Chapter 7 – Between the Past and the Future
Adrian stared at Evelyn, his body tense, his fingers curling around the edge of the table.
"Your father's death wasn't an accident."
The words hit him like a gunshot, echoing in his head. He had spent years trying to piece together what had happened to him. He had searched for answers, for the truth about why he had disappeared. But he had never once questioned his father's death. He had always believed it was an accident, a tragedy that happened without reason.
Now, everything felt different.
Like the ground beneath him had never been solid to begin with.
Evelyn sat across from him, gripping the letters as if they were the only thing holding her together. Her face was pale, her lips pressed tightly together, as if she was trying not to break. Adrian wanted to reach for her, to tell her that it would be okay. But he couldn't. Because for the first time in seven years, he wasn't sure if anything would be okay.
The silence was heavy between them. Then, a voice broke through it.
"Evelyn?"
She froze.
Adrian's head snapped up just in time to see a man standing at the entrance of the café.
Tall. Dark hair. Familiar brown eyes.
Michael.
Evelyn's fiancé.
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A Clash of Two Worlds
Michael's gaze flickered between them, his expression unreadable. But Adrian could see the tension in his shoulders, the way his fingers curled slightly at his sides. His eyes moved over the table—the stack of letters, Evelyn's clenched hands, and then finally, Adrian.
"What's going on?" Michael asked. His voice was calm, but not in a good way. It was the kind of calm that came before a storm.
Evelyn opened her mouth, then closed it again. Adrian could see it—the way she struggled for words. The way guilt flickered across her face, even though she had done nothing wrong.
Michael took a step closer. "Ev?"
Adrian leaned back in his chair and exhaled. He didn't want to make this worse.
"I was just leaving," he said, pushing his chair back.
Evelyn turned to him quickly. "Wait—"
Michael's eyes narrowed.
Adrian didn't want to start a fight. He had no right to. Seven years had passed. Evelyn had moved on. She had built a new life, a life where Michael was the one standing beside her. Not him.
But then, Evelyn stood up.
And Adrian could tell, just from the way Michael looked at her, that he hadn't expected that.
"I need to talk to him," she said softly.
Michael's jaw clenched. "Evelyn—"
"I need answers," she interrupted, her voice firmer now. "And you deserve answers too."
Michael's expression darkened. His gaze dropped to the letters on the table, and his voice turned cold. "This is about the letters, isn't it?"
Evelyn hesitated.
Michael let out a slow breath, running a hand through his hair. "I was hoping we could talk about this at home, Ev. But instead, I find you sitting here with him."
Adrian clenched his fists.
He wasn't blind.
Michael wasn't angry about the letters.
He was angry because Evelyn had come to see Adrian at all.
And in a way, Adrian couldn't even blame him.
But that didn't mean he was going to walk away now.
Not when they were this close to the truth.
Michael looked at Evelyn. "Are you coming home?"
A beat of silence.
Then, Evelyn exhaled. "Michael, please—"
Michael shook his head. His whole body was tense, like he was holding back something he wanted to say.
"You know what?" His voice was eerily even. "Fine. Do whatever you need to do. But don't expect me to wait forever, Ev."
He turned and walked out the door.
The bell above the entrance jingled, the sound too loud in the quiet café. Evelyn flinched.
Adrian didn't say anything. He just watched her, waiting.
She stared at the door for a long time, her expression unreadable.
Then, she took a deep breath and turned back to him.
"Tell me everything you remember about your father's death," she said.
And just like that, the past pulled them both in.