Chapter 15 - The First Suit Adrien Chose for Himself
Adrien chose green.
Not dark green.
Not nearly black.
Actual green.
I stared at the fabric in his hand.
“Who are you?”
He looked unimpressed.
“You showed it to me.”
“As a test.”
“You said it would work.”
“It will.”
“Then why are you complaining?”
“Because I expected resistance.”
“I’m evolving.”
“That is deeply inconvenient.”
The fabric was olive wool with subtle texture.
Beautiful against his skin.
Less formal than anything he had chosen before.
“What’s it for?” I asked.
“Luca’s New York send-off.”
“Good.”
“And another event.”
I waited.
He did not continue.
“What event?”
“Dinner.”
“With?”
“You.”
I looked at him.
“That was suspiciously smooth.”
“Niko gave notes.”
“Of course he did.”
Adrien stood on the platform.
I pinned the shoulder.
He wore only a dress shirt and trousers.
No jacket.
No armor.
The metaphor had become so obvious even I was tired of it.
“You met Caroline,” he said.
“Yes.”
“She told you about my mother.”
I stopped.
“How do you know?”
“Caroline told me.”
“That woman is alarmingly transparent.”
“She has improved.”
“Was she wrong?”
Adrien looked at our reflections.
“My mother left.”
“That wasn’t my question.”
“No.”
I waited.
He exhaled.
“She was not wrong.”
“About?”
“Need.”
The room became very quiet.
“My father never forgave my mother for leaving.”
“Did you?”
“I thought I did.”
He looked down at his hands.
“For years I told myself she was weak.”
“Was she?”
“No.”
The answer came quickly.
“She was twenty-nine when she married my father. Thirty-six when she left.”
“Did she take you?”
“No.”
“Why?”
“She tried.”
I didn’t speak.
“My father stopped her.”
Legally?
Emotionally?
Family pressure?
I didn’t ask.
Adrien’s expression told me the exact mechanics mattered less than the result.
“She moved to California.”
“Did you see her?”
“Twice.”
“Is she alive?”
“Yes.”
That surprised me.
“Do you speak?”
“Birthdays.”
Once a year.
My chest hurt for the twelve-year-old boy hidden inside the man standing before me.
“She called when the magazine came out.”
I smiled slightly.
“What did she say?”
“That you looked stubborn.”
I laughed.
“She has excellent instincts.”
Adrien smiled.
“She also said I looked happy.”
My laughter faded.
“Are you?”
He looked at me.
“Yes.”
No pause.
No cleverness.
Just yes.
I forgot to breathe for a moment.
Adrien stepped down from the platform.
“Claire.”
I knew.
Again.
My body had apparently developed an Adrien sentence alarm.
“I’m not good at this.”
“At standing still?”
“At saying things before I’m certain how they end.”
“That sounds like a control problem.”
“It probably is.”
I put down my pins.
He came closer.
“I love you.”
There it was.
No flowers.
No restaurant.
No planned speech.
Just Adrien Moretti standing in shirtsleeves in my shop wearing one unfinished sleeve.
I stared at him.
His face remained calm.
His eyes didn’t.
Caroline had been right.
He was terrified.
And because I loved him, I did not make him wait.
“I love you too.”
His eyes closed briefly.
One breath.
Relief.
When he opened them, I smiled.
“You look shocked.”
“I was prepared for a longer conversation.”
“You’re disappointed?”
“No.”
“Good.”
He kissed me.
My hand caught the unfinished jacket and nearly dragged it off the table.
He caught that too.
“You drop things often around me.”
“That is an outrageous exaggeration.”
“Scissors.”
“One time.”
“Chalk.”
“Twice.”
“Coffee.”
“That was your fault.”
He kissed me again.
Then Emma walked in.
She stopped.
Looked at us.
Looked at Adrien’s half-finished sleeve.
“No.”
I laughed.
She covered her eyes.
“I work in a professional establishment.”
“So do we,” I said.
“You are kissing a client.”
“He threatened to stop buying suits.”
Adrien nodded solemnly.
“I did.”
Emma walked backward into the workroom.
“I need a raise.”
“You’re getting one.”
She reappeared.
“Really?”
“Yes.”
“Continue.”
She vanished again.
Adrien stared at me.
“You employ strange people.”
“Look at your cousin.”
“Fair.”
A week later, Luca left for New York.
At the airport, Adrien hugged him first.
No hesitation.
Teresa cried.
Niko took seventeen unnecessary photographs.
I stood beside Adrien after Luca passed through security.
“You okay?”
“No.”
“Good.”
He looked at me.
“Good?”
“It means you care.”
“I preferred you when you only insulted my jackets.”
“No, you didn’t.”
“No.”
He took my hand.
“No, I didn’t.”
That evening, Adrien wore the finished olive suit to dinner with me.
No one moved aside when we entered.
He didn’t notice.
That might have been my favorite part.
Halfway through dessert, his phone rang.
He looked at the screen.
His face changed.
“Who is it?”
“My mother.”
I went still.
He let it ring twice.
Then answered.
“Hello?”
I watched his expression.
Shock.
Guardedness.
Then something I couldn’t identify.
After less than a minute, he said:
“Yes.”
A pause.
“When?”
Another pause.
“Fine.”
He hung up.
“What happened?”
Adrien stared at the phone.
“She’s coming to Chicago.”
“When?”
“Tomorrow.”
My stomach tightened.
“Why?”
His eyes lifted to mine.
“To meet you.”
May you like
And suddenly I understood that loving Adrien meant meeting ghosts I hadn’t tailored him to face.
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