"People don't vanish for no reason," Gael said. "Not like that. Something happened. You just don't know what yet."
Landen wanted to argue, to list all the reasons Gael was wrong, to point out that sometimes people did vanish, sometimes they did leave without explanation, sometimes it was exactly what it looked like. But the arguments wouldn't form. Couldn't push past the ache in his throat.
Gael paused. When he spoke again, his voice had gentled.
"And if it really is over… you'll survive it. You'll get through this."
Landen's throat closed. He swallowed hard against it, fought to keep his face steady.
"You deserve to be loved."
The words hit him like a blow. Unexpected. He felt them land in his chest, in the hollow place where Adriel used to be, and something in him cracked.
He nodded once. Stiffly. The only movement he could manage.
Because he knew Gael was right. He knew it the way you know the sun will rise, the way you know winter will come; with a certainty that existed separate from feeling. The truth of it was there, steady and immovable, even if he couldn't reach it right now. Even if it felt like a lie.
"And if you don't," Gael finished, "you're not alone. You have me. You have all of us."
Landen finally looked up at him then. Gael's face was calm.
Landen didn't trust himself to speak. He lifted his glass instead. A toast to something he couldn't name. Gael lifted his own glass.
The whiskey burned going down, same as before, but this time it felt different. The pain was still there. The fear. The blank, echoing absence where Adriel should be. None of that had changed. But underneath it, faint and stubborn, was the knowledge that Gael was right.
Even if he couldn't face it yet.
Chapter 23
Landen
Landen was in his office, sitting at his desk, staring into nothing instead of working. He'd been there for hours. The morning had come and gone, the afternoon was slipping away, and he had accomplished exactly nothing. Manuscripts sat unread on his desk. Emails waited unanswered in his inbox. Calls went unreturned. Every time he tried to focus, tried to force himself to do something productive, his mind rebelled.
Adriel.
Always Adriel.
Where was he? Was he okay?
The questions circled endlessly, the same ones he'd been asking since Friday night, and still, still, he had no answers.
His phone sat on the desk in front of him. mute. He'd stopped checking it every five minutes. Stopped calling. Stopped leaving messages that went unanswered. There was only so much silence a person could absorb before it became unbearable.
He was startled when he heard the commotion outside his office. At first, it was just raised voices, his secretary, soundingflustered, saying something he couldn't quite make out. Then a woman's voice, sharp and angry, cutting through. Footsteps.
Before he could react, the doors burst open. A woman stormed in. Mid-twenties, pretty, her face flushed with anger. His secretary was right behind her, looking panicked.
"You can't just do this!" his secretary said, reaching for the woman's arm. "Mr. Waters is not expecting you, Miss!"
The woman ignored her completely. Her eyes were fixed on Landen, and they were furious.
"You!" she spat. "You motherfucking asshole! How could you do this to him!? How could you!?"
Landen rose from his chair, shock rippling through him. He had no idea who this woman was, no idea what she was talking about. His mind scrambled to catch up.
"What?" he said. "What are you talking about? Who are you?"
She snorted. Her lips pulled into a sneer as she looked at him like he was the most disgusting thing to ever grace the earth.
