Chapter 100
"Maya, time for bed."
Adam rolled onto his side, propping his head up with one hand. That goddamn smirk tugging at his lips. Like he thought this—him sprawled across my sheets in nothing but a towel—was going to work.
I grabbed a pillow off the chair. Walked over. And slammed it into his chest.
"Get. Out."
He caught it, laughing. "Amy's not home tonight. We could—"
I hit him again. "Go dream about it, Sterling."
"Can I at least stay here and dream?"
"No!"
I grabbed his arm and shoved him toward the door. He let me push him into the hallway, still grinning.
The door slammed shut.
I pressed my back against it. Breathing hard.
Somehow, Adam had barged in and scrambled all the shit from today.
I crawled into bed and fell asleep fast.
---
I woke to pale morning light and the faint hum of traffic outside.
I stretched. Blinked at the ceiling.
Quiet.
I got up, padded to the bathroom, splashed water on my face.
Where the hell is he?
The couch was empty. Blanket folded.
Probably snuck into Amy's room.
I shook my head and went to the kitchen.
---
Twenty minutes later, I had scrambled eggs, toast, and coffee laid out on the table.
I heard footsteps behind me. Turned around.
Adam stood in the doorway.
Still wearing my towel.
It hung even lower than last night. Precariously low.
"Are you serious right now?" I snapped, spinning back to face the counter. "How long are you planning to hijack my towel?"
A low chuckle. "Relax. I'm giving it back."
I heard him move toward the door. The lock clicked. Then he was back, holding a black garment bag.
Of course. James had dropped off fresh clothes.
---
We ate in silence.
The ringtone shattered the silence. "Ryan."
Adam's head snapped up. Eyes locked on me.
"Maya, you're home, right?"
"Yeah."
"Good. Can you make something for Mom? Light, easy to digest. She won't eat the hospital cafeteria food, and she doesn't want takeout either."
Two seconds of silence stretched between us.
"Okay. I'll bring something over in a bit."
"Thanks." He hung up.
I stared at the phone. Then set it down. Hard.
---
I stood. Went to the kitchen.
Poured the rest of my coffee into a thermos. Started pulling out ingredients.
Behind me, I heard the scrape of a chair. The sound of plates being stacked.
Adam walked past me to the sink. Rolled up his sleeves. Started washing dishes.
I didn't look at him. Just kept chopping. Stirring.
"You don't have to do this, you know."
His voice cut through the quiet.
I stopped. Stared down at the cutting board.
"She's my mother."
"And she treats you like shit."
He shut off the water. Dried his hands. Crossed the small space between us.
"Maya." His voice was softer now. "If you don't want to deal with her, don't. You don't owe her anything just because she guilt-trips you into it."
I let out a breath. Leaned against the counter.
"I keep thinking... maybe if I'm good to her, she'll change. Even a little."
"You didn't do anything wrong," he said quietly.
A bitter laugh escaped me. "Then why does she look at me like I did?"
"Because she's the one who's fucked up. Not you."
I turned my head slightly. "Adam—"
"You have me," he said. "You have Amy. And one day... we'll have more. A second kid. A real family. A home where no one makes you feel like you're not enough."
"You're getting ahead of yourself, Sterling."
I grabbed the thermos. "I need to go. You should too."
When I came back out—dressed, keys in hand—he was waiting by the door. Jacket on. Car keys ready.
"I'm driving you," he said before I could speak.
"Adam—"
"Not up for debate."
I headed for the stairwell. He followed.
In the parking lot, I made for my car. His hand caught my wrist.
"Get in mine. I'm not letting you face them alone."
He opened the passenger door. Waited.
Fuck.
I got in.
---
St. Mary's Hospital, sixth floor. Room 604.
I pushed open the door, balancing the food containers.
Ryan stood by the window. Turned when he heard us.
His eyes went wide.
"Mr. Sterling."
Adam gave a curt nod. Cold. Detached.
I walked past them both. Set the containers on the tray table.
Adam stayed near the door. Arms crossed.
But his eyes never left me.
I set up the food. Quietly. Efficiently.
"You're still with him?"
My mother's voice cut through the room like a blade.
I froze.
"You have no shame left, do you?"
I didn't answer. Just kept arranging the containers.
"Maya."
Her tone sharpened.
I turned. Met her gaze.
Cold. Accusing.
"Is there something else you need?"
"Don't use that tone with me." Her face twisted. "I'm talking to you. Don't you dare ignore me."
"I heard you."
"Then answer." She pushed herself up slightly. "You're still running around with him. You don't care that people talk. You don't care that Ryan and I have to deal with the embarrassment. You're selfish—"
"Enough."
Adam's voice sliced through the room.
Everyone froze.
He stepped forward. Slowly. Expression glacial.
"Maya," he said, voice low and lethal, "has nothing to be ashamed of. You, on the other hand, should be embarrassed. An old woman spewing venom at her own daughter in a hospital room. That's disgraceful."
"You—" My mother clutched her chest, face flushing red. "You—"
Ryan rushed to her side. "Mom, calm down. You're sick. Maya, don't—"
Adam turned on him. "Real convenient how you always pick the easy target. I'm the one who pissed her off, but you come after Maya instead."
"I didn't mean—" Ryan started.
Adam's laugh was cold. "Hypocrite."
Adam's hand found mine. Fingers lacing tight.
He looked at my mother. Then Ryan.
"Maya is my girlfriend. Soon, she'll be my wife. If you can't respect her, stay the hell away from her."
The room went silent.
"You ignored her when she was a kid. Now you want her to play nursemaid because it's convenient. Not happening."
My mother's face went from red to white.
Adam pulled me toward the door.
---
The door swung shut behind us.
Adam turned to face me. "You're not coming back here. Not to drop off food. Not to check on her. Nothing."
I stared at him.
"I'll hire someone. Two people. Full-time care."
"Adam—"
"Non-negotiable."
I bit my lip. "Can we... just do one? I can't afford two."
His jaw tightened.
Then he nodded. Once. "Fine. One."
I looked down at our joined hands.
His thumb brushed over my knuckles.
For a moment, I didn't pull away.
Then I did.
He frowned.
"Car," I said quickly. "Let's just... go."
He exhaled. "Get in."
---
I slid into the passenger seat.
"I want to pick up Amy."
Adam's hand shot out.
I yelped.
He leaned over me—close, too close—and his fingers brushed my waist as he reached for the seatbelt.
Click.
He pulled back. Smirking.
"Thought I was going to kiss you?"
My face went nuclear. "Fuck off and drive!"