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I hold Adam until the shadows in his room creep away. Eventually, light blasts through the windows, falling over us while we lie tangled together.
My phone buzzing wakes me up. Sleep clears away from my eyes. I don’t remember dozing off. In fact, the last thing I remember is telling myselfnotto fall asleep in case Adam wakes up and sees me clutching him like this.
If he asked why I stayed, why I went to bed with him, why I caressed him through the night, I won’t have a good answer. At least not one I’m comfortable with sharing.
Adam’s head is heavy on my shoulder. I ease away like a worm, wiggling and squirming until his head hits the pillow. The moment I’m free, I feel a dull ache in my arm. I rotate my shoulders. My body wasnotmade to be the pillow of a man as tall and muscular as Adam Harrison.
Rolling to a sitting position, I check to make sure I haven’t disturbed him. He’s sleeping soundly, his mouth slightly open and his body relaxed.
It feels like I’m tearing velcro apart when I turn away. No, even worse than that. I’m something held together by glue that leaves behind bits and pieces when it’s separated.
That’s how I feel.
Like I’ve left bits and pieces of me in the room with Adam.
I walk down the hallway, dragging my heart—that’s kicking and screaming to stay—behind me. I tiptoe to Rowan’s room. The door is slightly ajar and I push it gently.
Rowan is on his bed. Rather than his usual position of arms and legs sprawled like a star fish, he’s curled up in a fetal position. His pale fingers are entwined in the edge of his pillow.
I step into the room and caress Rowan’s head, much as I did to his father. To have suffered a loss like that at such a young age must be unbearable.
His eyes look puffy. How much did he cry?
My heart falters and I promise myself that I’ll be there for this little family in whatever capacity I can, even if the best position to be in is away from them.
As the Harrison boys sleep soundly, I drive to my apartment. The huge, minimalist space looks empty and cavernous in comparison to Adam’s cozy manor. Each room is silent. Cold. My steps echo like I’m walking through a mausoleum.
When I sit on my bed, it feels too big. Too wide.
Too Adam-less.
I check my phone. Should I have made breakfast before I left? Will Rowan even want to eat? And what will they do about the funeral?
Stay out of it, Nova.
Itching to do something that will help Adam, even slightly, I get dressed and head to Vision Tech. I’ve removed my hands from the operation, but I’ve still been watching everything closely. So far, I have no complaints. The team leaders have stepped up and are managing things well.
I sit in a meeting and observe the discussion. When it’s over, I applaud them.
“Not bad.”
Roberts grins at me. “It’s good to have you back, Nova.”
“I’m not back.” I unfold myself from the chair. “I’m just checking in.”
“When are we going to meet this mysterious owner?” The PR director asks, looking eagerly at me. “Is he related to Harrison?”
“It’s not up to me to decide. And that’s classified.”
I check the time.
Adam and Rowan have been on my mind for hours. I’ll go crazy if I don’t get an update on them.
I dial a number and put the phone to my ear.
“Hello?” A soft, feminine voice sounds.
“Dejonae,” I stalk out of the conference room, “do you have a minute? I’d like to talk.”
