The jet flew through the night like a sharp blade.
Adrian was in the cabin all alone, his hands together, looking as the city lights disappeared under the clouds. He had not informed his board where he was heading. Nobody knew where he was going. If he had mentioned it to anyone, by sunrise, every news outlet would be reporting that he had left Manhattan. Let them guess.
He was not running from guilt; he was heading toward something he never wanted to lose again.
Two days ago, his penthouse was packed with reporters, and drones were buzzing around like they owned the place. They dropped some documents that were leaked, although they were manipulated, they looked real enough, and the documents linked him to offshore accounts.
Claire wouldn't stop calling. Liam was on his case, he kept telling him to keep a low profile. But Adrian didn't listen to either of them. In all the chaos and the headlines, one text hit him hard.
"She's gone"
He had no idea who sent it, but he understood the message. Maya had left the city. Again. He spent that night chasing every possible lead, her gallery, her old apartment, the art co-op where she taught kids. Nothing turned up. Then he got a delivery invoice in her name.
The destination: "Windmere Cove, Maine." A tiny spot with about 2,000 people, just big enough to miss something, but maybe not a broken heart.
When Adrian drove into Windmere, the fog was thick, like smoke, covering everything. The air carried a mix of salt, pine, and a hint of old memories. He passed by cute little cottages and uneven docks until his GPS lost signal. All he had was the ocean and quiet.
For the first time in ages, he had no plans, no schedule, his assistant was not there to feed him with updates and schedules. The only thing on his mind was just her name, settled in his heart, guiding him. He stopped at the one diner in town, a small, white building with some paint missing and a sign that said "Rosie's." Inside, the coffee had a burnt smell, and the floorboards creaked like they'd seen better days.
He met the waitress, a woman in her fifties who had gentle eyes. She enquired:
"Long drive?"
"Yeah,"
Adrian replied, his voice a bit rough. "I'm looking for someone. Maya Lin."
Her smile faded a little.
"Maya? The artist?"
His heart raced. "You know her?"
"Everyone here knows her," she said cautiously. "She runs the art studio by the docks, teaches the kids, and helps with the fair. She is a good woman."
Adrian felt a bit relieved. "Thank you."
But just as he was about to leave, her voice stopped him. "She's not really… taking visitors at the moment. You might want to give her some space, mister."
He looked her in the eye. "I've already given her too much space."
Maya's studio was right by the harbor, a converted boathouse with big windows and paint splatters on the deck. From a distance, Adrian could see her through the glass, she had her hair tied up, with a bit of color on her cheek, sleeves rolled up as she bent over a canvas. For a moment, he felt breathless. The sight of her seemed alive, working, and at peace, and it hit him hard. He almost left. Almost. But then she glanced up. Their eyes connected through the glass. They both froze.
For a brief moment, it felt like time slowed down, as though the world was melting away to that one heartbeat, the space between them filled with tension. Then she put her brush down and walked outside.
The wind tossed her hair as she looked at him. "You shouldn't be here."
"I needed to see you."
"You don't get to say that anymore." Her voice shook, but her eyes were firm.
"You think you can vanish for months, mess up everything we built, and just show up like everything is all fine?"
He swallowed. "I'm not looking for excuses or forgiveness."
"Then why?"
"It's because I lost myself when I lost you."
Her jaw set. "You didn't lose me, Adrian. You chose to let me go."
The silence that followed between them felt heavier than the ocean out there.
"I'm not the same guy I used to be," he said softly. "You said you didn't want my world, so I walked away from it all."
She let out a bitter laugh. "You think walking away from the mess is the same as changing?"
He flinched.
So she had seen the headlines.
"You can believe whatever you want," he said, trying to keep his tone steady. "But I'm not leaving this time."
Maya crossed her arms, the wind pulling at her sleeves. "You don't belong here. This town is not a hiding place."
"I'm not hiding."
"Then what are you doing?"
Adrian glanced past her at the gray sea, the world that wasn't his. "I'm just trying to find something worth staying for."
Her breath caught for a moment, then she turned away.
"Then you're already too late," she said as she headed inside. "I already learned how to stay without you."
He stayed outside long after she was gone. The fog thickened, hiding the horizon. In the distance, a bell buoy tolled, its sound deep and mournful. He had the option to turn and leave at that moment, yet he chose not to. Instead, he turned his gaze toward the harbor, where an old flyer was attached to a post. He studied it for a time as the rain started to fall. Gradually, a confident, almost dangerous smile spread across his face, the kind of smile that belonged to someone who could build empires from scratch. If she wished for him to leave, she would have to allow him to stay around.
That night, Maya found herself in her studio, the storm causing the windows to tremble. She reassured herself that it didn't matter, that he would be gone by dawn. However, as the thunder echoed over the water, she caught sight of a lone figure in the rain, standing just outside her studio door, drenched by the rain. She placed her hand against the glass, her heart quickening.
"Adrian…" she murmured.
In that moment, a flash of lightning illuminated the space, and he was gone.