“I know, right?” I huff, rubbing my temples. “But he was hurt, so he lashed out at me. You know how it goes. Hurt people, hurt people.”
Adriana lets out a soft exhale, not quite a sigh. “Yeah, I get it.” There’s a beat of silence before she adds, “You’re a lot more forgiving than I’d be. I wouldn’t have let him off that easy.”
I try to laugh, but it comes out weak. “It’s fine now. He apologized. I get why he was upset, and I don’t hold it against him.” I hesitate, knowing the next part is going to hit harder. “But that’s not even the worst of it.”
Adriana’s voice stays neutral, like she’s waiting. “There’s more?”
I nod, even though she can’t see me. “After he stormed off, he sent me home with Felix. I was upset, too, so when I got home, I went for a walk to clear my head.” I hesitate again, chewing on my bottom lip. “That’s when things really went south.”
“South how?” Her tone remains calm, but I can sense the subtle shift—she’s on alert now, piecing things together.
I take a deep breath. “Austin’s mom found me. Cornered me while I was alone.”
Adriana doesn’t react at first, just a pause that stretches longer than I expect. “What do you mean, shefoundyou?”
“I was going for a walk. She pulled up with her driver and sorta cornered me on the side of the road. I tried to walk away, but they made it pretty clear I didn’t have a choice.” I swallow hard. “So, I got in the car.”
Another pause. Then, Adriana says quietly, “You got in the car with her.” It’s not a question. More like she’s repeating the words to herself, trying to make sense of them.
“I didn’t have a choice,” I explain, the defensiveness creeping into my voice despite myself. “Trust me, I didn’twantto. But she wasn’t giving me any other option.”
Adriana’s response is slow, deliberate. “Okay. So what did she want?”
“She was freaking out because Austin made bail, and they couldn’t find him. She wanted to make sure he wouldn’t come after me. Not because she gives a shit about me, obviously. But so Austin doesn’t land himself in more hot water. So, she kept me with her until her husband tracked him down.”
A low exhale escapes Adriana. “She kept you with her,” she repeats, her voice steady, though I can hear the tension beneath it. “And you’re okay?”
“Yeah,” I say quickly, needing to reassure her. “I’m fine. She didn’t hurt me. But she talked about this plea deal. Five years for Austin, three for Gregory and Parker. Court-ordered therapy for all of them when they get out.”
Adriana is quiet for a moment. When she finally speaks, her voice is calm, but I sense the shift in her energy. “And you’re considering it.”
It’s not a question. She’s always been good at reading between the lines, even when she’s holding back her own reactions.
“I don’t know,” I admit. “There’s no guarantee Austin will get more than five years if we go to trial, and Gregory and Parker? They’ll walk. I’m just … I’m not sure I have the energy to go through a long trial, and honestly, I’m scared of the outcome of one.”
Her silence lingers again, but I know she’s turning it over in her mind, weighing my words.
“You’ve clearly thought about this,” she says after a beat, her tone careful. “Which means you’ve already gone through all of your options. What’s holding you back?”
I bite my lip, my chest tightening. “I guess … I just need someone to tell me I’m not crazy for considering it.”
“You’re not crazy,” she says. “You’re doing what you need to do to protect yourself. That’s not crazy.”
Relief washes over me, but it’s tinged with guilt. “Gabe doesn’t know yet,” I confess, my voice quieter.
Adriana doesn’t react, at least not outwardly. But I know she’s filing the information away like she always does, her mind working through the implications. “That’s a mistake,” she says. “You need to tell him. Sooner rather than later. Accepting a plea deal is no small thing.”
“I know,” I murmur, feeling the weight of it settle back on my shoulders. “I will. Just … not today.”
“Not today,” she echoes, her voice level, but there’s a firm undertone. “But soon. Promise me.”
“Yeah. Soon.”
Adriana has always been like this—never one to push too hard, never making things more complicated than they need to be. It’s a kind of stability I’ve come to rely on, even when her own emotions stay beneath the surface.
“You wanna grab coffee this week?” she asks after a beat, the shift in tone subtle but noticeable.
I manage a small smile. “Yeah, I’d like that.”
