Page 23 of The Code of You

I wanted to get away from him. Away from the memories he’d brought back. "Why are you really here, Adrian?”

He stopped just in front of me. Close enough I could see the fine lines around his eyes. "How’ve you been?”

I closed my book. "Good. Busy.”

"I can see that.” His gaze flicked to the stack on the table beside me. "Prometheus Unbound. Remember the night we argued about Shelley? Three hours straight. You admitted I was right in the end.” He smiled.

I shrugged. "I got tired. I couldn’t keep up with you.”

I turned and looked at him. For a second, there was warmth between us. "What do you want, Adrian?”

His head dropped. His mouth twitched. "I want to apologize.” It came out rough. "I thought passion had to hurt. That it had to burn. I thought love wasn’t real unless it tore you apart.” His voice caught. "I was wrong. You’re not cold. You’re just . . . unreachable.”

His lips moved like there was more, but nothing came. There were tears in his eyes.

The silence between us was thick enough to choke on. I swallowed hard against the knot in my throat. Now? Now he was saying this? I’d spent years getting over him. Years. And here he was, finally saying the thing I’d wanted to hear the whole time. And it didn’t land the way I’d thought it would. I shook my head. "It’s not enough, Adrian. You’re too late.”

He took a step back. "Pandora . . .”

"It’s okay.” I stood, gathered my books. "We weren’t meant for each other. We both know that.”

He nodded slowly. "I know. I didn’t deserve you back then.”

I shook my head. I didn’t want to hear his apologies. "Take care, Adrian.”

I left him standing there between the shelves.

My body moved on autopilot, but rage was burning inside me. How dare he just show up like that? I clenched my teeth and hissed. After everything he’d done to me. I forced myself to keep walking, but the anger was tearing through me, hotter than it should have been. Like someone had poured gasoline on a fire that had been banked. Why was I this angry? My pulse was pounding. My hands were shaking. This wasn’t normal. Not after all this time. But I couldn’t stop it.

Outside, it was already getting dark. The wind hit my skin, but it couldn’t cool the heat underneath.

This restlessness, this itch . . . I needed to go to the one who was actually responsible for it. Not Adrian and his half-assed apology. The anger at him was just a symptom. The real sickness was somewhere else. In a windowless room. In front of a blinking cursor.

My car was where I’d left it, parked crooked under the sycamores. I got in. The seat was cold. I turned the key and pulled out. The city slid past me in a blur. Lights I didn’t really see changed colors. I parked again and got out but didn’t lock it right away. My fingers fumbled for the button, missed, found it. Damn it, why was I this worked up? He was just a machine.

The lab smelled like cleaning supplies and warm plastic. Fluorescent lights were buzzing overhead.

Rodriguez came toward me. "Dr. Blake.”

"Hi.” I forced a smile. She wasn’t the one to blame for any of this.

Her bun had come loose, strands slipping into her face. "You forgot your jacket after your first session. Come with me.” She waved me through the side door, and I followed her down the hall to an office at the end.

"Wait here for a second. I’ll grab it.” She disappeared.

I shifted from foot to foot. A mug with a chipped handle sat next to a laptop. Trust the Process, the mug said. A half-dead houseplant. Then my eyes landed on a folder on the shelf. A Post-it was stuck to the front.

Why does he react so emotionally to her?

I picked up the folder.

"Here you go.”

I jumped. Shit. I shoved the folder back.

Rodriguez didn’t comment on what I’d been doing. She smiled and handed me my jacket.

"Thanks.” I cleared my throat. "You’re watching him?”