Stolen by Fate

Chapter 6: The Unspoken Truth

Chapter 6: The Unspoken Truth

Time passed in strange, blurry fragments. Days turned into weeks, and weeks into months, yet every morning felt like a delicate balance between captivity and something that I couldn't quite name. Adrian hadn't let me leave, but he hadn't kept me locked away in the shadows either. Instead, he'd given me freedom within the walls of this secluded place—a freedom that felt both suffocating and oddly comforting.

I wasn't sure what was worse—the fact that I still wanted to escape or the fact that some part of me didn't.

Today was different. There was a tension in the air, something unspoken hanging between us. Adrian had been acting strangely for the past few days, quieter than usual, his sharp gaze lingering on me in ways I couldn't decipher.

He was in the kitchen now, moving around with a practiced ease I still found surprising. I leaned against the doorway, watching him chop vegetables with precision. I'd come to realize Adrian was good at everything he did—cooking included.

The smell of roasted garlic and herbs filled the air, making my stomach growl. It was another strange part of this new life—sitting down to meals that Adrian cooked. Meals that were always carefully prepared, as if this was some normal domestic arrangement. As if we weren't two people locked in a twisted game, one where I was supposed to be the prey, and he was supposed to be the predator.

"You've been quiet," Adrian said, not looking up from the cutting board.

I shifted my weight, unsure how to respond. "Just thinking."

He paused, glancing at me from under those long lashes, his gaze piercing. "Thinking about what?"

I bit my lip. This was the moment. The moment I'd been waiting for—the one where I finally demanded answers. But now that it was here, my throat felt tight, and the words stuck in my mouth. I crossed the room slowly, sitting down at the island counter as I watched him.

"I want to know why," I said, my voice soft but firm.

Adrian set down the knife, wiping his hands on a towel before turning to face me fully. His expression didn't change, but something flickered in his eyes—something I hadn't seen before. Vulnerability? Regret? It was gone before I could really place it.

"You deserve an explanation," he said quietly, walking over and leaning against the counter across from me. "But it's not what you think, Ma. It never was."

I held my breath, my heart racing in my chest. "Then what is it?"

He crossed his arms over his chest, his eyes fixed on mine. "I didn't bring you here to hurt you. I know you think that's all this is—some twisted game I'm playing, some sick power trip. But I'm not who you think I am."

I frowned, confusion settling in. "Then why?"

Adrian looked away, his jaw tightening. "Because you were in danger."

I blinked, completely thrown off by his answer. "What? From who?"

His eyes darkened, and when he looked back at me, there was a hardness there I hadn't seen before. "There are people who wanted you. People who would've taken you—hurt you—if I hadn't stepped in. I did what I had to do."

I stared at him, trying to process his words. "So... this was about protecting me?"

He nodded, his face serious. "It was never about trapping you, Ma. It was about keeping you safe."

My mind reeled. How could that be true? How could taking me from my life, locking me away in this house, somehow be for my protection?

"You could've told me," I whispered. "You didn't have to... do all of this."

Adrian's expression softened. "You wouldn't have believed me. You barely trust me now, and it's been months. Back then? You would've run straight into their arms without knowing what you were walking into."

I sat there, stunned. Part of me wanted to believe him—to believe that this nightmare had a reason. But the other part, the part that had been fighting for my freedom, screamed at me to be cautious.

"Why now?" I asked. "Why tell me this after all this time?"

Adrian sighed, running a hand through his dreads. He seemed to hesitate for a moment, as if weighing his words. "Because I can see it in your eyes, Ma. You hate me less than you used to." He gave a half-smile, though it didn't reach his eyes. "And maybe... maybe I hate myself a little less for what I've done."

I looked away, unsure of how to respond to that. He wasn't wrong. I didn't hate him the way I used to. It was still complicated, this mess we were tangled in, but the raw anger had faded. In its place was... something else.

"I should've told you sooner," he added quietly. "But I wasn't sure if you'd believe me. Or if you'd hate me more for it."

"I don't know what to think," I admitted. "This whole time, I thought... I thought you were doing this because you wanted control."

Adrian shook his head. "I never wanted to control you, Ma. I just needed you safe."

There was a long silence between us, the weight of everything hanging in the air. Finally, Adrian pushed himself off the counter and returned to the stove, stirring the pan of vegetables he'd been cooking.

"Dinner's almost ready," he said, his voice lighter now, almost casual. "I'm making that pasta you liked."

I watched him for a moment, my mind still spinning with everything he'd just revealed. There were so many questions I still had, but I wasn't sure I wanted to ask them right now. Not when the air between us felt this fragile.

Instead, I let the conversation shift, and we ate together like we had for the past few months—talking about small things, the kind of things that made life here feel normal in a way it never should have. He told me about his time traveling in Europe, about his favorite cities, and I told him stories about my childhood, memories I hadn't thought about in years. It felt easy, and I hated that it did.

Months passed like this. Slowly, cautiously, Adrian and I grew closer. It wasn't the kind of connection I'd expected—there was still tension, still moments where I wanted to scream at him, to demand answers. But there was also laughter. Soft touches. Conversations that went deep into the night.

And then, one day, he gave me something I never thought he would.

It was early evening, the sun setting behind the mountains, casting everything in a golden glow. I was sitting by the window, watching the colors melt into the horizon, when Adrian walked in, holding a small box in his hand.

I raised an eyebrow. "What's that?"

He smiled, that playful glint back in his eyes. "Open it."

I took the box, hesitating for a second before opening it. Inside was a phone. Brand new, sleek, and simple.

My heart skipped a beat as I looked up at him. "A phone?"

He nodded, sliding his hands into his pockets. "I figured you might want a way to connect with the outside world. Talk to your family, your friends... within reason."

"Within reason?" I repeated, narrowing my eyes.

"There are parental controls," he admitted with a small shrug. "You can call, text, use the internet, but I'll know if you try to call someone you're not supposed to. And I can track it. I'm not stupid."

I stared at the phone in my hands, a mix of gratitude and frustration swirling inside me. This was a lifeline, but it came with strings—just like everything else.

Still, it was something.

I glanced up at Adrian, his expression unreadable. "Why now?" I asked quietly.

He walked over, standing close enough that I could feel the warmth of his body next to mine. "Because you've earned it, Ma. You've earned my trust. And maybe I've earned yours too."

I swallowed hard, my chest tight with emotions I couldn't quite name. We were both changing—slowly, cautiously—but we were changing. And somehow, that terrified me more than anything else.