The community center buzzed with Saturday chaos again, and Elena had convinced herself she could ignore Adrian's presence.
It worked for the first half-hour. She helped children mix paints, guided tiny hands with brushes, even laughed when Mira painted a streak of green across her own cheek to entertain the group.
But Adrian was there. Always there. His low voice carrying across the room, his tall frame moving between tables, his patience both surprising and infuriating.
She caught herself watching him more than once. And each time, his eyes flicked up at the exact moment, catching her in the act.
By the end of class, she was raw with awareness.
---
Cleaning Up
When the last child had left, Mira announced she was running to grab pastries from the café next door. "Don't kill each other while I'm gone," she said with a wink, leaving Elena and Adrian alone.
The silence stretched. Elena busied herself with rinsing brushes, but her hands trembled.
Finally, Adrian spoke. "You've gotten good at this."
She glanced back. "At what?"
"Pretending."
Her breath hitched. "I'm not pretending."
"Really?" He leaned against a table, his arms crossed. "You act like you don't notice me. Like this is just another Saturday. But I see it, Elena. I always see it."
Her chest tightened. "What do you want me to say?"
"The truth." His voice was sharp, but beneath it was something raw, unguarded.
Elena gripped the edge of the sink, fighting to steady her breathing. "The truth won't change anything."
Adrian's jaw clenched. "Maybe not. But silence is worse."
The room pulsed with unspoken words. She wanted to tell him everything, to beg for forgiveness. But the truth wasn't just hers—it was tangled with another name, another shadow she couldn't bear to speak aloud.
"I can't," she whispered.
Adrian's expression hardened, the flicker of vulnerability gone. "Then nothing has changed."
He turned away, gathering books with clipped precision.
And just like that, the moment was over.
---
That Night – Another Flashback
Elena dreamed again.
She was in a hallway lit by dim bulbs, the bass of music shaking the walls. Her skin was flushed, her vision blurred by drink and grief.
A hand on her arm, steadying her.
A voice, teasing yet gentle: "You deserve better, you know."
Not Adrian's voice.
She remembered leaning into it, desperate to feel wanted, desperate to feel anything but hollow.
Then lips against hers. Heat. Shame blooming even as she kissed back.
Her mind clawed away from the memory before it could reach the bed. She woke in a cold sweat, heart racing.
Her body trembled with the urge to confess — but to confess was to destroy Adrian all over again.
---
The Next Week – Mira's Interruption
At the next session, Mira noticed Elena's exhaustion immediately. "You look like you've been wrestling ghosts," she murmured.
Elena forced a smile. "Something like that."
Mira studied her, then sighed. "You're not going to tell me, are you?"
"There's nothing to tell."
Mira arched a brow. "You're a terrible liar, Elena. Always have been."
Elena laughed weakly, grateful when the children arrived to cut the conversation short.
But Adrian, across the room, caught her gaze once again. His eyes were unreadable, but Elena felt stripped bare under them.