Chapter 83

Chapter 83
KAIA

One week. It's been exactly one week since Adrien started tutoring me, and I can honestly say I'm amazed at how much progress I've made.

The essays that once seemed like impossible puzzles now flow more naturally from my pen. My arguments are stronger, my analysis deeper, and for the first time since waking up, I actually feel confident about the upcoming exam.

"Your conclusion here is really strong," Adrien says, pointing to my latest practice essay. His green eyes scan the page with genuine pride, and something warm spreads through my chest at his approval. "You've improved so much, Kaia. I'm really proud of you."

I can't help but smile at his words. This gentle, patient version of Adrien is so different from the cold, mocking figure that occasionally flashes through my fragmented memories.

Sometimes I catch myself studying his face, searching for traces of that other person—the one who once made me storm out of this very library in anger. But all I see now is kindness, concern, and something else I can't quite identify flickering in those emerald depths.

"I couldn't have done it without you," I tell him, and I mean it. "You've been... incredible. Really."

Something shifts in his expression—a flash of pain so quick I almost miss it. But then he's smiling again, that soft, encouraging smile that's become so familiar over these past seven days.

"We should look up some additional sources for your final practice essay," he suggests, closing my notebook. "There are some great literary criticism books that might give you fresh perspectives on the themes we discussed."

I nod, gathering my things as we head toward the towering bookshelves that line the far wall of the library. The familiar musty scent of old books fills my nostrils as we navigate between the stacks, searching for the section Adrien mentioned.

"Here," he says, stopping in front of a shelf that stretches well above my head. "The book we want should be... there." He points to a thick volume with a dark blue spine, positioned frustratingly out of my reach.

I stretch up on my tiptoes, my fingertips barely grazing the bottom of the book. "Almost got it," I mutter, reaching higher.

"Let me help," Adrien says, stepping behind me.

The warmth of his body presses against my back as he reaches over my head, his arm extending past mine toward the book. I can feel his breath against my hair, smell that clean, masculine scent that seems oddly familiar. My heart begins to race for reasons I don't understand.

His fingers close around the book just as mine do, and suddenly we're both pulling at it. The heavy volume slips from our combined grip and tumbles toward the floor. We both reach down simultaneously, our hands colliding as we try to catch it.

The moment our skin touches, everything changes.

A jolt of electricity shoots up my arm, but it's more than just physical. Images flood my mind—flashes of memory so vivid and intense they make me gasp. Hands intertwined with mine, but not in friendship.

The feeling of being held, cherished, loved. A kiss so tender it made my toes curl. The sound of my own laughter, pure and joyful, in response to something he said.

I jerk my hand back as if burned, staring up at Adrien with wide eyes. He's frozen too, his face pale, those green eyes dark with an emotion I recognize but can't name. We're still crouched on the floor, the fallen book forgotten between us, and the air feels charged with electricity.

"I..." I start to say, my voice barely a whisper. "That feeling... have we...?"

"Kaia," Adrien breathes, and there's something desperate in the way he says my name. His hand moves slightly toward mine, and I don't pull away this time. The air between us feels heavy with unspoken words, with secrets I can sense but not grasp.

"We weren't just tutor and student before, were we?" I ask, my heart pounding so hard I'm sure he can hear it.

Adrien's eyes widen, and I see conflict warring across his features. His lips part as if he's about to tell me something important, something that might finally fill in the blank spaces in my memory.

"Well, well. Look what we have here."

The cold voice cuts through our moment like a knife. I look up to see a tall guy with dark hair and sharp features standing at the end of our aisle. There's something familiar about him too, but unlike with Adrien, this familiarity comes with an edge of discomfort.

"Callum," Adrien says, his voice tight. He stands quickly, positioning himself slightly in front of me in a way that seems protective.

"Adrien," the newcomer—Callum—replies with obvious disdain. Then his expression softens as he looks at me. "Kaia. I heard about your accident. How are you feeling?"

