Page 23 of His Secret

“Don’t bother apologizing, Adrian. It’s been a long time.”

After a few seconds, he sighs. “I wish I would’ve handled things differently.”

I raise my brows before going back to my computer. “Well, you did what you wanted to at the time, and we both need to accept that.”

“Matías,” he says quietly, seeking my attention.

I exhale through my nose before glancing back at him. “Yes?”

“I’d like to make things right. Especially now that we’ll beworking together. Let me take you for a drink. Or dinner if you’re still not a drinker,” he says with a tiny grin.

“Will your wife be joining us?” I ask, tilting my head.

He opens his mouth to say something but no words come out. When they do, they’re a chopped up mess.

“Uh…well, I?—”

“It’s fine. Not necessary.”

He lingers for a few seconds before leaving. Once he’s gone, I let my shoulders drop as I exhale.

I can’t believe he’s back in South River, and not only that, working on the same floor as me. I didn’t think I’d see him again, and now I’ll see him almost every day.

At one point I might’ve thought this was a blessing, but I can’t imagine anything worse right now.

Adrian Kennedy was my first love—and my first heartbreak. Even saying that makes it sound minimal. Like it was puppy love and a normal breakup.

It wasn’t.

What we had was the deepest connection I had experienced up until that point, and I haven’t been able to find anything comparable since. Because I’ve never been in love again, I’ve yet to experience that soul-crushing pain when it ends. Which is exactly why I don’t do relationships.

He’s the one and only person to affect me so deeply, and that’s why it’s terrible that he’s here.

It’s only going to bring up memories—both good and bad—and considering he’s married to a woman, I don’t see us getting past what broke us in the first place.

I bury myself in work until seven o’clock, and then I go straight to my favorite restaurant, Alejandra’s, and pick up some food to go.

When I approach my house, it’s already nearing eight, butsince it’s the middle of June, there’s still over an hour before the sun goes down completely. And clearly, people are taking advantage of the lingering light, because there are two huge U-Hauls on my street—and one of them is blocking most of my driveway.

Annoyed, I park along the curb in front of my house and march toward the neighbor’s. All I want to do is park in my garage, eat some dinner, then have a drink until I forget I have to see Adrian every day at work.

I hear noise in the back of the truck that’s in their driveway, so I give it a couple bangs with my hand.

“Excuse me. Can you move your truck?”

“What’s that?” a voice calls out, followed by footsteps.

When he comes down the ramp, he’s only wearing a pair of blue shorts and some tennis shoes. His shirtless torso is shiny with sweat, and ripped with muscles. Not as much from eight years ago, but definitely still there.

“Are you kidding me?” I say aloud.

“Matías?” Adrian questions, brows knit together. “What are you doing here?”

I huff out a breath and run my hand over my face. With a gesture to the house next door, I say, “I live there.”

His jaw drops. “Are you joking?”

“No.” With another sigh, I point to the U-Haul blocking my driveway. “Can you move that please?”

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