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35
Lia
Patterns work in a strange way.
I didn’t think I believed in them, but my view completely changed after I met someone who considered them a religion.
If it weren’t for those patterns, Adrian wouldn’t have found me. He wouldn’t have inserted himself in my life and refused to leave.
Thanks to the patterns, my life completely changed. Not all of it was good or bearable. At some point, I hated the change, but one thing’s for certain. If it weren’t for that change, I wouldn’t have found the man who not only saved me, but also gave my life meaning. He gave me Jeremy and didn’t allow me to run away from him or myself.
And now, we’re at that point where we’ve reached a crossroads, one that only leads in one direction.
It’s been two days since Luca went all kamikaze. Adrian shot him and grabbed me, yanking me away from the edge at the last second as Luca fell off the cliff.
They found his body down the river the next day. I cried when I heard the news because even though he was pathologically manipulative, his childhood wasn’t the best, and he only did what he did so that he and his family could survive.
My father was livid when he came to visit me the night of the incident. After he made sure I was all right, he promised to find the rest of the Rozettis and wipe them off the face of the earth. My attempts to sway him didn’t matter, because he’d already made up his mind.
Adrian agreed with him, too, for my safety.
He’s been so busy the past two days that I’ve barely caught a glimpse of him. The night of the incident, he drove me home before going back to the cliff. He spent yesterday in long meetings with my father and then with the brotherhood.
I waited for him to return, but he never did. Looks like tonight will be the same.
Sighing, I cover Jeremy, then put on my coat and opt to go for a walk in the garden. I stare at the guest house, contemplating whether or not I should go to Winter, but eventually decide against it.
She goes to sleep early and I’d rather not bother her with my gloomy thoughts.
When I told Adrian not to touch me unless he’s ready to open up, I didn’t think he’d take it literally.
But whatever, I’m not the one in the wrong. I thought I could have him without feelings before, that I could love him enough for the both of us, but it was so exhausting and painful. So painful that I thought death was better.
So even if I could put up with it for a while, I need to have some sort of hope that he will one day have feelings for me, no matter how far in the future that might be. I’m ready to wait if I know it will happen.
Our marriage has never been a fairytale, but I thought we cared for each other. Even when we hurt one another.
When I asked my therapist if it’s normal to cause each other pain when I obviously love him and he cares about me, she confirmed it.
Apparently, when stressed, we get to take it out on the person closest to us. In my case, that’s Adrian.
But I don’t want to hurt him anymore. In return, I don’t want to be in pain, thinking that he’ll never reciprocate my feelings.
The deeper they get, the more terrified I am that we’ll go back to that stage of our marriage where the physical connection was all we had.
I loathe that period.
No matter how sexually compatible we are, it’ll wane with time and then we’ll have nothing.
The cold night air seeps underneath my coat as I walk to the gazebo. I’m at the entrance when a slight rustle comes from behind me.
Adrian.
I don’t have to turn around to know it’s him. Six years of marriage has attuned me to his presence, even without seeing him.
Swallowing, I stop and face him. He’s wearing his cashmere coat over a white shirt and black pants, looking as handsome as ever. The man ages like fine wine, I swear.
“What are you doing outside in the cold?”