There's genuine concern in his voice, which surprises me given the hostile way he's looking at Adrien. I get to my feet, brushing dust off my jeans.

"I'm... better, thank you," I say carefully.

Out of politeness, I added: "Sorry, I lost some memories from a car accident. Could you remind me what our relationship is?"

Callum's face goes through a series of expressions—surprise, confusion, then something that looks almost like grief. "You really don't remember anything, do you?"

The way he says it makes my skin crawl. There's something accusatory in his tone, and his eyes keep flicking to Adrien with barely concealed anger.

"What's that supposed to mean?" I ask, but Callum ignores me. Instead, he steps closer to Adrien, his hands clenched at his sides.

"You just couldn't leave well enough alone, could you?" Callum spits. "And this is how you take care of her? She doesn't even remember—"

"Watch it," Adrien warns, his voice dropping to a dangerous level. I've never heard him sound like this before—cold, threatening. It's like watching a different person emerge from beneath his gentle exterior.

"What's going on?" I demand, looking between them. The tension in the air is suffocating, and I feel like I'm watching a conversation in a foreign language. "Will someone please tell me what you're talking about?"

Callum laughs, but there's no humor in it. "Oh, this is rich. She doesn't even know, does she? Doesn't know that you—"

"Stop." Adrien's voice is barely above a whisper, but it carries enough menace to make Callum pause. "You need to leave. Now."

"Or what?" Callum challenges, stepping even closer.

I watch in shock as Adrien moves forward, closing the distance between them until they're almost chest to chest. The gentle tutor I've come to know over the past week has vanished completely, replaced by someone darker, more dangerous.

"Or I'll make you leave," Adrien says, his voice so low I have to strain to hear it. But the threat is unmistakable. "Stay away from Kaia. I won't tell you again."

For a moment, I think Adrien might actually start a fight right here in the library. But then he looks at me—really looks at me—and something in my confused expression seems to deflate his anger.

“That’s exactly what you deserve,” Callum said to Adrien, his voice laced with regret and hatred. After staring at me for a split second with a gaze that held both pity and longing, he finally let go of Adrien and left quietly.

Then he's gone, leaving Adrien and me standing among the scattered books in a silence that feels heavier than before.

"What the hell was that about?" I ask, turning to face Adrien. His protective stance relaxes, but his eyes remain guarded. "How do you both know me? And don't tell me you were just my tutor, because that definitely wasn't the interaction between two people who barely know each other."

Adrien runs a hand through his hair, and I can see him struggling with something internal. "Kaia, I—"

"The truth," I interrupt. "Please. I'm so tired of feeling like everyone's keeping secrets from me."

For a moment, I think he might actually tell me. I can see the war playing out across his features, the desire to be honest fighting against something that's holding him back.

"You should focus on your exam," he finally says, his voice carefully neutral. "That's what's important right now."

The dismissal stings more than I expected. "Don't," I say quietly. "Don't treat me like a child who can't handle the truth."

"I'm not—"

"You are!"

A sudden, blinding rage surged through me like wildfire, scorching every inch of my skin until my head started to throb with a dull, stabbing pain. Being in the library only made it worse—I was trapped by the silence, forced to keep a lid on it.

I leaned in close to Adrien, my voice a sharp, low-pitched whisper as I cut right through his half-assed excuse: "Everyone is. Amy, my mother, you... you're all treating me like I'm made of glass."

I grab my bag from the floor, stuffing my notebook inside with more force than necessary. "I can find the truth myself, you know. Memory loss doesn't make me helpless."

"Kaia, wait—" Adrien tried to cut me off, his voice kept as low as possible.

But I'm already walking away, my mind racing with questions and suspicions. That moment when our hands touched, the flashes of intimate memories, Callum's accusations, Adrien's protective fury—none of it fits with the story I've been told.

As I push through the library doors, one thought echoes in my mind with crystal clarity: everyone has been lying to me.

And I'm going to find out why.