The moment they stepped out, Mira swatted Adrian’s hand off her.
“Don’t touch me.” She hissed, her voice crackling like a storm in the quiet driveway.
She moved ahead of Adrian, her breath sharp and uneven.
She didn’t stop until she got into her car.
She used the few seconds it took Adrian to reach her to steady herself, eyes squeezed shut as she held back the angry tears threatening to break free.
Adrian got in the other seat, shutting the door gently behind him.
The engine started.
They drove in silence, broken only by the sound of the car, humming softly.
Mira willed her hand to stay steady on the wheel, as the image of Karen’s face—satisfied, triumphant—burned behind her eyes.
It ignited an anger in her.
“Baby,” Adrian finally spoke, tired of the heavy silence between them.
He reached for her.
“Don’t,” she hissed, her eyes snapping to him.
“Don’t you dare touch me, Adrian!”
He raised his hands in surrender, backing off.
“You didn’t have to do that” She spat.
“Ba—”
“You don’t get to call me that, Adrian.”, her voice trembled with pain.
“You don’t get to call me that after you lied.”
“I protected you.”
Her jaw tightened.
The streetlights blurred past the window, golden streaks against the glass.
“You claimed I was pregnant,” she said, each word deliberate.
“You touched me.
You let her believe it.”
His words from the hospital rang in her ears—his intentions to have her raise his child.
Was this the first step to ensuring that?
Her entire body shook.
“You—you—”
“I couldn’t let her!” Adrian snapped, his eyes blazing.
Mira paused.
“I couldn’t let her,” he continued, quietly this time.
“I’ve watched her humiliate and mistreat you for far too long, Mira.” He sighed.
“I couldn’t take it anymore.”
Mira’s breath hitched at the sincerity in his voice.
The tension in his shoulders and that tender expression that made her heart race.
“Liar,” she whispered lowly.
“You did it for yourself”
“Do you really believe that?” He glanced at her, his eyes brewing with sincerity.
Her chest tightened.
She looked away from him, fixing her eyes straight ahead.
There were barely any cars on the streets.
“I know my mother,” he continued.
“Once she gets an idea in her head, she won’t stop. Follow the newest chapters on g.com.
This—” he gestured vaguely between them, “—this was the fastest way to shut her down.”
Mira closed her eyes briefly.
Once again, the memory replayed: Karen retreating, satisfied.
Then, she recalled the glass left untouched.
The threat neutralized.
It scared her how effective the lie had been.
How quickly Karen had backed off.
“I wanted her to stop.” He kept going.
“I don’t like to see you hurting.” He grabbed her hand resting on the console, pulling it up to his lips.
“I never want to see you hurting.”
Mira stopped at a red light.
“What now?” she asked quietly, turning fully to face him.
“How long were you planning to let that lie live, Adrian?”
“As long as it needs to,” he said without hesitation.
Her brows creased.
“What does that mean?”
“It means you won’t have to drink those tonics anymore.
It means she won’t look at you like you’re…
broken.” His voice lowered.
“It means you’ll have peace.”
Peace.
Mira let the word roll around her mind, bitter and false.
The light turned green.
“And when she asks for proof?” she asked, driving again.
“When she demands a healer, or counts the months, or starts planning a naming ceremony?”
“We’ll handle it,” he said easily.
“Together.”
Together.
His hand moved then—slow, deliberate—resting over her stomach again.
“You don’t have to be strong all the time,” he murmured.
“Let me take care of this.”
Her body reacted before her mind could stop it.
Her muscles went rigid, bile rising in her throat.
She swallowed, the tear she’d been holding back finally slipping out.
Adrian brushed it away tenderly.
“I hate to see you cry,” he whispered, leaning in slightly.
“I don’t like when you cry.”
Mira bowed her head slightly, pulling away from him.
“I love you,” he added.
Her breath hitched.
For a split second—just one—she almost believed him.
Almost leaned into the warmth of his certainty, the ease of letting someone else decide, protect, lie.
She hated that it still worked on her.
Silence stretched between them again.
The street was empty, the night humming softly around the car.
Mira reached for her bag.
Her fingers brushed the document inside, and she hesitated.
Adrian noticed.
“What’s that?”
She swallowed.
Her heart pounded so loudly she was sure he could hear it.
This was the moment.
The line she’d sworn she wouldn’t cross again.
“Prove it.” She said suddenly, pulling out the document.
“Prove yourself, Adrian.”
She hesitated, then dropped the document on his lap.
Adrian picked it up, his eyes darting between her and the document.
“It’s for a car,” she explained, her bottom lip between her teeth.
“I’ve—I’ve wanted it for a while.”
Adrian chuckled casually, a small, relieved sound.
“Now?”
She pressed her lips together.
He studied her face for a second longer, then shrugged, reaching into his jacket for a pen.
He signed the document without a second thought.
“Happy?” He handed it back to her.
Mira cracked a smile.
A small one—enough to fool him.
She pulled up on the driveway.
Adrian leaned in, pressing a kiss to her forehead.
“I’ll see you later.” He whispered, before sliding out.
She watched him walk away, watched him get into his own car and drive off, the red lights disappearing into the night.
Only then did she look down at the document in her hands.
DIVORCE SETTLEMENT was printed boldly across the top.
Mira stared at it for a long moment.
Then she smiled, then giggled, until she was laughing uncontrollably.
She’d promised to never let herself be swayed by him again.
And she’d kept that promise.
This time, she’d managed to secure her divorce.
“It’s almost over, Adrian.”