Chapter 8 - THE NIGHT ADRIAN CAME TO BOSTON
Adrian arrived in Boston on a rainy Friday evening.
He didn't come to my apartment.
He didn't appear at the institute.
He didn't send men to follow me.
Instead, he asked his attorney to request a meeting in a public place.
I considered refusing.
Then I realized I had something to say.
Not because I wanted him back.
Because I wanted to close the door myself.
We met in a quiet restaurant near the Charles River.
I arrived first.
Adrian entered ten minutes later.
He looked different.
Thinner.
Tired.
There were shadows beneath his eyes.
He stopped when he saw me.
“Claire.”
I stood.
“Adrian.”
For a moment, neither moved.
Then he said:
“You look beautiful.”
I sat.
“Thank you.”
He took the opposite chair.
A waiter brought water.
Adrian stared at me.
“I didn't think you'd come.”
“I almost didn't.”
He nodded.
Silence.
Then he whispered:
“I'm sorry.”
I looked at him.
He continued.
“For Sophia. For New York. For everything I said.”
I waited.
He swallowed.
“I was cruel.”
“Yes.”
The word landed between us.
He closed his eyes.
“I thought you would always be there.”
“I know.”
“I thought—”
“You thought loving you meant I didn't have a life of my own.”
He stared.
Then nodded.
“Yes.”
I took a breath.
“Adrian, I loved you more than I knew how to love myself.”
His eyes filled.
“But you didn't love me enough to ask what I wanted.”
He looked down.
“I know.”
I studied him.
“Do you?”
He looked up.
“I think I'm beginning to.”
Silence.
Then he asked:
“Is there someone else?”
I almost laughed.
“That's what you want to know?”
He looked ashamed.
“No. I'm sorry.”
I shook my head.
“There doesn't need to be another man for me to leave you.”
He stared.
I continued.
“I didn't leave because someone better came along.”
My voice trembled.
“I left because I finally believed I deserved better than being an option.”
Adrian covered his face.
For a moment, I thought he might cry.
Then he lowered his hands.
“Can you ever forgive me?”
I considered him.
“Maybe.”
His eyes brightened.
I held up my hand.
“But forgiveness isn't reconciliation.”
The hope faded from his face.
I continued.
“I don't know what our future looks like.”
He nodded slowly.
“But I know I'm not going back to the woman I was.”
Adrian stared at me.
Then whispered:
“I wouldn't ask you to.”
For the first time in years, I believed he might mean it.
May you like
But I wasn't ready to trust him.
Not yet.
