Chapter 136 005
DINNER had gone cold.
Adrian sat alone at the long dining table, the overhead lights casting a muted glow over untouched cutlery and a half-finished glass of water. The house was quiet— too quiet, but he had grown used to that. Silence no longer unnerved him the way it once did. It had become his companion, his punishment, and sometimes, his peace.
He leaned back slightly in his chair and picked up his phone, more out of habit than interest. Scrolling had become a reflex these days— news, business updates, market fluctuations, the occasional meaningless headline. Anything to keep his mind occupied once the twins had gone to bed and Hazel’s laughter no longer echoed through the halls— that's whenever they spend the day with him.
Then his thumb slowed.
And stopped.
His eyes fixed on the screen.
A photo filled it, bright, elegant, unmistakable.
Amelia.
Radiant. Laughing. Her head tilted slightly, eyes glowing with a happiness he hadn’t seen directed at him in years. And there, unmistakably, was her left hand, raised just enough for the camera to capture the diamond ring flashing beneath restaurant lights.
The caption blurred for a second as something tightened in his chest.
Amelia Harlow engaged.
The words didn’t register immediately. It took a heartbeat. Then another.
Engaged. Engaged?
Adrian exhaled slowly, the breath leaving him heavier than it should have. He stared at the photo longer than necessary, absorbing details he hadn’t meant to notice, the way her smile curved, the ease in her posture, the confidence that now wrapped around her like a second skin.
She looked… happy.
His phone vibrated in his hand.
The sudden movement snapped him out of his thoughts. He glanced at the caller ID.
Jakes.
He hesitated briefly before answering.
“Yeah,” Adrian said, his voice steady despite the dull ache spreading through his chest.
“Tell me you have seen it,” Jakes said without preamble.
Adrian let out a low sigh, leaning back in his chair again.
“I was just looking at it when your call came in.”
There was a pause on the other end, then a soft, knowing hum.
“Damn.”
Adrian’s gaze drifted back to the phone screen, where the image still lingered.
“It is everywhere,” he said quietly. “Trending. Like the world needed an announcement.”
Jakes chuckled, though it lacked its old arrogance.
“Yeah. The internet loves a fairytale. Big ring, fancy restaurant, public proposal. You know how it goes.”
Adrian didn’t respond immediately.
Once upon a time, that kind of spectacle would have amused him. He and Jakes and Leonard would have dissected it over drinks, laughed about how easy it was to impress women with the right setting and enough money. They had thought themselves invincible back then— men who could take without consequence.
Life had corrected them. And it did that thoroughly.
“She deserves happiness,” Jakes added, his tone softer now. “After everything.”
Adrian nodded even though Jakes couldn’t see him.
“She does.”
Another pause followed, heavier this time.
“So,” Jakes said carefully, “how are you holding up?”
Adrian’s fingers tightened slightly around the phone.
“I’m fine.”
Jakes snorted quietly.
“That is not an answer.”
Adrian allowed himself a faint, humorless smile.
“Coming from you?”
“Hey,” Jakes replied, mock defensive, “I have retired from that life. Learned the hard way that the thrill isn’t worth the aftermath.”
Adrian glanced at the dim reflection of himself in the polished surface of the dining table. He understood that sentiment more than Jakes knew.
“Yeah,” he said. “We all paid for it. One way or another.”
“And Amelia…” Jakes continued, “she looks genuinely happy.”
Adrian swallowed. “She does.”
His eyes returned once more to the photo, to the ring, to the man standing beside her— his face cropped out in some shots, fully visible in others. He looked handsome, confident and present.
Everything Adrian had failed to be when it mattered most.
“I guess,” Jakes said quietly, “this is the part where we accept consequences.”
Adrian exhaled slowly, his gaze still locked on the screen.
“Yeah.”
The phone buzzed again with notifications— likes, shares, comments multiplying by the second.
He turned the screen off, and for a while silence settled back into the room.
Then Jakes cussed under his breath.
“Mehn! Like this, you have lost her,” he said bluntly. “You have lost that gem, Adrian. Completely.”
Adrian didn’t respond immediately. He stared at the dark screen of his phone, as though the image might still be there, burned into it. Lost. The word echoed louder than it should have.
“I know,” he said quietly.
Jakes inhaled, then exhaled sharply.
“And this new man— what do you know about him? Do you think he is real? Or just… there because he knows Amelia needs a man beside her?”
Adrian leaned back in his chair, closing his eyes briefly.
“That isn’t my concern.”
Jakes scoffed.
“That’s a lie.”
Adrian opened his eyes. The dining room lights seemed harsher now.
“It truly isn’t,” he said, firmer this time. “She is free to choose whoever she wants.”
“But you still love her, man,” Jakes pressed. “I know you do. I have seen it in you. Too many times.”
Adrian’s jaw tightened. He released a slow breath through his nose.
“I do,” he admitted. There was no point denying it anymore. Not to Jakes. “But loving her doesn’t give me rights. Not anymore.”
Another sigh escaped him, heavier than the last.
“There is nothing I can do. So long as she didn’t take my kids away from me… I think I’m fine.”
Jakes let out a short, bitter laugh.
“You and I both know that you are not fine.”
Adrian didn’t argue.
The silence stretched between them, thick and uncomfortable. Outside, the night pressed against the windows, indifferent to the ache sitting in his chest.
“Can we let it slide, please?” Adrian said at last. “Let nature just take its course.”
There was reluctance on the other end. Then Jakes sighed.
“Fine.”
Adrian nodded, even though no one could see him.
“Thank you.”
They sat in silence for a moment longer, two men who once believed they could outrun consequences, now older and far less arrogant.
“So,” Adrian said eventually, changing the subject. “How is Leonard?”
Jakes hesitated. Adrian caught it immediately.
“He is… managing,” Jakes said. “Taking his meds. Keeping to himself mostly.”
Adrian closed his eyes. Leonard’s face came to mind— always laughing, always reckless, always convinced nothing could touch him. Life had been cruel in its lesson.
“His ex-wife still won’t speak to him,” Jakes added quietly. “Packed her things the moment she found out, you know. Took the kids too.”
Adrian’s fingers curled slightly against the table.
“I can’t blame her.”
“Neither can I,” Jakes said. “It’s funny, isn’t it? We thought cheating was just fun. No real cost. Now look at us.”
Adrian gave a humorless smile.
“Some lost their wives. Some lost their health. Some lost both.”
“And some,” Jakes said carefully, “lost the one woman they actually loved.”
That landed deeper than Adrian expected.
He stood up abruptly, walking toward the window. The city lights below glittered, careless and alive. Somewhere out there, Amelia was probably asleep now— or maybe laughing softly beside the man who would soon become her husband.
“She looks happy,” Jakes said again, gentler this time.
“Yes,” Adrian replied, his voice barely above a whisper. “She does.”
“And that kills you.”
Adrian rested his forehead lightly against the cool glass.
“Every day.”
Jakes was quiet for a moment. Then he said, “You know… if I could go back, I would change everything.”
“So would I,” Adrian said.
They ended the call shortly after, exchanging brief goodnights neither of them meant.
Adrian lowered the phone and remained where he was, staring out into the night. The house felt larger now, emptier. The laughter of his children earlier that afternoon seemed like a distant memory.
He returned to the dining table and sat down again, staring at the chair opposite him, once filled by a woman who had loved him deeply, foolishly, faithfully.
He had thought regret would dull with time.
Instead, it sharpened.
And as the night stretched on, Adrian realized that while Amelia’s life was moving forward beautifully, his own heart was still standing at the place where he had lost her— watching, helplessly, as the world went on without him.