Part 53
(Adrian's POV)
The air in the room changed—sharp, electric.
Alex was still standing by the doorway, soaked and trembling, but her eyes had stopped moving; they were locked on Leah.
Leah didn't look away.
Adrian felt caught between them, the silence so dense it felt like pressure against his ribs.
He took one step back, but both women mirrored him unconsciously—each a reflection of something he didn't understand anymore.
"Stop," he said.
His voice cracked.
Neither of them moved.
The wind outside threw rain against the window.
The sound made the room feel smaller.
Alex's fingers brushed the table edge.
Something slid—a cup, maybe, or his phone—and clattered to the floor.
The sound snapped Leah out of stillness; she reached for him, urgent, pulling his arm.
"Adrian, please—"
But Alex moved too, fast, not toward Leah, not toward him, just forward—closing the distance with an intensity that felt like gravity.
A chair tipped.
Something fragile fell, shattered.
Rain blew in from the open door, scattering petals from a vase that had been there since morning.
For a second, no one breathed.
Alex stopped inches away, eyes bright, chest heaving, soaked hair clinging to her face.
Leah froze, hand still gripping his sleeve.
And Adrian—he couldn't tell if the sound in his ears was the storm or his own heartbeat.
"This isn't what you think," Alex whispered, voice trembling now.
"I'm not here to hurt you."
But her expression said something else—something desperate, wild, and certain.
The room felt like it might burst.