Chapter 58 ACCELERATED TIMELINE
POV: Selena
The phone rings while I am still standing in my mother’s hospital room, staring at the flowers like they might grow teeth.
I want them gone. I want everything that touched Thornton’s hands gone. I reach for the vase, then stop when Rosa stirs. I don’t move it. I won’t risk waking her.
Adrian answers the call in the hallway. I can hear his voice through the glass, low and controlled. I know that tone now. Decisions are being made without asking if anyone is ready.
When he comes back in, his jacket is already on.
“We need to move fast,” he says.
I nod. “Tell me how fast.”
“Tonight,” he replies. “Security is doubling. Marcus is relocating your mother to a private wing once the doctors clear it. No names on the door. No flowers allowed.”
“And Thornton?”
“He’s circling,” Adrian says. “The card was a reminder. He wants us to hesitate.”
I look down at my mother. Her breathing is even. She looks peaceful, like she’s resting after a long shift instead of recovering from nearly dying.
“I won’t hesitate,” I say.
Adrian watches me for a second. “There’s more.”
I straighten. “Say it.”
“The courthouse wedding,” he says. “We’re moving it to tomorrow.”
Tomorrow.
The word lands hard, but it doesn’t knock me down.
“Okay,” I say.
He studies my face. “That’s it?”
“We don’t have time to pretend this is normal,” I reply. “If it protects her, we do it.”
Adrian lets out a breath like he’s been holding it since the hospital card appeared. He steps closer, lowering his voice. “Jessica agreed to testify.”
I blink. “Publicly?”
“Yes.”
“She’s terrified.”
“She is,” he agrees. “She also said she’s tired of hiding.”
I nod slowly. “So am I.”
The day collapses into a series of short conversations and long waits. Doctors. Lawyers. Security briefings that sound like weather reports for a storm already overhead. Marcus speaks in clipped sentences. Bella keeps a hand on my shoulder when my attention drifts.
Rosa is transferred before sunset. I walk beside the gurney, my fingers wrapped around the rail like I can anchor her to the earth by grip alone.
“You’re not allowed to disappear,” I tell her quietly.
Her eyes flutter open for a moment. “Neither are you,” she murmurs, then sleeps again.
By the time Adrian and I reach the penthouse, the city is lit up like it doesn’t know anything is wrong.
I kick off my shoes and sit on the edge of the couch, suddenly aware of how tired I am. Adrian pours water, sets it in my hand without asking.
“You haven’t eaten,” he says.
“I will later.”
“You won’t.”
I take a sip anyway.
Silence stretches between us, not uncomfortable but loaded. Tomorrow hangs in the air, unnamed.
“Are you scared?” he asks.
“Yes,” I answer. “Are you?”
“Of losing you,” he says. “Not of marrying you.”
I look at him then. Really look. The lines at the corners of his eyes. The steadiness beneath the chaos.
“I don’t want this to be a shield,” I say. “I don’t want to wake up one day and wonder if we only survived because we hid behind paperwork.”
He kneels in front of me. Takes my hands. “This isn’t hiding,” he says. “It’s choosing.”
“Choosing under pressure,” I reply.
“Most choices are,” he says.
Night comes quietly. Too quietly.
I lie in bed staring at the ceiling, counting the seconds between city sounds. Adrian’s side of the bed is empty when I finally sit up.
I find him on the balcony, jacket draped over the chair, phone dark in his hand.
“You couldn’t sleep either,” I say.
He turns. “No.”
I step beside him. The city feels far away from up here, like a picture instead of a place.
“Are you sure about this?” I ask. “About me?”
He doesn’t answer right away. He reaches for me, pulling me close, his hand warm at my back.
“I’ve never been more sure of anything,” he says.
I rest my forehead against his chest. I let myself believe him.
The phone rings.
He stiffens. Pulls it out. Answers.
“Yes,” he says. Then quieter. “We’ll come now.”
He ends the call and looks at me.
“It’s the hospital,” he says. “My father is awake. He’s asking for both of us.”
The city keeps glowing as if nothing has changed.
But everything has.