Chapter 32 032
RIGHT on the bed, beneath the heavy duvet, Adrian lay fast asleep, his breathing deep and heavy. Beside him, Vivian was curled up, her brown powdery face relaxed in slumber.
Adrian stirred, his body shifting restlessly before his eyes fluttered open. He blinked a few times, disoriented, then suddenly realization hit him like a lightning bolt.
With a sharp gasp, he bolted upright, panic set in.
“What is the time? My phone… where is my phone?!”
He scrambled frantically out of the bed, nearly tripping over the edge of the duvet. His hands fumbled along the nightstand, knocking aside a glass before finally grabbing the small table clock.
His eyes widened as he read the time.
“Jesus!” He shouted.
“Oh my goodness!” Adrian’s voice cracked with panic as he carelessly dropped the table clock, the loud clatter echoing across the quiet room. He darted around the room, fumbling, scrambling for his scattered clothes like a man chased by fire.
“Oh God! God!” he lamented, his voice thick with despair.
Vivian only stirred. She yawned lazily, pulling the duvet tighter around her body as though nothing in the world mattered. Slowly, she sat up, her hair falling messily over her face.
“What is it?” she asked in a groggy, sleepy voice, blinking as her eyes followed him.
Adrian didn’t even pause. He was moving from one corner to another, shoving arms into sleeves, picking up trousers, slipping on his belt halfway. His voice came out clipped, frantic.
“The time— the time.”
Vivian sighed, her expression weary, her body still heavy from the previous night’s drinking and dancing.
“What happened?” she murmured.
“The time,” he snapped again. “It is 2 p.m.!”
She stared at him, her lips parting slightly, but instead of alarm, all she managed was a tired sigh, as though the revelation meant nothing.
“Babe, please, can you just calm down…” she began softly, that sultry tone she used whenever she wanted to ease him.
But that was the breaking point. Something inside Adrian snapped like a taut string. His head whipped toward her, his face flushed with anger, his voice booming like thunder.
“Don’t tell me to calm down!” he roared.
The sudden force of his shout made Vivian flinch back, her whole body jerking in fear. She clutched the duvet tighter against her chest, eyes wide, heart pounding.
Adrian’s fury didn’t stop there. He threw his hands wildly as he stormed about.
“You told me we were only going to sleep for two hours, two hours! And now look, it is 2 p.m.!”
Vivian’s face shifted then, her fear slowly fading into confusion, her brows knitting together.
“Well, I didn’t plan for this to happen,” she said, her voice trembling but defensive.
Adrian ignored her words entirely. He pulled on his shirt in a rush, tugging it into place without buttoning it fully. His jaw was clenched, his eyes wild with frustration.
“Babe, I—” she started again, trying to reach for him with her voice.
But he didn’t give her the chance. Adrian bolted out of the bedroom, his footsteps echoing sharply down the hallway, leaving the door swinging open behind him.
The silence that followed was heavy, pressing down like a weight. Vivian sat still on the bed, her lips sealed, her chest rising and falling fast. Her head began to throb painfully, a dull, insistent ache that made her wince. Slowly, she raised her left hand to her temple, holding it there, eyes squeezed shut against the pounding.
After a few long minutes, she finally lowered her hand. Her gaze drifted toward the open door where Adrian had vanished. For a moment, her face was blank and unreadable. Then, like a mask slipping into place, her lips curled upward. A slow, wicked smile crept across her face.
Adrian pushed the door open slowly, the hinges creaking softly in the quiet house. His steps were heavy, almost dragging, and in his hand was a beautiful backpack, bright red and white, decorated with cartoon prints Hazel had once begged for in the store. He had thought it would make her smile.
But the scene that greeted him broke him deeper than he expected.
On the couch, Amelia sat silently, still dressed impeccably in the corporate attire she had worn to the award day. Her posture was straight, rigid, but her face was unreadable, her eyes fixed ahead as though lost in thought. Across her lap lay Hazel, still in her little school uniform, her head resting softly on her mother’s thighs. She was fast asleep, exhaustion painting her face, her lashes wet as though she had cried herself to sleep.
Their shoes and bags were neatly arranged on the floor nearby. The file Hazel had carried, now half-opened, peeked out beside her little polished shoes. And just next to the couch, on the edge of the rug, sat her golden plaque— the Best Student Award.
