Chapter 79: The Truth

Chapter 79: Chapter 79: The Truth

For a long moment, neither of them moved.

The evening air stirred softly through the trees.

Far away, music drifted from the hunting lodge.

A reminder that life continued.

Unaware.

Unchanged.

At least for everyone else.

Adrian stood across from her.

Waiting.

Patiently.

As he always had.

Marian suddenly hated that.

Not because there was anything wrong with it.

Because it made this harder.

Because Adrian was looking at her the same way he always did.

Concerned.

Attentive.

Ready to listen.

Ready to help.

Ready to fix whatever problem she brought to him.

The realization hurt.

Because this was one thing he could not fix.

"There is something I need to tell you."

The words lingered between them.

Adrian’s expression remained calm.

But she saw it.

The slight tension in his shoulders.

The uncertainty.

Because he already knew this wasn’t an ordinary conversation.

Not after the way she had approached him.

Not after the way she had looked at him all evening.

Slowly, Adrian nodded.

"All right."

His voice was gentle.

Encouraging.

The same voice he had used countless times over the years.

Whenever she had been upset.

Whenever she had needed him.

Marian closed her eyes briefly.

Then forced herself to continue.

"Our engagement."

The moment the words left her mouth, Adrian’s expression changed.

Only slightly.

But she saw it.

The immediate focus.

The attention.

Because now he understood what the conversation was about.

Not the reason.

Not yet.

But the subject.

And that was enough.

"Our engagement?" he repeated.

Marian nodded.

Her throat felt strangely tight.

"I don’t think it should continue."

Silence.

The world seemed to stop.

Not dramatically.

Quietly.

The way snow settled across a field.

The way a door closed.

The way a future ended.

Adrian stared at her.

Once.

Twice.

Then smiled.

A small smile.

Confused.

As though he hadn’t heard correctly.

"Marian."

The name carried a hint of disbelief.

"I don’t understand."

Neither anger nor hurt.

Just confusion.

Pure confusion.

And somehow that was worse.

Because she had expected anger.

Prepared herself for it.

Confusion was harder.

"We’ve been through difficult periods before."

Adrian laughed softly.

Not because anything was funny.

Because the alternative was taking her words seriously.

And he wasn’t ready to do that.

"Is this because of the distance?"

Marian’s heart clenched.

Because there it was.

The thing neither of them had spoken about.

The thing that had started all of this.

The space.

The distance.

The attempt to fix something neither of them understood.

Adrian rubbed the back of his neck.

Looking almost relieved.

As though he had found the answer.

"Gods, Marian."

A faint smile touched his face.

"I thought something terrible had happened."

The words nearly shattered her resolve.

Because to Adrian, this wasn’t terrible.

Not yet.

To him, this was still solvable.

Still fixable.

Still something they could work through.

"I know things have been difficult."

His voice softened.

"I know we’ve been distant."

Another pause.

"And I know I handled some of it badly."

Marian stared.

Because Adrian rarely admitted fault.

Not out of arrogance.

Because he carried responsibility for everything.

When he blamed himself, he did it thoroughly.

"I was trying to give you space."

The confession came quietly.

Honestly.

"I thought it was what you needed."

The words hurt.

Because she knew they were true.

Adrian took a step closer.

Not aggressively.

Hopefully.

As though trying to bridge a gap he didn’t understand.

"I know things aren’t perfect."

His eyes searched hers.

Looking for reassurance.

Looking for agreement.

Looking for something familiar.

"But we can fix it."

Marian lowered her gaze.

Because she couldn’t bear to look at him.

Not when he still believed that.

Not when she knew the truth.

"Adrian."

His name sounded fragile.

The sound made him stop.

Immediately.

Because after eighteen years, he knew her.

He knew every version of her voice.

The happy one.

The angry one.

The stubborn one.

The embarrassed one.

And this one.

The one she used when she was trying not to hurt someone.

The realization made the color drain slightly from his face.

Not much.

Just enough.

The smile disappeared.

Completely this time.

Slowly.

Carefully.

As though he were afraid of the answer.

And for the first time that evening—

Adrian looked worried.

Truly worried.

"Marian."

His voice had changed too.

"What aren’t you telling me?"

Silence.

The question hung between them.

Heavy.

Unavoidable.

Marian felt her hands tremble.

She clenched them into fists.

Not because she was uncertain.

Because she wasn’t.

The certainty was the problem.

If she had been uncertain, this would have been easier.

If she had doubts, she could have hidden behind them.

But she didn’t.

Not anymore.

She had already made her choice.

The truth was simply catching up.

Adrian took another breath.

Then asked the question.

The question both of them had been avoiding.

"Is there someone else?"

The world stopped.

For one terrible moment, everything became perfectly still.

The trees.

The wind.

The distant music.

Everything.

Marian looked up.

And met his eyes.

There was no accusation there.

No anger.

Only fear.

Fear.

And hope.

Because Adrian was still hoping she would say no.

Still hoping this could be fixed.

Still hoping the answer was anything else.

Marian opened her mouth.

Nothing came out.

The silence lasted only seconds.

Yet it felt endless.

And Adrian understood.

Not the whole truth.

Not yet.

But enough.

Because he knew her.

Eighteen years.

Eighteen years of knowing exactly how she reacted.

Exactly how she hesitated.

Exactly what her silences meant.

The hope vanished from his eyes.

Slowly.

Painfully.

As though something inside him had cracked.

"Who?"

The question was barely above a whisper.

Marian closed her eyes.

Because suddenly this was the hardest part.

Not choosing.

Not deciding.

Saying it.

Making it real.

When she opened her eyes again, Adrian was still watching her.

Waiting.

And somehow that hurt most of all.

Because even now—

Even now—

He was giving her the chance to tell the truth herself.

Marian drew a breath.

Then another.

Gathering the courage she had spent the entire day searching for.

Finally—

"It’s Cassian."

Silence.

Complete silence.

Adrian didn’t move.

Didn’t speak.

Didn’t breathe.

For one impossible moment, he simply stared at her.

As though the name made no sense.

As though he had heard a language he didn’t understand.

Then very slowly—

Very, very slowly—

The color drained from his face.

"...Cassian?"

Marian nodded.

Once.

She could not force herself to do more.

The silence that followed felt endless.

Adrian stared at her.

And for the first time since she had known him—

He looked completely lost.