The Man Who Waited vs. The Man Who Wasted novel Chapter 378

Thirty minutes later, another text from Gideon popped up.

[Do you still have feelings for this guy?]

Jocelyn raised an eyebrow, wondering why Gideon was suddenly playing therapist. She typed back simply:

[What do you think?]

Gideon: [Understood.]

The conversation went silent. Jocelyn stared at the ceiling. Understood? What exactly did he understand?

A few minutes later, her phone chimed again.

[Taken care of.]

Curiosity piqued, Jocelyn texted back: [How?]

Gideon: [Called the cops. Told them a stalker was harassing me. They came and hauled him off.]

A genuine laugh escaped Jocelyn, lifting the heavy anxiety that had been crushing her chest all evening. She couldn't help but appreciate Gideon's brutal efficiency. Life had made him cold and untrusting, but that edge made him fiercely loyal and incredibly decisive when it mattered.

After a stern warning from the police, Adrian was forced to leave the premises.

Humiliated and furious, he ended up at a high-end bar, drowning himself in expensive whiskey until he could barely stand. Lana got the call and rushed over to haul him out.

She dragged him back to her apartment and dumped him onto her bed.

Adrian was blind drunk, but his movements were terrifyingly deliberate. He grabbed Lana and dragged her down with a bruising force. There were no sweet words, no gentle prelude. It was a raw, predatory taking—frantic, aggressive, and entirely devoid of affection. He moved like a man trying to exorcise a demon, seeking oblivion rather than intimacy.

It hurt.

Lana closed her eyes against the physical sting, but she knew Adrian was in agony, too. His pain was just buried entirely in his chest.

She crushed the cigarette out in the ashtray, the nicotine suddenly making her nauseous. "You're in a bad mood."

Adrian's eyes were bloodshot. The exhaustion of his fractured reality was taking its toll. When he spoke, his voice was laced with a venomous betrayal.

"She lied to me. For years, she played me for a fool."

"Jocelyn?" Lana asked quietly.

Adrian's jaw tightened at the name. "Don't use that tone. She's not the victim here."

Lana looked down at her hands. Earlier that day at the flower shop, she had caught her ring finger on a heavy crate, snapping the nail completely off. The pain had brought tears to her eyes, and for a fleeting second, she had wanted to call him. She just wanted to hear his voice, to be comforted.

But she hadn't. Begging for affection from a man obsessed with someone else was just pathetic. Even now, after ravaging her body, he hadn't even noticed the bruised, broken nail on her hand.

Burying her heartbreak deep behind a mask of understanding, Lana gave him a gentle smile. "What exactly did she lie about?"