His smile remained faint yet distant.
“It will not take long,” he replied. “I promise I will return soon.”
The door closed softly behind him.
The bridal suite, still fragrant with roses and candlelight, suddenly felt unfamiliar, as though absence itself had substance capable of reshaping space. I sat quietly near the window, gazing at the scattered glow of Manhattan’s lights while distant traffic murmured like an indifferent chorus beneath the sleepless skyline.
Time stretched with unsettling elasticity.
Three hours passed without message or explanation.
Fatigue eventually overcame restless thought, drawing me into shallow sleep defined more by exhaustion than peace. When consciousness returned, pale morning light filtered gently through the curtains, revealing Adrian seated beside the window, a half extinguished cigarette resting loosely between his fingers.
A chill moved silently through my chest.
“What happened?” I asked carefully, my voice trembling with a tension I could neither fully suppress nor entirely explain.
Adrian lifted his gaze slowly.
Within his eyes lingered something profoundly heavy.