The Elena who could be intimidatingly smart yet still laugh softly at her own jokes; the woman who looked composed on the outside but lit up in conversation, who was kind without even realizing it, who loved openly, wholly, fearlessly.My Elena. The one I broke, and the one I’d been trying to get back ever since.
After we ended the video call, I tried to settle into the numb routine I’d perfected over the last two years. I showered, rinsing away the heat and dust of the construction site; the day had been long and exhausting, and the water felt like a relief I hadn’t realized I needed.
I changed into a black T-shirt and boxer briefs, planning to collapse onto the mattress and let sleep drag me under before guilt or memory could do any more damage. But the moment I picked up my phone and saw the photos Elena had sent, any trace of exhaustion evaporated.
The first few pictures made me smile despite myself. Haille on the slide, her cheeks flushed with excitement. Her little hands grabbing food. That butterfly face paint smudged at the corners. She looked so damn happy, and for a moment it eased something tight in my chest.
Then I swiped again.
And everything inside me froze.
Because suddenly, in the next photo, she wasn’t in Elena’s arms. She was in his—Elena’s junior.
I shifted upright instinctively, spine snapping straight against the headboard as if sitting up could anchor the surge of adrenaline hitting my chest. The exhaustion in my muscles vanished. My pulse sharpened.
Back then, he was nothing more than Elena’s junior. Someone I never paid attention to. Someone harmless. But right now? Right now, seeing my daughter asleep in his arms while Elena stood beside him, something inside me shifted.
I didn’t like the way it looked. I didn’t like the familiarity of the moment. I didn’t like how natural it seemed, as if he belonged there.
It wasn’t because I’d always been suspicious, it was because I hadn’t been. I had never looked twice at him, never cared, never imagined him anywhere near the center of my life.
But this photo forced me to see it differently, and suddenly the idea of another man holding my daughter while standing beside my wife ignited a territorial anger I didn’t even know I was capable of feeling.
My hand tightened around the phone until my knuckles went white. I swiped again, slower this time, as if bracing for impact.
The next photo was worse. There were other people in it, but I barely noticed them. All I saw was him holding my daughter with ease, Haille asleep against his chest, and Elena beside him—smiling like the moment meant something. And the worst part was that his eyes weren’t on the camera. They were on her. Far too familiar for a man who was supposed to be nothing more than a coworker.
A cold, controlled fury crawled up my spine. It wasn’t the kind that exploded. It was quieter. Tighter. A slow, low burn that made every muscle in my body coil with instinct. Territorial. Protective. Primitive.
Why the hell was my daughter in another man’s arms? Why did my wife let him hold our child? And why did he look at what belongs to me like that?
I wanted to call her. God, I wanted to call her right then and demand an explanation. I wanted to hear her voice and try to understand how that photo—those moments—had existed. I wanted to go home tonight, ignore the project, and be at my door before sunrise.
Because the sight of another man holding my daughter while standing beside my wife ignited something vicious and territorial inside me.
It wasn’t just jealousy, it was the realization that he wanted something that was mine.
CHAPTER 20
Adrian
I barely slept last night. I must’ve stared at those pictures Elena sent for hours until exhaustion finally knocked me out. And the moment I woke up—six in the damn morning—I didn’t waste time. I needed answers. Right then. Not later.
I tried video calling her. Twice, she didn’t pick up. On the third try, she finally answered.
“Adrian? What’s wrong?” she asked, her voice still rough with sleep.
“Can I talk to you?” I shot back immediately. No small talk. No preamble.
Her brows furrowed, confusion written across her face, but she nodded slowly.
“I saw the photos from your company event last night,” I said, jaw clenched. “Explain to me why our daughter was asleep in your junior’s arms.”
Elena blinked, clearly thrown off. She inhaled deeply before responding.
“Oh... I was tired yesterday. And Harley offered to carry her for a bit.”
But that answer didn’t sit right with me. Not even close.
