Chapter 13 Boredom
Adeline walked from the living room to the kitchen for the third time in ten minutes. The floorboards creaked under her feet almost too loudly as the house was too quiet. There was no traffic outside, no phones ringing, and no assistants knocking on the door with urgent papers. Just the low hum of the fridge and the faint tick of a clock somewhere in the hallway.
She had showered an hour ago, and the hot water had helped a little. She had scrubbed until her skin turned pink, then wrapped herself in one of the thick towels from the linen closet. After that she changed into the only casual clothes she had packed, a soft gray sweater and black leggings, comfortable, simple, and nothing like the suits and heels she usually wore to work.
Now she had nothing left to do.
She opened the fridge again. Eggs, milk, bread, some fruit, and a carton of orange juice. Julian must have stocked it before he brought her here. She closed the door without taking anything since she wasn’t that hungry.
The kitchen counter had a coffee maker. She filled it with water, scooped grounds from the tin next to it, and pressed the button. While it brewed, she leaned against the counter and stared at the window, the trees outside, and the small backyard with overgrown grass. There was nothing exciting to look at.
She poured the coffee into a plain white mug, black with no sugar, carried it to the table, and sat down. The mug warmed her hands, and she took a sip. It was good coffee, strong, just the way she liked it, and she almost smiled, then stopped herself.
Julian had thought of everything. Groceries, towels, and even a pack of chocolate chip cookies in the cupboard. She had found them earlier when she tried to cook something. She opened the fridge, stared at the eggs, then closed it again. She didn’t know how to make anything beyond toast, and she had never needed to learn. Life had always been meetings, flights, and late nights at the office. Food came from restaurants or assistants who knew her order.
She pulled the cookie pack closer, tore it open, and took one. It was soft and sweet, and she ate it slowly, staring at the wall.
This was the problem. She had never been good at doing nothing. From the time she was little, she hated sitting still. Her father used to say she would make a perfect wife one day if she simply stayed quiet and pretty while waiting at home for her husband. He said it like it was supposed to be her goal in life, and she had hated the sound of it even then. She knew she couldn’t live that life with no career, no purpose, just existing to serve a man.
She had fought hard to prove him wrong, worked twice as hard as her brothers, closed deals they couldn’t touch, and earned her place.
Now here she was, hiding in a stranger’s house with no laptop, no phone calls, and no plan for the day except staying out of sight.
She stood up again, walked to the living room, and sat on the couch, then stood up again and paced to the window, looking out only to pace back like an idiot.
She thought about calling Julian. After all, he was the only person who knew where she was since he had brought her here. He had left her with food, coffee, and a safe place. If she called, he would probably come back, sit with her, and talk. Maybe make her laugh with one of his lame jokes, or maybe he would touch her the way he had that first night, slow and sure, like he knew exactly what she needed.
The thought made her stomach flip, and heat rose in her cheeks. She shook her head hard.
No.
Calling him would mean admitting she couldn’t handle being alone. It would mean giving up the tiny bit of control she still had. After everything, she had kept her pride. She had walked out of every room with her head high, and she wasn’t about to call Julian Hale and beg for company like some lonely child.
She sat down again, pulled her knees to her chest, and wrapped her arms around them. The sweater smelled faintly of Julian’s coat, the one she had left folded on the armchair. She had worn it for a while after he left. It was warm and heavy, and it felt like him. She had taken it off when she showered, folded it carefully, and left it there.
She stared at the coat now, thought about picking it up, putting it on, and breathing in the scent, but she didn’t move towards it. Instead, she stood up again, walked to the kitchen, poured more coffee, and drank it standing at the counter. The bitterness matched her mood.
She regretted a lot of things in that moment, and one of them was not having real friends and not keeping people close. She had always been too busy and too quick to cut someone off when they wasted her time. Colleagues respected her, some feared her, but none of them were the kind of people she could call right now and say, “I’m hiding in a cabin and I’m going crazy.”
She set the mug down harder than she meant to, and coffee sloshed over the rim. She wiped it up with a paper towel, threw the towel away, leaned against the counter, and closed her eyes.
Forty-eight hours. That was all it had been since the party, since she saw Patrick with Mara, since she kissed Julian in front of the world, and since everything changed.
She felt tired, not just body tired, but also soul tired. The kind of tiredness that came from fighting every single day of her life. She opened her eyes, looked around the small kitchen, looked at the cookies, and looked at the empty coffee mug.
Then she walked back to the living room, sat on the couch, pulled a throw blanket over her legs, and just stared at the wall.