Naomi Let Adrian Back Into Her Life Only After He Stopped Asking When
Chapter 10 - Naomi Let Adrian Back Into Her Life Only After He Stopped Asking When
For almost a year after his release, Adrian and Naomi did not date.
People assumed they did.
Photographs of school pickup.
A museum fundraiser where both attended.
One birthday dinner.
Internet stories:
MORETTI REUNITES WITH SECRET DAUGHTER’S MOTHER.
NAOMI ELLIS BACK IN MORETTI ORBIT.
Naomi hated “orbit.”
As if Adrian were a planet and every woman nearby a moon.
She ignored it.
Adrian did too.
Mostly.
Then a magazine offered Naomi money for an interview.
“Five years hidden from the Moretti family.”
She declined.
Not because Adrian asked.
He did not know until later.
Then her career changed.
The Boston Museum Collaborative offered Naomi a director-level role overseeing capital campaigns and donor strategy.
The title was better.
So was the pay.
More travel.
She accepted.
Adrian congratulated her.
Did not send flowers to the office.
Progress.
He sent a text:
Proud of you, if I’m allowed to say that.
Naomi replied:
You are allowed.
Then he smiled for ten minutes like an idiot.
Julie noticed.
“You are exhausting.”
Yes.
Then co-parenting became ordinary enough to reveal incompatibilities that secrecy had once hidden.
Adrian hated being late.
Naomi considered five minutes a social abstraction.
Adrian packed too much for Lily.
Naomi forgot chargers.
Adrian thought children should learn to shake hands.
Naomi thought adults should stop touching children without asking.
They compromised:
Lily could wave.
Then food.
Adrian believed dessert followed dinner.
Naomi believed a cookie at four did not threaten civilization.
Lily exploited both.
Normal.
Then one evening, Naomi had an event.
Her sitter canceled.
Julie was traveling.
She asked Adrian:
“Can Lily stay with you Thursday?”
He looked at the calendar.
“Yes.”
No drama.
Then:
“Overnight?”
“Yes.”
It was the first time Naomi asked because she needed him, not because a schedule required.
Adrian noticed.
Did not mention it.
That mattered.
Then Naomi’s event ran late.
At eleven thirty, she texted:
Too late to pick her up. Morning okay?
Adrian replied:
Yes.
Then wanted to add:
Stay too.
Did not.
Morning came.
Naomi arrived in yesterday’s black dress with coffee and exhaustion.
Lily was still asleep.
Adrian opened the door.
Naomi looked at him.
“Do you have coffee?”
“Yes.”
“Can I have some?”
“Yes.”
They sat in the kitchen.
No child between them.
No lawyers.
No surgery.
No court.
Dangerous.
Naomi said:
“You look different here.”
“In a kitchen?”
“In a life that’s smaller.”
Adrian looked around the apartment.
He liked it.
Two bedrooms.
No formal dining room.
No live-in staff.
One housekeeper twice a week.
Security downstairs because conditions and threat assessment justified it, not because he wanted every room watched.
“I like smaller.”
Naomi smiled.
“You used to need twelve chairs even when nobody was coming.”
“My father bought those chairs.”
“You kept them.”
“Fair.”
Then silence.
Adrian asked:
“Are you seeing anyone?”
Naomi looked at him.
There it was.
Personal.
Allowed?
Maybe.
She answered.
“No.”
He nodded.
Did not ask why.
Then she asked:
“Are you?”
“No.”
“Why?”
He smiled.
“You get follow-up questions?”
“Yes.”
“Because I haven’t wanted to.”
Naomi’s face changed slightly.
Then:
“Because of me?”
Adrian could have made it romantic.
He chose accuracy.
“Partly. Also because reentry, Lily, recovery, and dating felt like too many people needing honesty at once.”
She laughed.
“Reasonable.”
Then Lily appeared in the doorway.
Hair wild.
Pearl dragging by one ear.
“Why are you both here?”
Naomi said:
“Because adults occasionally coordinate.”
Lily looked suspicious.
Then demanded pancakes.
The moment passed.
Months later, Adrian asked Naomi to dinner.
Not framed as co-parenting.
She said no.
He accepted.
Three months later, she asked him.
That mattered more.
Dinner at a small place in Cambridge.
No security inside.
No headlines.
They talked about everything except Lily for the first hour.
Books.
Naomi’s work.
Adrian’s board frustrations.
A terrible hotel renovation she had seen.
Then past.
Not avoidable forever.
Naomi said:
“I used to think if you changed, I would want you back.”
Adrian’s chest tightened.
“And?”
“I changed too.”
“I don’t want the relationship we had, even repaired.”
He nodded.
“Neither do I.”
“Do you?”
“Yes.”
She studied him.
Then:
“What do you want?”
Adrian thought.
“Something where leaving the room is not a threat.”
Naomi looked down at her wine.
“That’s very specific.”
“Yes.”
Then:
“I want to know you now.”
Not:
get you back.
Naomi smiled faintly.
“That I could maybe do.”
The first kiss happened four dates later.
Outside her building.
No child asleep upstairs? Lily was with Julie.
Naomi kissed him.
Not Adrian.
Important.
Then she stopped.
Looked at him.
“You’re very quiet.”
“I’m trying not to ruin it.”
She laughed.
“By existing?”
“Historically, I’ve done more with less.”
Then she kissed him again.
They did not tell Lily immediately.
Dr. Levin advised waiting until relationship had enough stability not to turn every adult uncertainty into a child question.
Six months.
Then they told her.
Lily stared.
“So you’re boyfriend and girlfriend?”
Naomi winced.
Adrian said:
“Something like that.”
Lily looked delighted.
Then suspicious.
“Are you getting married?”
“No plans,” Naomi said.
“Why?”
“Because dating is not an audition.”
Lily did not understand.
Adrian did.
Then one year into dating, Adrian made another error.
Less dramatic.
Still important.
Naomi’s museum campaign was short $600,000 on a matching deadline.
Public information.
Adrian could donate.
He had donated to museums before.
He told himself that made it neutral.
He almost sent $250,000 anonymously.
Then stopped at the authorization screen.
Called Naomi.
“The museum needs matching funds.”
“I am aware.”
“Would a donation from me create a problem?”
She took time.
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“Because I’m the campaign director.”
“Even anonymous?”
“Especially anonymous if I know.”
He exhaled.
“Okay.”
Then:
“Can Moretti Foundation donate next year to a different program through normal grant cycle?”
Naomi laughed.
“Ask their board, not me.”
He did.
Next year, the independent foundation board funded a museum-access program at another institution.
Not Naomi’s.
He survived.
Then their relationship became serious enough for a new problem.
Naomi received a three-year job offer in Chicago.
Not because Adrian.
A national museum association.
Senior vice president.
More money.
Broader role.
She wanted it.
Lily’s life was in Boston.
Adrian’s primary home and businesses were Chicago.
Suddenly every question they had postponed about geography arrived at once.
And Adrian had to prove whether he could hear:
I want Chicago
May you like
without translating it into:
I want your life.
