Chapter Thirty-Four
The villa was quiet in the late afternoon, bathed in the soft amber glow of the sun. Shadows stretched across the floor, touching the corners of the living room where Elena sat curled on the couch, knees drawn to her chest. A book lay open on her lap, though she hadn't read a word. Her mind wandered instead, replaying fragments of the past few weeks—the laughter, the long walks along the cliffs, the quiet mornings with sunlight and coffee, the way Adrian looked at her when he thought she wasn't noticing.
Every memory felt like a small miracle, proof that love could be simple, even after so much pain. But a question pressed at her chest—one she had been avoiding: When would Adrian speak his truth?
The front door clicked softly, and her heart skipped. Adrian stepped in, carrying a small tray with two glasses of iced tea and a pitcher of water. His gray eyes met hers, searching, uncertain.
