Chapter 17 — BETWEEN RAINDROPS
The days that followed felt different. Not colder, but quieter in a way Cathy could not explain. The laughter that used to light up the studio had turned into soft smiles that faded too quickly. Adrian still came every morning, still brought her tea, still stood beside her as she painted. Yet beneath the rhythm of their days, something fragile lingered — like a single note held too long in a song that might end.
Outside, Elaris City had slipped into its rainy season. Each morning began with the hush of raindrops sliding down glass, the city wrapped in silver mist. Cathy loved the rain, but this one felt lonelier than before.
She sat by the window, sketching a bridge she had drawn many times, but this time her pencil wavered. The lines blurred, the figures less clear. Her mind wandered back to Adrian’s strange call, to the name he wouldn’t mention, to the sadness she sometimes caught in his eyes when he thought she wasn’t looking.
When he entered the room, she looked up, her eyes soft but searching. He smiled as always, but she could see it now — the effort behind it, the hidden tension.
He leaned over her sketchbook and smiled faintly. “You’ve drawn this bridge so many times.”
She picked up her pen and wrote on a small notepad beside her.
Because that’s where we met.
He nodded. “And that’s why I like it.”
But the way his gaze drifted told another story. He looked at the bridge not with warmth but with a kind of longing, as if trying to hold on to something slipping from his grasp.
Later, when he left for a meeting, Cathy wandered through the studio. On his desk, among the blueprints, she noticed a folder she hadn’t seen before. It was half-open, and curiosity — quiet, hesitant — made her glance inside.
Inside were photographs of tall glass buildings with the logo Vale Industries printed on them. There was also a clipped article from Elaris Business Weekly:
“Gabriel Vale’s Son Missing After Corporate Feud — Heir Refuses to Inherit.”
Her heart stopped. The photo was unmistakable. Adrian’s eyes, though younger, carried the same warmth. The same quiet sadness.
For a long moment, she stood still, the world narrowing to the soft hum of rain outside.
When Adrian returned that evening, he found her sitting by the window again. The sketchbook was closed. Her eyes met his, calm but unreadable.
He stopped at the door, sensing the change immediately. “Cathy?”
She lifted her notepad and wrote slowly, each letter deliberate.
Your real name is Adrian Vale.
The silence that followed felt like the pause between thunder and rain.
He took a breath, then exhaled softly, walking closer until he stood before her. “You found out.”
She nodded once.
Adrian looked out the window for a moment before speaking, his voice low and honest. “I didn’t mean to lie to you. I just wanted to live without the noise of that name. For once, I wanted to be seen for who I am, not what I come from.”
Cathy’s eyes glistened, not from anger but from something deeper — the ache of understanding too much. She picked up her pen again.
You didn’t have to hide from me.
His throat tightened. “I know. But I was afraid. My world… it ruins everything it touches.”
She shook her head slowly, her hands trembling as she signed, You’re not your world.
The words struck him harder than he expected. For a long moment, neither spoke. Only the rain filled the space between them, steady and soft, like the pulse of the city itself.
Finally, he reached for her hand. “I wanted to tell you,” he whispered. “I just didn’t know how.”
Her fingers didn’t pull away, but her eyes turned toward the window again. The rain was falling harder now, streaking the glass like quiet tears.
She wrote one last line before closing her notebook.
Truth doesn’t hurt. Silence does.
Then she stood, gathered her coat, and left the studio without looking back.
Adrian remained where she had left him, her words echoing in the stillness. Outside, the rain deepened, and he watched her figure disappear beneath the silver haze of Elaris City.
In that moment, he realized how much her silence had spoken all along — and how deeply it could wound when she chose to walk away.
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