My vision clears, the fog of the nightmare lifting just enough for me to see him.
He's not coming closer. He's not reaching for me.
He's waiting for my permission.
Maxim never waited. He never backed away. He never gave me space or asked what I wanted.
But Adrian is.
He's standing there, his hands up, his body tense, watching me like I'm the only thing in the world that matters.
And I know,I know, that he would never be the reason all this happened.
The nightmare, my dark thoughts, they lied.
My breathing slows, and I look at him and speak.
"I'm sorry."
Adrian shakes his head, his jaw tightening.
"Don't. You have nothing to apologize for."
He takes another step toward the door, his movements slow and deliberate.
"I'll leave you to rest."
He reaches for the door handle.
"Don't."
The word slips out before I can stop it, fragile and small.
He freezes, his hand hovering over the handle.
I swallow hard, my throat dry, and force myself to speak.
He turns his head slightly, his dark eyes meeting mine.
"I don't want to yell, and last time you told me to stay, I don't know if it helped."
My voice cracks, and I press my lips together, trying to steady myself.
"You're right. I'm confused. I don't know what I want, but that's because I haven't given you a chance to speak. We haven't really…" I stop and sigh. "I want to talk."
For a long moment, he doesn't move.
And then he nods.
"Are you really ready for that?"
I nod.
Even if I'm not, I clearly can't decide what the hell to do or what's going on if I don't know the truth. His truth.
He steps away from the door, his hands still at his sides, and lowers himself into the chair near the window.
He sits and then looks at me.