Page 137 of Wreckage

I ran a hand down my face, frustrated beyond belief. Adrian turned his back on us, stomped to her living room window, and looked outside, his body trembling with anger.

Zara’s expression was gentle.

“She needs time,” she said. “She needs space. And honestly… I think you two do, too. What you guys went through was traumatic. Maybe time can put things into perspective.”

Adrian whipped around, his face twisted with emotion.

“We don’t need help,” he snapped.

But I just…stood there.

Thinking.

Feeling.

And knowing he was wrong.

“Maybe we do,” I said quietly.

Adrian froze. His head turned toward me, his eyes full of betrayal.

“Troy—”

I lifted a hand.

“Think about it,” I said, voice rough. “We’re fucked up, Adrian. We can’t even sleep away from each other.”

Adrian swallowed hard, his fingers twitching at his sides.

I exhaled, looking at him. “If Elena wants to get help, then maybe we should, too,” I murmured. “So we can be the best versions of ourselves for her.”

Adrian looked away. His throat bobbed. His hands shook.

Finally, he nodded.

Zara’s smile was gentle and understanding. "I think that’s a good idea,” she murmured.

I cleared my throat, shaking off the weight pressing against my chest. “Do you know where she went?” I asked.

Zara shook her head. “No. But I’ll keep you updated if I hear anything.”

It wasn’t enough. It wasn’t nearly enough. But it was all we had, so we’d just have to fucking ride it out and hope for a miracle.

We leftElena’s apartment feeling hollow.

But as we stepped outside, Adrian turned to me, his jaw set, his eyes burning.

“We’ll get her back.”

I nodded. “I know. It’ll just take time.”

He swallowed hard. “How long do we wait?”

I met his gaze, my chest aching. I didn’t hesitate.

“Forever.”

And for Elena, I knew we would.

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