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Slowly, Adrian twists to face me. So when he walks towards me, my breath hitches in my throat.
I know I should slam the door in his face and scream about how unfair it all is.
But when he finally bridges the distance between us, the last of my defenses fall, and I find myself leaning into him.
He wraps his arms around me and shudders. “I thought you were never going to forgive me.”
“I’m trying to,” I say, in a muffled voice. The familiar and warm smell of him washes over me, chasing away some of my doubts. “I’m not sure if I’ve forgiven you completely yet.”
But in spite of my better judgement, I want to try.
Because I miss Adrian with a fierceness that surprises me.
The past couple of days without him have been hard, harder than I ever imagined.
All I want is to drag him inside and curl up against him on the bed. To wrap his arms around me, whisper in my ear, and make me forget the past few days ever happened.
Unfortunately, I know that even Adrian isn’t that good.
He reaches for my hand and grips it tightly. “I am truly and sincerely sorry about whatever I did that upset you. I would never intentionally hurt you, Danielle. You mean too much to me.”
So, he doesn't even realize he's doing it. Oh Adrian…my hearts aches for you.
I stir and draw back to look at him, releasing his hand. “Aren’t you worried the other guests are going to see?”
Adrian frames my face with his hands and looks into my eyes. “I don’t give a shit.”
I hold his gaze, and the butterflies in my stomach erupt anew. “Good answer.”
His lips lift into a half smile. Wordlessly, he takes my hand again and kicks my front door open the rest of the way.
I stumble after him, pausing only to kick the door shut with the back of my leg.
He carries me over to the couch, places me on his lap, and buries his face in my hair.
Several long moments pass while I sit there, struggling to remember how to breathe.
I turn everything over and over in my head, but I keep coming back to the same conclusion. Adrian has issues he doesn’t want to tell me about it.
Or issues he doesn’t even know about.
How can someone who is doing so well for himself in life hide it so easily?
Not all mental disorders are the same, D. You can’t bring it up and embarrass him like that. What if he doesn’t want to talk about it?
Or worse.
What if he doesn’t know and I’m the one who ends up shattering his illusion and forcing him to acknowledge reality?
I can’t be the one to do that to him.
Besides, none of it matters when Adrian and I are alone. When he holds me like nothing else in the world exists.
Not the hike, not the incident in his room, and not the other guests.
When Adrian holds me like this, I can’t think of a single place I’d rather be. Or anyone else I’d rather be with.
We are so deeply intertwined that I can’t imagine a world where we aren’t.
