Chapter Six – A Simple Happiness
It's been a week since Adrian was discharged from the hospital, and moved into Elena's Apartment, it was also this period that he got to know where he was after Elena introduced Willow's Creek, this small, almost forgotten town. Quiet, close knit, everyone knows everyone, almost no secrets are unknown to your neighbour and rumours travels around, under five minutes everyone knows what's happening, and you get your neighbours protection and help whenever you need it that she grew up in, and she also happens to works at the only bakery in town owned by Mrs. Carson a kind older woman who lost her husband at a young age leaving her with three boys to raise, although the boys had all left Willow's Creek to other parts of the country and world to pursue their passions.
Elena had also bought him second hand clothes before he moved in with her, making Adrian unable to know how to express his thanks to her, and so far they were able to live peacefully with no discontentment on Elena's part.
The morning air in carried the scent of freshly baked bread and damp earth after a light drizzle. Adrian followed Elena through the narrow cobblestone streets, his tall frame slightly hunched, as though he still wasn't used to the way people stared. He wasn't sure if they were curious about him or just naturally nosy in this small town where everyone seemed to know everyone else.
For Adrian, every day was still a blur—a silent tug-of-war between frustration at not knowing who he was and a strange peace whenever Elena was near. She didn't treat him like a fragile man who had lost everything. She teased, scolded, and guided him like he belonged in her world.
"This way," Elena said, pushing open the wooden door to the bakery. A sweet wave of cinnamon and butter hit him instantly. His lips parted, and his stomach grumbled.
She glanced at him and smirked. "Guess someone approves."
Adrian gave a faint smile. "It smells… warm. Familiar somehow."
Elena tried not to notice the softness in his voice, or the way he looked at the pastries lined on the counter with almost childlike wonder. She had brought him here because she wanted him to do something—anything—that would make him feel useful again. Even if it was small.
"You'll help here until you find a better job," Elena said firmly. "I spoke to Mrs. Carson—she owns the bakery. She's willing to let you try."
Adrian raised a brow. "You trust me not to burn the place down?"
Elena folded her arms. "You'll be under my watch. Besides, there's something about you that says you're capable of more than you think."
He tilted his head, studying her as if trying to find hidden meaning in her words. "Why do you… keep doing this for me? Feeding me, bringing me here, making sure I don't collapse on the street?"
The question was simple, but it made Elena pause. She hadn't thought too deeply about it—at least she didn't want to. "Because," she said slowly, "everyone deserves a chance to stand on their own two feet. And maybe… because when you asked me not to leave you, it felt like I couldn't."
Silence lingered. Adrian looked down, his jaw tightening as though he was trying to fight something inside. He wanted to say more, but instead he nodded. "Then I'll try not to disappoint you."
---
The first hour in the bakery was chaos. Adrian nearly dropped a tray of croissants, burned his fingers trying to move a hot pan, and earned a scolding from Mrs. Carson for kneading the dough like he was fighting an enemy. Elena laughed so hard she had to cover her mouth.
"You're enjoying this," Adrian muttered, frowning at his flour-covered hands.
"Just a little," Elena admitted, giggling. "You look… less intimidating with flour on your face."
He rubbed his cheek where she pointed, only smearing it worse. Her laughter deepened, and for a moment, Adrian forgot about the hollow space in his mind. He forgot about who he was supposed to be. All he knew was that her smile did something to him—it eased the ache he carried.
By midday, he had improved slightly. He learned how to package loaves neatly and even managed to help an elderly woman choose pastries without looking completely lost. The woman had patted his arm and whispered, "Such a polite young man. Elena, you should keep this one."
Elena had flushed red, quickly waving off the comment. Adrian, on the other hand, kept replaying the words in his mind, not because of embarrassment, but because of the strange warmth they brought.
---
That evening, as they walked back to Elena's apartment, the sky painted itself in hues of amber and violet. Adrian carried a small bag of leftover bread, insisting on holding it despite Elena's protests.
"You didn't have to work so hard," she said, stealing a glance at him. "Mrs. Carson already likes you. She said you picked things up faster than most new hands."
Adrian's lips curved slightly. "It felt… good. Like I belong somewhere. Even if it's just stacking bread."
Elena softened at his words. For someone who probably once lived in luxury, he didn't complain about doing the simplest tasks. Instead, he embraced them. That gentleness—his gratitude for the smallest kindness—was what tugged at her heart.
They reached her doorstep, and Adrian hesitated. "Thank you, Elena. For today. For… everything."
Her chest tightened. She opened her mouth to tell him it was nothing, but the sincerity in his gaze stopped her. He meant it. Every word.
"You're welcome," she whispered.
As he stepped inside, she thought about the first time she had seen him, broken and unconscious in the hospital bed. She hadn't known then why she couldn't walk away. Now, she was starting to understand. He wasn't just a stranger anymore.
He was becoming a part of her simple happiness.
---
Adrian lay awake later that night on the small couch Elena had offered him. His body ached from the day's work, but his mind wouldn't rest. Images flickered in the darkness—flashes of lights, city buildings, a sharp voice calling his name. Then nothing.
He exhaled sharply. His memory refused to return, yet the strange thing was… a part of him didn't mind. Not when Elena was near.
He turned his head toward the closed door of her room. He didn't know who he was before, but here, in this quiet town, with her… he almost felt like he could start over.
And that thought scared him more than forgetting ever did.