Chapter 86 up
Selina did not sleep that night.
She lay on the far side of the bed, facing the window, watching the faint reflection of the city lights ripple across the glass. The room was quiet except for Adrian’s breathing behind her—slow, even, controlled.
He had fallen asleep quickly.
Or at least he had closed his eyes and chosen silence.
Selina wondered if he was truly resting, or simply avoiding another conversation that neither of them knew how to finish.
The question she had asked still echoed inside her head.
Are you holding on to me out of love… or out of habit?
She wished she could take it back.
Not because it wasn’t true.
Because once a question like that existed between two people, it never completely disappeared.
It stayed in the room.
Waiting.
Morning came too quickly.
Adrian woke first, as he usually did. Selina kept her eyes closed when he sat up beside her. She heard the quiet rustle of fabric as he reached for his shirt, the soft sound of his phone lighting up.
Messages.
Always messages.
He moved carefully, as if trying not to wake her.
That small consideration almost hurt more than indifference.
When he left the room, Selina opened her eyes.
The ceiling looked the same as it always had.
Nothing about the apartment had changed.
Yet everything inside it felt slightly misaligned.
Like furniture that had been moved half an inch in the night.
Enough that you noticed it.
Enough that it made the space unfamiliar.
She rose slowly and walked to the kitchen.
Adrian was already dressed, standing near the counter with a tablet in his hand. A cup of coffee sat beside him, steam curling faintly into the air.
He glanced up when she entered.
“Morning.”
“Morning.”
The word felt heavier than usual.
Selina poured herself coffee without asking if he wanted more.
They moved around each other with the same quiet choreography they had developed over the past weeks—careful not to collide, careful not to linger too close.
Adrian cleared his throat.
“I have meetings this morning.”
Selina nodded.
“I assumed.”
“With the regional board.”
She leaned against the counter.
“And?”
“They’re concerned about coordination.”
Selina didn’t need to ask what that meant.
“They think you and Vanesa aren’t aligned.”
Adrian watched her carefully, measuring her reaction.
Selina simply stirred her coffee.
“Are they wrong?”
Adrian didn’t answer immediately.
“No,” he said finally.
The honesty surprised both of them.
Selina looked at him over the rim of her cup.
“Do you know what’s interesting?” she said softly.
“What?”
“They’re noticing now.”
Adrian frowned.
“What do you mean?”
Selina set the cup down.
“You and I have been noticing for weeks.”
Adrian sighed quietly.
“This isn’t about us.”
“Everything is about us,” Selina replied.
He shook his head.
“You’re making it personal.”
“It is personal.”
Adrian didn’t respond.
Instead, he picked up his tablet again, scanning something on the screen.
Selina watched him.
“You’re seeing her today, aren’t you?”
Adrian’s eyes flicked upward.
“Yes.”
The answer was simple.
Unapologetic.
Selina forced herself not to react.
“For what?”
“Strategy.”
The word sounded clinical.
But Selina knew better now.
Strategy meant hours of discussion.
Strategy meant two people in a room thinking faster together than anyone else around them.
Strategy meant the thing she could not compete with.
Selina picked up her coffee again.
“What time?”
“Late afternoon.”
She nodded slowly.
“Of course.”
Adrian frowned slightly.
“What does that mean?”
“Nothing.”
“Selina—”
“I said nothing.”
The tension in the room thickened.
Adrian set the tablet down.
“You’re doing it again.”
“Doing what?”
“Turning everything into a confrontation.”
Selina let out a quiet laugh.
“I’m not confronting you.”
“It feels like it.”
“That’s because you’re defensive.”
Adrian rubbed the back of his neck.
“Maybe I’m tired.”
Selina’s expression softened briefly.
“I know.”
For a moment, the edge between them faded.
Adrian sat down at the table.
“You think I’m choosing her over you.”
Selina didn’t respond immediately.
“I think,” she said slowly, “that you’re choosing the version of yourself that exists when you’re working with her.”
