Aching for Adam

Chapter 8

As I looked into his eyes, everything else faded away. I had expected to see him tonight. I had expected it would be hard. But I had never expected it to be this bad. I could barely keep my gaze locked with his.

After all this time, how could he still have that effect on me? I thought I had made peace with my decision to leave him—or maybe I'd just refused to let myself regret it. And now, here he was, standing in front of me, his gaze piercing into my soul, as though trying to communicate a thousand words without speaking a single one.

A chill ran up and down my spine. Goosebumps prickled my arms, and tears threatened to spill. It hit me so hard I had no choice but to whisper, "I'm sorry," before scrambling away, desperate to hide the sudden flood of emotion. Irrational, but undeniable.

I found a shadowed corner at the edge of the house and decided it was hidden well enough to let a few tears fall while I fought to collect myself.

"Elle, are you okay?"

He had followed me.

I turned, blinking as the last of the tears slid down my cheeks. Too late to hide it—he had undoubtedly seen. Seeing him, his family, the life I'd missed these last few years—the life that could have been mine if I hadn't left. Would it have been us standing at the altar tonight? The torture of wondering if I'd made the right decision was unbearable, especially knowing it was too late for another chance.

"I'm fine," I whispered, afraid my voice would tremble if I spoke louder.

"Talk to me. What's going on?" His face was etched with concern. His arm lifted halfway, then stopped short, as though he didn't trust himself to touch me.

It only made it worse—seeing him try to be there for me, when opening up to him still felt like the most natural thing in the world.

"I guess it's just... seeing you again. This is ridiculous, I'm sorry. You must think I'm pathetic." I swallowed hard and forced myself to go on. "I don't want to make things awkward. Please, go back and enjoy the party."

The guilt burned. Because I had made things awkward before—at the end, when leaving him had been so hard I'd forced him to push me out the door. Not because he wanted me gone, but because the pain had been too much. He'd needed me to rip the bandage off. I'd seen that almost immediately after leaving. But at the time, all I'd wanted was for him to comfort me—even though he was the one person who couldn't.

"Please... don't say that. I'm the one who's sorry. To be honest, seeing you again—it feels like torture." He sighed. 

He stepped closer. Tentatively, then again, until his hand brushed my arm.

I glanced up at him, then down at his hand, my pulse hammering.

When another tear slipped down my cheek, his hand lifted instinctively to wipe it away. His touch lingered. Another step closer.

My heart pounded so hard it hurt. I wanted to leap into his arms, kiss him until I couldn't breathe, taste his lips, feel his body. I wanted him—completely, right here, right now. It felt like the world had narrowed into this single moment, just the two of us in our private bubble.

If he took one more step, I wouldn't be able to resist.

And then he did.

As if he'd read my thoughts, he pulled me into him and crushed his lips against mine.

Need roared through me like a wave breaking. I clawed at him, tugging his clothes, pulling him closer. His hand fisted in my hair while I pressed against him with everything I had. It still wasn't enough.

He pushed me gently back against the wall, his hand sliding up my thigh through the slit of my dress. Heat flared in my core. He hooked my leg around his hip, his hand trailing down to grip my ass.

I could barely stifle the moans rising in my throat. If we didn't stop now, I wouldn't stop at all.

Almost as if he sensed it, he slowed. His lips moved to my neck, hot breath against my skin, his growl vibrating against me. The kisses softened, slowed, until he finally lifted his head. His eyes—green and burning—were dark with desire.

Then Adam blinked, looked down, and stepped back. He shook his head once, muttered, "Sorry," and bolted.

I stood frozen, breathless. "What just happened?" I whispered to myself.

Alone, I smoothed my hair, adjusted my dress, and forced my face into composure before heading back toward the party.

I scanned the gardens, trying to appear casual, not like I was searching for him. But he wasn't there.

My eyes fell instead on the bride, gazing at her groom as though he was the most extraordinary man alive. And I wondered if I'd ever know what it felt like to look at a husband that way.

Tears threatened again. As much as it hurt to admit, I knew I couldn't stay.

I said a quick goodnight to Suzie and Nathan, driven by the need to flee to the safety of my hotel room. I couldn't bear one more minute here.

Thank God I'd had the sense to book a room nearby. Driving home in this storm of pain, shock, and confusion would have been impossible.