Chapter 6: 5.- I am Addicted to Her

Hey to all reads in this chapter I'll write about Adrian's Feeling only it might be a bit of an emotional...

Gal Gadot as Sia Rudey you can imagine anyone you like

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Adrian's P.O.V.

I got home late tonight. I know Susan had planned an evening for us, but I got preoccupied with things I had to handle first. I hope she's not upset with me.

Unlocking the door, I step into the darkened living room. She must have gone to bed. Quietly, I make my way to my room, careful not to wake her.

I was with Sia—yes. My high school ex. She caught her boyfriend cheating today, and she was shattered. She called me in tears, her voice raw and unsteady, and I couldn't just turn away. I was the only person she knew here, the only one she could trust, so I took her to the club to take her mind off things.

At first, it was about comforting her—a familiar shoulder to lean on. But as the hours passed, the past crept in. The way she laughed at my dumb jokes, how seamlessly we fell back into old habits—it felt natural, effortless. No pressure, no demands, just us.

She moved here months ago with her boyfriend, the same guy who just wrecked her. Back then, we barely spoke beyond a few polite exchanges. But lately, we've been meeting more—coffee breaks and now this.

I haven't told Susan about her, not because I'm hiding anything... at least, that's what I tell myself. But Susan would overthink it. She wouldn't understand that Sia needs me. And maybe, just maybe, I don't want to admit that I need Sia too—not like I need Susan, but in a way I can't quite define.

With Sia, there's no push, no expectations. I don't have to explain myself. She just gets it.

But as she rested her head lightly on my shoulder, laughing at some distant memory, a weight settled in my chest. A reminder of what I was leaving behind—Susan, at home, waiting. Susan, who had planned a night for us. Susan, who loved me without hesitation.

And yet, I stayed out longer than I should have. Longer than I had any right to.

When I finally decided to leave, Sia gave me a small, sad smile and squeezed my hand. "Thanks for tonight, Adrian. I don't know what I'd do without you."

Her fingers lingered just a second too long. Or maybe I let them.

As I drove home, guilt sat heavy in my bones. But not enough to make me stop.

I grab some shorts and a T-shirt, then step into the shower, letting the hot water wash over me.

I missed spending time with Susan too. I do. But I enjoy my time with Sia in a way I can't explain. It's effortless. No arguments, no expectations, just easy laughter and familiar comfort.

When I step out, toweling my hair dry, I notice a wrapped gift box on my bed—a deep blue package tied with a silver ribbon. I pick it up, my stomach twisting with unease.

To Ad,

Happy Anniversary

I unwrap it slowly. A watch. Not just any watch—the exact one I'd wanted for months. A sleek, black dial with a minimalist design, encased in brushed steel. The kind of watch that doesn't just tell time but defines presence. How did she manage this? She even earns less than I do. A soft rustling sound catches my attention, and I find an envelope tucked beneath the box. Inside is a card with delicate calligraphy:

Dear Ad,

Happy 5th Anniversary.

I know we've been distant lately, but I refuse to believe we've become one of those couples who stay together just for the sake of it. We're not broken. We're still us. And we always will be.

I love you. Your time is enough for me—I don't need anything else. Just us. Please, if something is wrong, lets talk it out.

Forever yours,

Susan

My chest tightens. The weight of what I've done—what I am doing—settles over me. I ignored her. I forgot our anniversary. Yet, she still goes out of her way to do this for me. She still loves me like I'm the man I used to be.

She came from a world of privilege, where luxury wasn't a choice but a given. The only child of doting parents, she never wanted for anything—designer clothes, private vacations, effortless opportunities. And then there was me, a guy who had to fight for every inch of success, who knew what it meant to count every dollar and weigh every decision. Her father never approved of me. He never said it outright, but it was always there—in the way his handshake was just a little too firm, in the way he looked at me like I was temporary. You can't provide for her the way I can. She'll outgrow you. So, I worked harder, climbed higher, pushed myself beyond limits I never thought possible, all to prove him wrong. To prove that I deserved her.