Adrian blinked.
“That doesn’t make sense.”
“It does to me.”
He leaned forward.
“Explain.”
Selina hesitated.
Because putting the feeling into words made it more real.
“You’re sharper when you’re with her,” she said quietly.
“That’s because the situation demands it.”
“No,” Selina said. “You enjoy it.”
Adrian stared at her.
Selina continued.
“You enjoy the challenge. The speed. The way she pushes you.”
“That’s called respect.”
“Yes.”
Selina met his gaze.
“And maybe something else.”
Adrian’s jaw tightened.
“You’re imagining things.”
Selina shook her head slowly.
“I wish I were.”
Adrian stood abruptly.
“I don’t have time for this.”
Selina watched him walk toward the door.
“You never do.”
He paused.
But he didn’t turn around.
Selina felt the familiar ache in her chest.
“Adrian,” she said quietly.
He looked back.
“What?”
“Just answer one thing.”
“What?”
Selina took a slow breath.
“When you walk into a room and she’s there… do you feel relieved?”
Adrian frowned.
“What kind of question is that?”
“Just answer it.”
The silence stretched.
Adrian’s voice lowered.
“Yes.”
Selina nodded once.
“Thank you.”
Adrian looked confused.
“Why does that matter?”
Selina gave a sad smile.
“Because that used to be how you felt when you saw me.”
The words hit harder than she intended.
Adrian opened his mouth, searching for a response.
But nothing came.
And that silence said enough.
He left the apartment without another word.
Selina stood in the kitchen long after the door closed.
Her coffee had gone cold.
Across the city, Adrian arrived at the office earlier than expected.
His assistant stood when he entered.
“You’re early.”
“I know.”
“You have thirty minutes before your first call.”
“Good.”
Adrian walked into his office and closed the door.
For a moment, he simply stood there.
Selina’s words replayed in his mind.
Do you feel relieved when she’s there?
The answer had come too quickly.
Too honestly.
Adrian walked to the window.
The city below was already moving—traffic threading through streets, people crossing intersections, the endless machinery of urban life continuing without pause.
He pulled out his phone.
There was a message waiting.
From Vanesa.
We need to review the latest developments before the board meeting.
Short.
Direct.
Professional.
Adrian stared at the message longer than necessary.
Then he typed a response.
Agreed. This afternoon.
He set the phone down.
But something about Selina’s voice lingered in his mind.
Because she hadn’t sounded angry.
She had sounded… tired.
And that worried him more.
Across the city, Vanesa stood in front of a wall of screens in the strategy room, reviewing a series of reports.
Nathaniel stood beside her.
“You’re pushing this faster than expected,” he said.
Vanesa didn’t look away from the screen.
“We’re running out of time.”
Nathaniel studied her profile.
“Adrian knows?”
“Not yet.”
“You’re meeting him today.”
“Yes.”
Nathaniel crossed his arms.
“So you’ll tell him then.”
Vanesa hesitated.
“I’m not sure.”
Nathaniel raised an eyebrow.
“That’s unlike you.”
Vanesa exhaled quietly.
“The last time we discussed something important, it turned into a philosophical debate.”
Nathaniel smirked slightly.
“That sounds accurate.”
Vanesa finally turned toward him.
“Right now I need decisions, not debates.”
Nathaniel nodded.
“And Adrian?”
Vanesa’s expression softened for just a second.
“He still believes the system can be stabilized.”
“And you don’t.”
Vanesa looked back at the screens.
“No.”
Nathaniel studied her carefully.
“You know what this means, right?”
“Yes.”
“You’re about to make a move that will force him to choose.”
Vanesa didn’t answer.
Because she already knew.
And somewhere else in the city, Selina sat alone in the quiet apartment, staring at the empty chair across the table.
For the first time, she allowed herself to consider a possibility she had been avoiding.
Maybe the real threat wasn’t Vanesa.
Maybe the real threat was that Adrian had already begun to change.
And neither of them had noticed when it started.