The ceremony had ended beautifully, but Elena barely remembered any of it. Her mind was too foggy, too full, too heavy with the weight of Adrian's stare burning into her back throughout the vows.
Everyone moved toward the reception hall. Laughter, music, champagne glasses clinking. It should've been a light moment. But Elena felt something closing in on her… something dark, familiar, and unsettling.
She excused herself, needing a moment of air. The hallway outside the reception was quiet, dim, lined with candles and soft shadows.
She didn't expect him to follow.
But she felt him before she heard him —
that shift in the air,
that slow, controlled presence that always wrapped around her like heat.
"Elena."
Her heart jumped.
She turned.
Adrian stood a few steps away, hands in his pockets, jaw clenched so tightly the vein in his neck pulsed. His suit jacket strained over his shoulders, his hair slightly undone from the wind outside.
He looked furious.
But contained.
Dangerously contained.
She swallowed. "What are you doing here? You should be with the others."
He took one step closer. "I was."
Another step.
She backed away instinctively until her spine brushed the wall.
"I was," he repeated softly, "until I realized you've been avoiding me all day."
Her breath caught. "I haven't—"
"You have."
His voice dropped lower.
He caged her between his arms, hands resting on the wall beside her head.
Close.
Too close.
Her pulse stuttered.
"Tell me," he murmured, gaze burning into hers, "is it because of him?"
Her stomach tightened. "Adrian—"
"Daniel."
He said the name like it tasted bitter.
Like it offended him.
"You were glued to him today."
His eyes flicked down her lips for half a second, then back up.
"Laughing with him. Leaning on him. Letting him touch you."
Her breath trembled. "He's my friend."
"Your friend," Adrian repeated slowly, as if testing the word.
"Is that what you want me to believe?"
The hallway felt too hot. She pushed weakly against his chest, but he didn't move even an inch.
"You have no right to question me," she whispered.
Adrian's eyes darkened.
"I don't?"
He leaned in, his breath brushing her cheek.
"Then why does it bother you so much when Leela talks to me?"
She froze.
He smirked — just slightly, but it wasn't playful. It was knowing. Dangerous.
"You thought I didn't notice?" he murmured.
"The way you looked at us last night? Like you wanted to rip her off me?"
"I didn't—"
"Elena," he cut in, voice husky, "don't lie to me. Not about this."
Silence thickened between them.
His hand left the wall and slipped down, fingers brushing her waist — not fully touching, but close enough to make her skin erupt with heat.
"Tell me," he whispered, "are you doing this to punish me?"
Her lips parted, breath shaky. "Doing what?"
"Running to Daniel."
Her heart thrashed.
"I didn't run to anyone," she said quietly. "I just needed space."
"From me."
His voice cracked with something raw — frustration, jealousy, longing twisted together.
She didn't answer.
He stepped even closer, their bodies almost touching. The scent of him — cedar, warmth, danger — wrapped around her like a spell.
"You think I didn't see the way he looks at you?" Adrian murmured, eyes dropping to her mouth again.
"Like he's waiting for you to choose him."
Her chest tightened painfully.
"This isn't about Daniel," she whispered.
He tilted her chin up gently — too gently for the storm inside him.
"Then who is it about?"
His voice roughened.
"Because if it's about me… I need to hear it."
Her breath shook as his thumb brushed her jaw, barely a touch, but enough to unravel her.
"Adrian… this isn't the place—"
"I don't care about the place."
His lips hovered a breath above hers.
"I care about you."
Her knees weakened.
His jealousy wasn't loud.
It wasn't dramatic.
It wasn't cruel.
It was worse.
It was quiet.
Contained.
Obsessive.
And it burned all the way through her.
"Elena," he whispered, his forehead touching hers now, "I need to know."
She closed her eyes.
"Are you really choosing him…?"
Silence.
His fingers curled against her waist at last, not tentative anymore — claiming.
"…or are you just running from what you feel when you're with me?"
Her breath left her body in a shudder.
This wasn't a question.
It was a challenge.
A confession carved in jealousy and fire.
And she felt the truth swelling in her chest, overwhelming, terrifying, impossible to hide.
Her voice barely made it out.
"I'm not choosing anyone."
Adrian exhaled — a slow, relieved, tortured sound.
But he didn't kiss her.
He didn't move.
He just held her there in that burning space between them.
A promise waiting to break.