Adrian doesn't answer Marcus immediately.
He just stares at the phone.
Jaw tight.
Eyes dark.
Controlled.
Too controlled.
"You're not responding," I say carefully.
"I know."
"Are you going to?"
"Yes."
"But not the way he expects."
A chill moves down my spine.
"What does that mean?"
He types something quickly.
Efficient.
Precise.
Then locks the phone and sets it face down on the counter.
"What did you say?"
"That you're unavailable."
My chest tightens.
"You didn't ask me."
"I didn't need to."
Anger sparks instantly.
"That's not your decision."
"It is."
"No, it isn't."
He steps closer.
Not aggressive.
Not loud.
But deliberate.
"You're not going on a date with another man."
"I'm not another man's wife in my head."
His eyes darken.
"You are in every legal sense."
"That's technical."
"That's binding."
The word lands heavy.
"Why are you doing this?" I demand.
"Because he doesn't get access to you while you're vulnerable."
"I'm not vulnerable."
"You don't remember the last five years."
"I'm not fragile."
"I didn't say you were."
"You're treating me like property."
His jaw flexes.
"I'm protecting what's mine."
There it is again.
Mine.
"You don't own me."
"No," he agrees calmly.
"But I refuse to share you."
My pulse jumps.
"That's toxic."
"That's honest."
The room feels smaller.
The air heavier.
"You said if I chose him with my memories intact, you'd let me go."
"Yes."
"So let me choose."
"You can."
"Then why can't I see him?"
"Because right now," he says quietly, "you're choosing from an incomplete picture."
"That's not fair."
"Neither is grief."
Silence crashes between us.
He steps closer again.
Close enough that my back nearly hits the kitchen island.
"You think I'm afraid?" he asks softly.
"Are you?"
His eyes lock onto mine.
"No."
"Then what are you?"
His voice lowers.
"I'm patient."
A shiver runs through me.
"That doesn't sound comforting."
"It's not meant to be."
My heart is pounding too fast.
"You can't control everything."
"No," he agrees.
"But I can control who walks into my home."
"This isn't just your home."
"It's ours."
"I don't feel that."
"You will."
The certainty in his voice is infuriating.
"You're so sure of me."
"I am."
"Why?"
His gaze softens just slightly.
"Because I know what you look like when you love someone."
The words land differently.
"What does that mean?"
"You don't look at Marcus the way you used to."
My stomach flips.
"You noticed that?"
"I notice everything."
Heat creeps up my neck.
"You were watching me."
"Yes."
"That's unsettling."
"It's intentional."
He doesn't even pretend otherwise.
"I need space," I say.
"You have it."
"Not if you're deciding who I can see."
"I'm deciding who enters this apartment."
"That's a technicality."
"It's a boundary."
"For who?"
"For him."
"And what if I leave?"
His expression shifts subtly.
Darker.
"You won't."
"That's arrogant."
"That's accurate."
Anger flares.
"You don't get to predict my choices."
"I don't need to predict them," he says quietly. "I remember them."
The air between us crackles.
"You're manipulating this," I accuse.
"How?"
"By keeping me here. By blocking Marcus. By controlling the environment."
He tilts his head slightly.
"Of course I am."
The blunt honesty stuns me.
"You admit it?"
"Yes."
"Why?"
"Because I'd rather you hate me while remembering the truth than love him inside a lie."
The words hit harder than they should.
"What lie?"
"He wasn't there."
My breath catches.
"For what?"
"The worst of it."
The baby.
The grief.
The breakdown.
"He doesn't know you the way I do," Adrian continues quietly.
"And you do?"
"Yes."
"You think that gives you the right to cage me?"
His eyes darken.
"You're not caged."
"It feels like it."
"Then leave."
The challenge hangs between us.
Sharp.
Heavy.
My pulse pounds.
"Are you daring me?"
"No."
His voice drops lower.
"I'm reminding you that you stay because some part of you still wants to."
That hits too close.
"I don't want you," I snap.
A muscle in his jaw flexes.
"Then why are you shaking?"
I freeze.
Because I am.
My fingers tremble slightly against the counter.
"Stop analyzing me."
"I don't need to analyze you."
"Then what are you doing?"
His gaze drops to my lips.
Slow.
Measured.
"Waiting."
"For what?"
"For you to remember how you looked at me."
The tension becomes unbearable.
"You're not going to keep Marcus away forever," I say.
"No."
"When?"
"When you can look at him without looking over your shoulder."
The words send a strange chill through me.
"Why would I look over my shoulder?"
"Because you always did."
My chest tightens.
"That doesn't make sense."
"It will."
Silence stretches.
Then—
His phone buzzes again.
He glances at it.
Marcus.
He answers this time.
On speaker.
"Reyes," Marcus says coldly.
"De La Torre," Adrian replies evenly.
"I'd like to take Alessa out."
"She's not available."
"That's not your decision."
"It is."
I inhale sharply.
Marcus's voice tightens.
"She doesn't remember you."
"She doesn't need to."
"Afraid she'll choose me?"
Adrian's expression doesn't change.
"No."
"Then let her."
A beat.
Then Adrian says something that makes my heart stutter.
"I already did."
Silence.
Heavy.
Marcus exhales slowly.
"This isn't over."
"No," Adrian agrees calmly. "It's not."
He ends the call.
The room feels charged.
"You're provoking him," I whisper.
"No."
"Yes, you are."
He turns to face me fully.
"I'm reminding him."
"Of what?"
"That you didn't forget because you stopped loving me."
My chest tightens.
"You don't know that."
"I do."
"You're so sure."
"Yes."
"Why?"
His eyes darken in a way that makes my pulse spike.
"Because you didn't ask for a divorce until after you found out what he did."
The words slam into me.
"What?"
Silence.
"You're not telling me everything," I whisper.
"No."
"Why?"
"Because you're not ready."
"For what?"
"For the part of the story that changes how you see him."
My heart pounds violently.
"What did Marcus do?"
Adrian steps closer.
Close enough that I can feel the heat radiating from him.
"He betrayed you."
The word detonates in my chest.
"No."
"Yes."
"How?"
"You'll remember."
"That's not an answer!"
"It's the only one I'm giving you tonight."
Rage and fear twist together inside me.
"You don't get to decide what I can handle."
"I do when it protects you."
"I don't need protection."
"You needed it then."
The finality in his voice shakes me.
"What happened?" I demand.
His expression hardens slightly.
"You collapsed in this apartment two weeks before the accident."
My breath catches.
"Why?"
"Because you finally understood something."
"What?"
He holds my gaze.
Unblinking.
"That Marcus didn't lose you."
The air feels thin.
"He pushed you."
————-
Before I can respond—
The memory hits.
Not rain.
Not love.
Not grief.
But a voice.
Marcus's voice.
Saying something that makes my stomach drop.
And suddenly—
I'm not sure he's the safe one anymore.