Chapter 4Shattered Hearts And Second Chances

"If you don't understand this theorem by now, Skylar, I’m worried about your SAT scores," Adrian said, though his voice was thick with amusement. He was leaning over Skylar’s shoulder in the study, looking at her workbook.

"Not everyone is a Stanford boy-wonder, Adrian," Skylar teased, her voice dropping into a playful, melodic lilt. "You’re just too smart for us mere mortals."

Adrian laughed—a real, belly-deep laugh I hadn't heard in weeks. He reached out and playfully nudged her shoulder. They were sitting so close their shadows merged into one on the mahogany desk.

I knocked on the open door.

"The fruit plate is on the table, Maria," Skylar said without turning around, assuming I was the housekeeper.

"It’s me," I said.

Adrian stiffened. It took him a full two seconds to turn around and face me. "Sienna. You’re back from the dorms."

Skylar turned, her smile as dazzling as ever. "Sienna! Long time no see."

I looked at Adrian. His expression was a mess of guilt and something else—irritation?

"I texted you that I was coming home today," I said. "You didn't reply."

He checked his phone, looking chagrined. "Sorry. It’s been a crazy week at the firm. I must have missed it."

"Don't be mad at him, Sienna," Skylar chirped. "He’s just getting old. His memory is the first thing to go."

"I’m twenty-eight, Skylar. I’m hardly geriatric," Adrian countered, and they both fell into a fit of giggles.

"Whatever you say, Grandpa. Tell her about the time you went to my school and the principal thought you were my dad!"

Adrian swatted at her head, and she ducked, laughing.

He had gone to her school. He had been a presence in her life while I was tucked away in a lab.

The insecurity I had been suppressing roared to life. I wanted to scream that he was mine. I wanted to mark my territory.

Later that night, I begged him to go public. "Adrian, please. I don't want to hide anymore. Let’s just tell people."

He sighed, rubbing his temples. "Sienna, not now. Give me a few more years to solidify my position at the firm. Then, no one can tell us what to do."

"Is anyone actually telling us what to do now?" I asked. The staff knew. His parents probably suspected.

But he just shook his head. "You're being sensitive. Skylar is just a guest. She’s like a sister to me."

Just like I was, I thought. The words tasted like ash.