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“No, thank you,” Adriana said. “But we really appreciate it.”
“Well, you know where to find me,” the old woman said. “Take care.”
She left, then, her comment hanging in the air and giving way to an uncomfortable silence. I looked at Adriana, but she wouldn’t meet my eyes. Instead, she focused on grabbing her plate of food. Eggs, croissants, toast and blueberry compote. It looked delicious.
“Adriana,” I started, but she cut me off.
“Don’t,” she said firmly. “Don’t ruin this moment with empty promises.”
“I meant what I said,” I insisted. “I want to be a better man for you.”
“Why me? You could have anyone you wanted.”
I held back a smile. “What do you mean, why you?” I asked. “You’re a fucking force to be reckoned with. That’s why.”
I watched her blush at my words, some of the tension dissolving from her frame. But she didn’t respond, choosing instead to sip at her coffee and continue staring down at her untouched plate.
“You gonna eat that?” I nudged her gently, pointing at her breakfast. “The baby needs it.”
She gave me a sheepish look before taking a small bite of toast, as if trying to appease me. I took that as a victory in itself. “This is really good,” she said.
“There’s a lot more bread where that came from.”
“Are you going to eat too?”
I nodded and picked up my own plate, the aroma of scrambled eggs and bacon wafting through the room. We ate in silence for a while, the tension from our earlier conversation still lingering in the air.
As I watched Adriana nibble at her breakfast, I couldn’t help but marvel at how beautiful she was, even with her hair mussed from sleep and a troubled look on her face. But that troubled look hurt me in ways I never thought possible. What had I done to put so much fear in her eyes?
I had to make this right. Not just for me or for Adriana, but for the child growing inside of her. My child.
“Let’s go for a walk,” I said. “We’re pretending we’re a couple, let’s pretend this is a real honeymoon.”
She looked at me as she took a sip of her coffee, saying nothing.
“We’re already here. We might as well, right?”
She studied me for a moment, her eyes probing and intense. Then, after what felt like an eternity, she nodded slowly.
“Alright,” she agreed quietly, setting her almost entirely finished breakfast aside. Her expression was unreadable, but the fact that she was willing to go along with my suggestion gave me a glimmer of hope.
I got up from the bed and extended my hand to her. She looked at it for a beat before accepting it hesitantly. As I pulled her to her feet, I made sure to handle her with utmost gentleness. Right now, she seemed as fragile as porcelain to me; as if one wrong move could break her.
“Can I get dressed first?” she asked.
I laughed. “But you already look so good like this.”
“Tristan.”
“Okay, okay,” I said. “Get dressed.”
A few minutes later, we exited the hotel room side by side, making our way down the facility’s wide halls and out the front door. The cool morning air greeted us, trees flanking the small street around us.
Showered in the soft golden glow of sunlight, the quaint town had a calming quality that was hard to overlook. The warm colors of the brick buildings lining the streets and the lingering scent of blooming flowers nearby almost made us forget we were fugitives on the run. We walked side by side, not quite holding hands. But we were close to each other. Adriana was in it to sell it and I appreciated that.
My fingers brushed against her hand, and before she could pull away, I intertwined her fingers with mine. I thought she might pull away, but she didn’t. “Look,” I said. “You’re into vintage stores, aren’t you?”
I nodded. “Yeah. How did you know that?”
