Dusk Snow Hides All Return (Rowan and Adrienne) novel Chapter 20

Chapter 20.

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Adrienne’s whole body jerked hard. The grip of her arms loosened for a split second.

Rowan caught that split second. One by one, firm and deliberate, he pried her locked fingers apart. His own fingers were ice–cold. The touch against her burning skin made her shiver involuntarily.

“Stop following me,” he said, turning around to look at her. There was zero warmth ra his eyes. “Or I’m calling the cops.”

He didn’t spare her another glance. He walked quickly toward an old car parked at the curb.

The driver’s side door opened. A young woman in a cream trench coat, gentle looking and pretty, stepped out. She looked at him, concerned, and asked in Mandarin, “Are you okay? That person just now…”

Rowan shook his head and pulled the passenger door open. “I’m fine. She’s nobody. Let’s go.”

The woman gave Adrienne, frozen stiff in the snow, one glance, didn’t ask anything else, got in the car, and started the engine.

The car took off, kicking up a spray of icy, muddy slush all over Adrienne.

Adrienne stayed exactly where she was, completely still, like a statue abandoned in the snow. Heavy snow kept coming down, landing on her shoulders, her hair, building up in a thin layer.

She watched the direction the car had disappeared, watched the empty intersection, and where her heart was supposed to be–it felt like it had been scooped out right along with that car, leaving just one huge hollow space with cold wind howling through it.

He was gone.

Really gone.

Didn’t want her.

Adrienne didn’t give up.

She turned into an obsessive ghost, silently creeping into every corner of Rowan’s life in Montreal.

The private investigator she’d hired was good. He tracked down Rowan’s address fast-

It was on the third floor of a rundown apartment building in Old Montreal, with bad lighting and narrow stairwells, but cheap rent,

She didn’t dare go up. Scared he’d actually call the police. Even more scared of seeing deeper disgust in his eyes.

All she dared to do was find an inconspicuous corner on the street across from his building and watch from far away.

She saw him leave at seven every morning, bundled up in his down jacket, heading for the subway. Face still pale, but his steps were steady.

She saw him come home from class in the afternoon, stopping at the corner store downstairs to buy the cheapest bread and milk. A stray cat would come up to him. He’d crouch down, tear off a small piece of bread from the bag, and set it gently on the ground. He’d watch the cat eat it, and the tiniest, faintest curve would show up at the corner of his mouth–gone in a second.

Adrienne drank in that smile, her chest tight with pain.

How long had it been since she’d seen him smile like that?

She also saw that woman–the one driving the car–dropping him off all the time.

Sometimes it was the old car. Sometimes they walked.

The two of them would stand outside the apartment building and talk. The woman would tip her head up slightly, listening to him with complete focus, then nod and smile, her eyes soft. Adrienne recognized that look. That was the look a woman got when she was looking at the man she loved.

Jealousy was venom, eating her alive from the inside.

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Later, she found out the woman’s name was Viena Hayes, a french teacher at Alliance Française who had come to Montreal a few years before him and took good care of him.

He was working a part time job at a café too.

Adrienne found the place, which was a small spot with simple decor and not a lot of customers.

She went there every afternoon, ordered the most expensive coffee on the menu, sat in the corner booth, and parked there for

hours.

He wore a waiter’s apron, wiping down tables, taking orders, and running coffee quickly and efficiently.

When customers tried to flirt or gave him a hard time, he always managed to deflect smoothly, a polite, distant smile on his face.

That was until one time, when a drunk customer started a fight with him, his mouth running with filthy stuff. The Café Manager came running over at the noise. Instead of backing Rowan up, the guy started chewing him out. “Can’t you read the situation? You offended a customer.”

Adrienne lost it right there.

She stood up, walked over, grabbed the drunk’s wrist, twisted hard, and flung him off in the middle of his pained yelp. Then she turned to the manager, eyes cold as ice. “I’m buying this café. Right now. Get out.”

The manager was rattled by her terrifying presence. He took in her expensive clothes too and didn’t dare push back. He slunk off without a word.

Rowan didn’t even look at her. He turned and walked into the back kitchen.

Adrienne chased after him, cornering him in the narrow back hallway. “Rowan, don’t work here anymore. It’s too rough. Those people-”

“Adrienne.” Rowan cut her off, voice flat and steady. “Stay out

my

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