Chapter 5 - “I’M SORRY” WAS NOT ENOUGH
Elena woke eleven days after the crash.
Adrian was asleep in a chair beside the window when he heard her whisper.
“Water.”
He opened his eyes.
For several seconds he thought he was dreaming.
Then Elena moved.
Her gray eyes were open.
“Elena?”
“Water.”
He nearly knocked the chair over.
The nurse helped her drink through a straw.
Adrian stood several feet away.
He wanted to touch her.
He didn’t.
When the nurse left, Elena looked at him.
He had not shaved properly in days. There were dark circles beneath his eyes.
“You look awful,” she whispered.
A broken laugh escaped him.
“So I’ve been told.”
Her eyes moved around the room.
“Thomas?”
Adrian’s face changed.
Elena understood.
She closed her eyes.
“No.”
“I’m sorry.”
Tears slipped sideways into her hair.
“He had grandchildren.”
“I know.”
“He was telling me about a fishing trip.”
Adrian swallowed.
“I’ll take care of his family.”
Elena opened her eyes again.
“That doesn’t bring him back.”
“No.”
It was the first answer Adrian had given her in years without defending himself.
Elena noticed.
“Caleb?”
“Alive.”
Her eyebrows lifted slightly.
“Really?”
“Yes.”
“What happened?”
“He’ll spend a very long time answering questions about what he did.”
She watched him.
“You didn’t kill him.”
“No.”
“Why?”
Adrian looked down at his hands.
“Because I realized revenge would make me feel powerful for five minutes and make you responsible for another grave you never asked for.”
For several seconds she said nothing.
“That sounds almost mature.”
He smiled faintly.
“Near-death experiences are apparently educational.”
“You didn’t nearly die.”
Adrian’s smile disappeared.
“No.”
She looked at him steadily.
“I did.”
There it was.
The line he could not cross.
Her suffering belonged to her.
Not him.
He nodded.
“Yes.”
Elena looked toward the window.
“Madison?”
“It’s over.”
“That was quick.”
“It should never have started.”
She closed her eyes.
Adrian stepped closer, then stopped himself.
“I read your letter.”
“I assumed you would.”
“I’m sorry.”
Silence.
“I know that sentence is worthless right now.”
Elena opened her eyes.
“It’s not worthless.”
Hope flashed across his face.
She finished quietly.
“It’s just not enough.”
The hope disappeared.
He nodded.
“I know.”
“Do you?”
“Yes.”
“You lied to me for almost a year.”
“I know.”
“You made me feel foolish in my own house.”
He looked down.
“I know.”
“I used to hear your car come through the gate and wonder whether you were going to smell like her.”
Adrian shut his eyes.
“Elena—”
“No. You don’t get to look away now.”
He forced himself to meet her gaze.
Her voice remained weak, but every word landed cleanly.
“I knew the name of her perfume because it stayed on my pillow after you came home and slept beside me.”
His face twisted.
“I’m sorry.”
“I know.”
She took a shallow breath.
“You stopped asking how my day was.”
“I know.”
“You forgot our anniversary.”
“I know.”
“You told me I had become difficult to talk to.”
He remembered.
God.
He remembered.
Elena continued.
“I wasn’t difficult to talk to, Adrian. You were simply happier when I didn’t speak.”
He sat slowly.
Tears gathered in his eyes.
“I don’t have an excuse.”
“No.”
“I don’t want one.”
“Good.”
He wiped his face.
“I dissolved the private operations.”
Elena stared at him.
“What?”
“I’m selling anything I can’t operate legally. Grant is restructuring the rest. I’ve created a fund for families harmed by Caleb’s contracts and by decisions I made.”
“You don’t have to perform repentance for me.”
“I’m not.”
“How do I know?”
“You don’t.”
That answer surprised her.
Adrian leaned forward, elbows on his knees.
“And I don’t get to ask you to believe me.”
The room fell quiet.
For once Adrian Vale had nothing to sell.
No argument.
No promise designed to produce the outcome he wanted.
“I signed the divorce papers,” Elena whispered.
He nodded.
“I know.”
“Did you file them?”
“No.”
Her expression hardened.
“Adrian.”
“Because they’re yours,” he said quickly. “You decide when they get filed. I told your attorney I wouldn’t interfere.”
Elena studied him.
“My attorney?”
“I called the name written on the envelope.”
“You contacted Rebecca?”
“To tell her you were alive.”
Elena almost smiled.
“Rebecca hates you.”
“She made that very clear.”
A faint laugh escaped Elena before pain caught her ribs.
Adrian stood instinctively.
She raised one hand.
“Don’t.”
He stopped.
The distance between them was perhaps four feet.
It felt wider than their entire marriage.
“Elena,” he said, “I love you.”
Her expression changed.
Not softened.
Changed.
“That is a very cruel thing to realize when I’m lying in a hospital bed.”
“I know.”
“Do you?”
“Yes.”
She looked away.
“I loved you when you stopped loving me.”
Adrian’s throat tightened.
“I loved you every morning you lied.”
He bowed his head.
“I loved you while I was collecting evidence because I couldn’t bear the thought of someone killing you, even though part of me wanted to hate you.”
A tear slid down her cheek.
“And do you know what finally frightened me?”
“What?”
“That I had become proud of how much pain I could tolerate.”
Adrian said nothing.
“That is not love,” Elena whispered.
“That is disappearing.”
For the first time, he understood why she had signed the papers.
Not because she had stopped caring.
Because she had finally decided caring could no longer cost her herself.
“I won’t ask you to stay,” he said.
She looked at him.
“I want to.”
His voice broke.
“God, Elena, I want to get on my knees and ask you for another chance until you hate the sound of my voice.”
The smallest trace of her old humor appeared.
“That might not take long.”
He laughed through tears.
“But I won’t.”
“Why?”
“Because you already spent too much of our marriage doing what was best for me.”
He stood.
“So when you’re stronger, you decide what happens next.”
“And if I leave?”
May you like
Adrian’s face crumpled for half a second before he controlled it.
“Then I help you pack.”
