobby, we stepped out together.
Outside, the evening air was cool, carrying the faint smell of rain that hadn’t quite arrived yet.
I pulled out my phone to call a cab.
“Noah.” I stopped.
Adrian remained near the entrance.
“About this weekend…” I turned, my phone still in hand, the entrance emptying out around us as the last of the evening staff filtered toward the street.
“I meant what I said.
I don’t want to intrude.” “I know.” “I just want to see him.” I nodded.
“I’ll talk to Amelia.” His expression softened.
“Thank you.” I looked at him for a moment, taking in the way the streetlight caught the tired lines around his eyes, evidence that whatever composure he wore all day at work cost him something once the office emptied out.
Then I said something I hadn’t planned to say.
“He really does miss you.” Adrian smiled.
“I miss him too.” I nodded and turned toward the curb, where my cab was already pulling up.
Then I heard him again.
“And Noah?” I looked back.
“Thank you for coming back.” My heart tightened.
I didn’t know why those words affected me so much.
Maybe because I had expected him to be angry that I’d left.
Instead, he was grateful that I’d returned.
It was such a small thing to say, and yet it settled somewhere deep, in the same place I kept every other thing about Adrian that I refused to examine too closely.
I gave him a small smile.
“Goodnight, Adrian.” “Goodnight.” I got into the cab.
For a moment I sat there as it idled at the curb, watching him through the window as he turned and walked back toward the building, his silhouette growing smaller against the lit-up lobby until the doors closed behind him.
The street had emptied out almost entirely by then, and the quiet felt different somehow — less like solitude, more like the space right after something had shifted.
As the cab pulled away, I realized something.
A month ago, I had believed distance was the only way to protect myself.
Now I wasn’t so sure.
The city lights blurred past the window, familiar in a way they hadn’t felt since I’d come back, and for the first time in weeks I didn’t feel like I was bracing for something.
Maybe I could stay.
Maybe I could work beside Adrian.
Maybe I could let Ethan see him.
And maybe, eventually, I could finally tell Adrian the truth.
I just wasn’t ready yet.
But for the first time, I believed I might be someday.
And that belief, small and fragile as it was, felt like more progress than I’d made in two entire years — proof, maybe, that the version of myself who had run wasn’t the only version left.
Noah and Adrian are slowly finding their way back to something that feels almost normal.
They’re working together, talking again, and Adrian is finally giving Noah the space he needs instead of pushing for answers.
And now Noah has even agreed to let Ethan see Adrian this weekend.
But don’t forget about those mysterious messages Noah has been receiving.
They haven’t disappeared.
I’m keeping them in the background for now because their purpose will become clearer later.
Everything will connect when the time is right.
For now, we’re focusing on Noah, Adrian, Ethan, Amelia, and Clara—and letting the relationships develop naturally.
Thank you for reading and supporting the story!
See you in Chapter 25!
— Ari1