But Susan never expected that from me. She left everything behind to be with me—the comfort, the ease, the life where every door opened without effort. She traded penthouse lifestyle with regular apartment, learned to cook simple meals because takeout wasn't always an option, learned to organize home because we initially didn't get house help. She never complained, never made me feel like I wasn't enough. She worked long hours instead of training to be heir her family expected her to, tried to fit into my world in ways I never asked her to. And yet, despite all of it, I still felt like I was the one trying to reach her. Maybe not in money or status anymore, but in the way she carried herself—poised, untouchable, like she belonged to a world I could never fully claim.

And then there was Sia—familiar, effortless, an escape from the constant pressure. She didn't challenge me, didn't expect anything, didn't remind me of the gap I had spent years trying to close. With her, I didn't have to prove my worth. I didn't have to fight to be enough. She was just there, uncomplicated, offering me a way out of a battle I didn't even realize I was losing

Susan used to be everything I needed—my anchor, my home. But now... I don't know. With her, I always feel like I have something to prove. Like I have to be more, do more, just to be worthy of her. She's effortlessly elegant, untouchable in a way that reminds me of all the ways I'll never quite measure up. Being with her is like standing in the light—exposed, seen for everything I am and everything I'm not.

Sia, though—she's an escape. She doesn't expect me to be anything more than what I already am. There's no pressure, no unspoken standards I have to meet. She doesn't make me feel like I have to climb higher just to reach her. With her, I can just exist without feeling like I'm constantly falling short.

But I can't leave Susan. I won't. She's in my bones, in the life I've built, in the future I've always imagined. No matter how tempting the escape, I know I can't run forever.

I walk into her room. She's curled up on her side in the white dress I love, her back to me, goosebumps visible on her bare arms.

I reach out, gently brushing my fingers over her skin. She's cold. I pull the blanket over her, but then I see them—the faint trails of dried tears on her cheeks.

Guilt crashes over me. She cried because of me.

I want to wake her up. I want to pull her into my arms and tell her I'm sorry. That I didn't mean to hurt her. That she deserves so much better than this. But I don't. I just stand there, frozen, caught between the man I should be and the man I've become.

Instead, I grab a piece of paper from her desk and scribble down a note:

Sorry, babe. Happy Anniversary to you too.

I'm sorry I came home late and forgot our anniversary. You know I'm terrible with dates. Let's make up for it tomorrow—anything you want. I love you so much it hurts sometimes.

Forever yours,

Adrian ♡

I place the note on her bedside table, watching her for a moment longer. She shifts slightly in her sleep but doesn't wake up.

I love Susan. I do. But the way I feel when I'm with Sia...

I think I'm addicted to her.

And I know I can't keep this up forever.

Susan's P.O.V.

The doorbell jolts me awake. My face feels tight from dried tears, my body heavy with exhaustion. I'm still in my dress from last night.

Dragging myself to the door, I open it to find Lisa standing there, eyes red-rimmed, mascara smudged. Without a word, she throws her arms around me, clinging tightly.

"Lisa?" I whisper, concern flooding my chest. "What's wrong? Why are you here so early?"

She lets out a choked sob. "He cheated on me."

I guide her inside, helping her to my room. She's still trembling, her breath uneven.

"What happened?" I ask, sitting beside her.

She wipes her nose with the back of her hand. "Liam. He's been seeing someone else. He was planning to break up with me on my birthday."

My stomach twists in anger. "That asshole. I told you he was no good."

She nods, her face crumpling. "I should've listened."

I wrap my arms around her. "You deserve better. You always have."

Lisa sniffles. "I just want to go home. Stay with my parents for a while."

"Then let's go pack your things."

I stand up, grabbing fresh clothes from my closet before heading to the bathroom. The cold shower does little to ease the ache in my chest. My body is awake, but my heart is still heavy from last night.

Fifteen minutes later, I'm dressed for work and ready to take Lisa to Liam's place.

As I step into the hallway, Adrian's door swings open. He steps out, his hair messy, his shirt half-buttoned. He sees me but says nothing. His expression is unreadable. Then, without a word, he slams the door behind him.

The sound echoes in my chest like a final, shattering note.

I swallow the lump in my throat and turn away, pushing the pain down.

Lisa squeezes my hand. "You okay?"

I force a small smile. "Come on. Let's go."

As we step outside, I run my fingers over the smooth surface of my car—a sleek black convertible, a gift from my father when I moved here. I slide into the driver's seat, gripping the wheel.

I tell myself it's just another morning.

But deep down, I know better.

Something has shifted.

And I don't think things will ever be the same again.

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