Adrian:
Just heard you moved to Boston.
Congrats on the new job.
I always knew you’d land on your feet.
Proud of you, Wren.
My breath turns cold.
Innocent.
Polite.
Friendly even.
But I know better.
Every word is a blade wrapped in silk.
“Proud of you” means
You owe me.
“I always knew you’d land on your feet” means
You only stand because of me.
“Just heard you moved to Boston” means
I’m watching you.
My fingers go numb.
He’s still in Denver.
He’s still supposed to be in Denver.
There’s no reason for him to reach out.
No reason except—
He’s thinking about me again.
He’s remembering.
Rewriting.
Wanting.
My throat gets tight, and I press a hand over my chest, trying to steady my breathing.I shouldn’t let it get to me.I shouldn’t let him in—not even through a screen.
But the past presses in anyway:
Adrian whispering corrections in my ear.
Adrian gripping my waist too hard during lifts.
