Aching for Adam

Chapter 11

ADAM

As I did every day, I woke at 5 a.m. I could always count on my internal clock to ruin my nights, even on weekends.

But today, not even the lack of sleep from being with Elle last night, or waking at this ridiculous hour, could ruin my morning.

Waking up to her peacefully asleep in my arms, the corners of her mouth twitching as she dreamed, was like heaven.

Her brown hair was splayed across the pillow, her angelic face—the face I always imagined my daughter would have—glowing in the first rays of sunlight sneaking through the curtains.

I had tried to make the night last as long as possible. If it was our last night together, the last time I would hold her, I wanted to cherish every second. I'd thought that the first time I claimed her would calm the fire, but it only made me crave her more.

Thank God we had all night, because I was completely out of control the minute I touched her. Watching her, hearing her come undone around me, had felt like pure utopia. I never wanted it to stop. Having her react so strongly to my every touch was the most erotic thing I could imagine—especially knowing she had chosen to be with me, even after all this time.

I wanted her again like I needed to breathe. I wanted to wake her in the sweetest way possible, my mouth on her lips, just to hear her whisper my name. But for some reason, I couldn't bring myself to do it.

She smiled in her sleep and my heart clenched. What is she dreaming about?

"Rick," she mumbled.

I swear my chest split open at that moment. A cruel reminder she wasn't mine to claim. She was with someone else. And although we'd shared an unbelievable night, I couldn't risk her waking to tell me it hadn't meant anything. That would kill me.

I slipped carefully from the covers and dressed.

I needed to let her go, let her live her life—even if I couldn't move on with mine. We had last night, and it was more than I'd ever hoped for again.

Leaning down, I pressed a kiss to her forehead, trying to etch her features and scent into memory. Then I left, exiting her life for good.

____

ELLE

Sunlight seeped through the crack in the curtains and woke me. I reached out groggily and realized I was alone in bed.

"Adam?" I called softly, but the room was silent.

Waking from another nightmare—Rick cheating, a dream I'd had countless times—and finding myself alone instead of curled in Adam's arms was not what I expected.

I rolled over and checked my phone. No messages, no voicemails, nothing. A tight ache squeezed my chest.

Maybe he'll show up with coffee and breakfast, like in the movies, I told myself. I got dressed, brushed my teeth, and sat on the edge of the bed waiting.

An hour passed.

He never came back.

I gathered my things, checked out, and drove home—to my apartment, my boring life, to Rick.

Last night had been one of the most unbelievable of my life, and although waking up without Adam made my heart ache, at least we would always have that night. I would try to remember the look in his eyes while he made love to me—not the clear message that it hadn't meant as much to him as it had to me.

Maybe he regretted it.

"Elle, don't go down that rabbit hole," I told myself firmly, inhaling deep.

I cringed when Rick kissed my cheek; he reeked of beer. My place was a mess, and he didn't even bother to say if he'd slept here last night.

As he turned toward the kitchen, I caught his wrist before I could stop myself.

"Rick, have you ever cheated on me?" The disgust I felt for him, the pain of Adam leaving without a word, and the empowerment of last night—all of it collided and gave me the courage to finally ask.

He froze, yanked his wrist free, and turned with wide eyes.

"What? Why are you asking me that? Where is this coming from? What the fuck?" His face shifted from surprise to anger. "Who put this in your head, huh?" He stepped toward me.

"Calm down, just answer the question," I pressed. Rick got angry easily, but I don't think he'd be the type to hurt me. I stood my ground.

"No, of course not, what the actual fuck?" He turned away. "I'm gonna hit the head." With that, he disappeared into the bathroom.

The funny thing was, whatever the truth was, it didn't even matter. I didn't want to spend another second of my life with him. I'd rather be alone. And although I'd never been sure before, now it was clear. I had no respect for him, no love, and no interest in wasting another ounce of energy on him.

"Rick, come out of the bathroom. We need to talk."

He opened the door quickly, wary. At the very least, he knew me. And though I rarely used a commanding tone, when I did, he usually listened.

"What? You gonna accuse me some more?" His eyes were defiant.

"No. Rick, you and I both know this isn't working. It hasn't been for a long time. We need to end it. I'm not happy, and I don't think you are either." My voice wavered, but the words felt solid.

"Are you serious? Is this because you think I cheated?" He didn't look angry now, just surprised.

"No. You know it isn't."

"Alright, fine. If that's what you want." He took a deep breath, a flash of hurt mixing with what looked like relief. "But don't come back in two weeks saying you regret it, 'cause it'll be too late." He added, "I'll pick up my stuff before the end of the day." Then he slammed the door.

Wow. After three years, I thought he'd need more than two lines before walking out.

Rick wasn't the type to show weakness. His reaction surprised me, but I knew he'd still have mixed emotions. At the very least, his ego had to be bruised.

In any case, if I'd ever had doubts, I didn't anymore.

I exhaled in relief, grabbed my keys, and knew exactly what I needed: to sort through my emotions—starting with Tam.