The sight stabbed Adrian’s heart like a blade. He froze where he stood, guilt wrapping tightly around him, suffocating him. Slowly, he walked closer, until he stood right before them. The silence in the room was deafening. Amelia didn’t look up. Hazel stirred faintly in her sleep, her lips parting to murmur something unintelligible.
Adrian’s knees buckled under the weight of shame. He sank down right in front of them, falling on one knee as if he was about to propose all over again. He held the little backpack in his hand, but it felt suddenly useless, powerless to bridge the chasm he had created. His voice trembled when he finally spoke.
“Amelia… Hazel… I—” He swallowed hard, tears stinging his eyes, real or fake, none could tell. “I know I promised. God knows I promised. But yet again… yet again, I didn’t make it.” His head dropped, his voice breaking. “I knew I was supposed to be there. I knew I was supposed to stand beside you, Hazel, to give that speech for you, to let everyone know how proud I am of you. But I failed. I failed again.”
His words hung in the air, heavy, raw.
“I can’t tell you how sorry I am,” he continued, his voice hoarse now. “I was meant to be the one clapping the loudest, cheering the loudest. Instead, you stood there without me.” He shut his eyes tight, fighting the memory of his little girl’s hopeful voice from the night before. “I’m… seriously, seriously sorry.”
Amelia’s silence cut deeper than any reprimand could. She didn’t even spare him a glance. She simply sat, her hand gently stroking Hazel’s hair as though protecting her from his voice, from his presence.
“Amelia, please,” Adrian begged, his words tumbling out quickly. “I know I said this before, I know I have broken my word, but I—”
Before he could finish, Amelia shifted. With the calmness of someone whose patience had been drained dry, she gently tapped Hazel.
“Baby, wake up,” she whispered softly.
Hazel stirred, her small arms stretching as she yawned. She blinked slowly, her drowsy eyes landing briefly on her father kneeling before them, before she turned her face away, nestling closer to her mother’s side.
“Come on, Hazel,” Amelia said quietly. She gathered Hazel’s things from the couch, her daughter’s shoes, the award, the school bag. Hazel rubbed her eyes and sat up, letting Amelia guide her. Without a word, without a glance in Adrian’s direction, Amelia took her daughter by the hand.
The sound of Hazel’s small feet dragging against the floor echoed painfully in the silence as they walked toward the hallway. Adrian’s hand instinctively reached out, but he froze mid-air, watching helplessly as they disappeared from his sight. The sound of the bedroom door closing was final, like a hammer on a coffin.
Still kneeling on the floor, Adrian felt the world collapse inward. His head hung low, imaginary tears spilling unchecked down his face. He clutched the little backpack to his chest, the bright colors mocking him with their cheerfulness.
And then, without warning, the memory of last night came rushing back, like a dagger twisted deeper into his heart.
…Flashback…
He had been at the door, dressed and ready to leave. Amelia’s voice, soft but firm, stopped him.
“Promise?” she asked, her eyes boring into his.
He had smiled, and replied.
“I promise,” he said.
The moment he opened the door to leave, Hazel’s little voice had chimed in from the hallway, halting him.
“Daddy, please, I want you to be there for me tomorrow.”
Adrian had looked down, his heart softening at the sight of her bright eyes and eager smile. He looked from his wife to his daughter, then crouched to her level.
“I promise, baby. I will be there.”
Hazel had lifted her small pinkie finger, her smile wide.
“Pinkie promise.”
He had laughed, his chest swelling with warmth, and hooked his pinkie with hers.
“Pinkie promise,” he repeated. Then he kissed her forehead gently before walking away, still smiling.
…Present Day…
Now, kneeling alone in the silence of the living room, the weight of his broken promises came crashing down like an avalanche. His chest tightened painfully, his breaths ragged.
He had broken their trust. Again.
Adrian pressed his hands to his face, gnashed his teeth until his jaw ached, and let out a guttural sound of despair. The backpack slipped from his hands and fell to the floor with a dull thud, lying there like another failed offering.
The full weight of his actions settled deep in his bones. He had failed his wife. He had failed his daughter. He had failed himself.
And this time, he knew the wound he had inflicted might not heal so easily.