Anneliese reached across the table, her voice gentle. “I’m so glad they found you.”
“They did,” Adrik said. “Eventually. But I’ll never forget that moment before they did. It felt like being abandoned.”
Hans’ chest tightened.Why is he lying? He lived in New York, not Russia.
Friedrich studied him, eyes narrowing slightly—as if trying to decide whether the story was truth or performance. “And this was in Russia?”
“Yes,” Adrik said quickly. “In Moscow.”
Hans caught the tiny shift in his tone. A practiced answer. A shield. He’s still hiding something. Even now.
But his mother smiled warmly, softening the surrounding air. “Well, you’re here now. Safe. And we’re glad you’re joining us tonight.”
Adrik nodded, grateful. “Thank you. I’m glad to be here.”
Hans watched him closely—the way he held himself, the way he avoided looking at Hans for too long. You shared something almost real… but not everything. And I don’t know why.
He reached his foot out under the table, brushing lightly against Adrik’s again.
Adrik didn’t look up, but Hans felt the faintest press back.
By the end of the meal, Annaliese was smiling warmly at him. “I’m glad Hans has someone like you,” she said.
Adrik blinked, surprised. “Thank you.”
Friedrich didn’t say much, but he gave a curt nod. Not approval, exactly, but not rejection either. Hans would take it.
When they stepped outside into the cool night air, Hans exhaled hard. “You okay?”
Adrik smirked. “Your dad hates me.”
“He doesn’t hate you,” Hans insisted. “He hates everyone at first.”
Adrik laughed, and the sound loosened something tight in Hans’ chest.He’s still here. He’s not running.
“Hans, you said they wouldn’t ask me any questions.”
“I told them not to ask you anything and to keep it light, but they didn’t.”
“I see. I didn’t know what to do when they cornered me with a barrage of personal questions. So, I lied.”
“I never knew you were such a storyteller. Maybe you should write books too.” Hans would let his lies fly by until they had more time to discuss it.
“We could be co-writers,” Adrik added.
“Come on.” Hans grabbed Adrik’s hand. “We’re going dancing.”
The club was loud, colorful, packed with bodies, and pulsing with music. Exactly what Hans needed to shake off the dinner tension. Adrik pulled him onto the dance floor, hands on his hips, moving with a confidence that made Hans’ breath catch.
“You’re staring,” Adrik said over the music.
“Yeah,” Hans admitted. “Can you blame me?”
Adrik leaned in, lips brushing Hans’ ear. “I’m not going home early, if that’s what you’re worried about.”
Hans froze for half a second.He knew. Of course he knew.
Then he laughed, relief washing through him. “Good. Because I’m not done with you yet.”
