Adriana’s POV

It was evening by the time they drove into Del Rio, Texas, and the first thing Adriana noticed was the chaos. Cars lined every street and there were colourful cowboy hats everywhere, families were hauling coolers and lawn chairs like it was the Superbowl of cattle. Adriana pressed her forehead against the Jeep window, half-laughing and half groaning.

“Tell me why this entire state is obsessed with rodeos?” she muttered.

Jose chuckled. “It is tradition.”

“Tradition is exhausting,” she fired back.

By the time they circled town twice, every halfway-decent hotel flashed a red “No Vacancy” sign. Adriana sighed in frustration and let her head fall back against the seat. “This is ridiculous. We’re going to end up sleeping in the Jeep.”

Jose shrugged. “I’ve done worse.”

She shot him a glare from under her sunglasses. “You mean I’ve done worse. You? I don’t see you slumming it in parking lots. Aren't you supposed to be the rich CEO guy?”

Jose gave me the first irritated look I'd seen on him that night. "I wasn't always rich."

Still, when they pulled up to a run-down motel with peeling paint and buzzing neon, she climbed out first and announced, “We’re staying here. Period.”

Inside, the clerk handed her one key without apology. Adriana grabbed it, tossed a too-bright smile at Jose, and marched upstairs like she’d won.

In the room, she dropped her bag on the bed. “Home sweet home.” She muttered.

Jose leaned against the doorframe, scanning the place with a cool look. “Uh, no thanks. I’ll take the Jeep.”

Adriana turned toward him. “Seriously, CEO?”

“Don't call me that. And you need the space,” he replied evenly. “So do I.”

For a second, she wanted to argue, but she remembered what had happened between them on the one night they actually stayed in a room together. Was that not the reason why she wanted distance between them?

“Fine." She grumbled. "Enjoy your… leather mattress.”

He almost smiled at her joke, but then he turned and left.

Alone, Adriana collapsed onto the bed, grabbed her phone and opened Instagram.

The diner selfie was everywhere now. There were thousands of likes and thousands of comments. Half of them were sweet comments: “Queen healing era,” “She’s glowing, he’s so lucky.” "Is that Jose Torres?!"

The other half of the comments were vicious—“Homewrecker watch,” “Didn’t take her long to move on from Carlos?”

Adriana’s stomach knotted, but she whispered, “This is chaos. But chaos is good. Chaos means I’m still relevant. Right? Right.”

She scrolled anyway, eyes burning with every cruel word. Finally, she tossed the phone onto the nightstand with annoyance.

In some minutes, she heard a knock on the door and moved to open it. It was room service in the form of a short, buxom lady.

"The gentleman downstairs named Torres asked me to deliver this to your room!" The woman chirped with a smile.

Adriana collected the tray in pleasant surprise. Jose had ordered a meal for her? Who would have thought that there was a heart of gold underneath that tough mask that he carried around?

She bid the woman bye, opened the tray and saw lukewarm pasta and a soda in a sweating glass. She sat on the bed and pushed it around the plate, appetite gone, then shoved the tray toward the door untouched.

The bathroom mirror wasn’t kind either. Fluorescent lights washed her face pale, dark circles peeking under her concealer. She tied her hair back, grabbed the mini travel kit from her bag and began a ritual she knew by heart: cleanser, mask, moisturizer. Movements were mechanical, but at least her hands were busy.

Halfway through, she caught her own reflection and whispered, “You’re fine. You’re always fine.”

But Adriana wasn't fine. Like hell, she was. Her world seemed to be falling apart, even though she tried to hide it. From the thing with Carlos, to driving cross-country with a man she met less than two days ago, to this ACCURAED Instagram post, everything seemed set up to make her lose her mind.

The mask cooled against her skin, but it didn’t erase the noise in her head. Adriana heard Carlos’s laugh with Rachel. She heard Jose’s voice saying it wasn’t nothing. She saw in her mind's eye, the SUV parked across the road.

She rinsed her face, patted it dry and stared at herself again. “Smile,” she told the mirror. Her lips curved in a brittle imitation. “Perfect. Totally believable.”

Her phone buzzed on the dresser. She didn’t check it. She knew it would be more comments, maybe headlines, maybe another notification from a gossip account. She left it there with the face down, and crawled onto the bed.

The sheets smelled of cigarette smoke masked with lemon cleaner. She curled up, pulled the blanket over her head and tried to convince herself that she wasn’t scared.

But she couldn't sleep.

In minutes, Adriana found herself on her feet again and pacing the room. She found her way to the window and peeked out.

From the second-floor window, Adriana spotted that fucking black SUV again, parked across the street so quietly. The engine was on; she could tell by the faint shimmer of exhaust in the warm night air.

“No… no way.” She pressed her forehead to the glass, narrowing her eyes. The same car from earlier. The same shape, the same tinted windows, the same everything.

Was she being tailed?

She forced herself to back away. “Don’t panic,” she whispered. “It’s just a car.”

But her hands shook as she grabbed her phone. She opened her chat with Taylor her manager, and saw that he'd left a long string of messages for her.

Adriana typed a quick text to Taylor: All good, Tay. Just taking some time for myself. Don’t worry.

She added no emojis, nothing that gave away the way she was feeling.

Then she opened her notes app and wrote a messy paragraph to her parents: I’m fine. Please don’t freak out. I’ll call when I can. She stared at the words, chewing her lip. “Lies,” she muttered before deleting it. They’d know the second they heard her voice that she wasn’t fine.

Her phone buzzed again with another notification about the viral selfie. She flipped the screen down, refusing to give it attention.

Her body was filled with restless energy. She needed air. She needed to move. She needed to stop staring at that car.

“I’m not scared,” she told the empty room, though her voice cracked.

She grabbed her keycard, shoved it in her pocket and left the phone behind so she wouldn’t be tempted to check the comments again.

Her reflection in the mirror beside the door looked pale and scared, but her chin was tilted like she was still holding her ground. “You’re fine,” she whispered to herself. “You’ve always been fine.”

She pushed out into the hallway.

The motel corridor hummed under dim yellow lights. Her sandals slapped softly against the carpet as she started down the hall, determined to shake off the fear pressing on her ribs.

She’d barely taken five steps when someone rounded the corner. It was a man dressed in grease-stained jeans, with calloused hands. Looks like he’s lived a thousand miles on the road.

“Evening,” the black haired bloke greeted casually, though his voice had a practiced edge.

She forced her lips into something that resembled a polite smile. “Hi. Just going for a walk.”

His eyes moved down the hallway, then back to her. “It is not safe out there.”

Adriana forced her tone to be even. “Meh. I’ll take my chances.”

He shifted and blocked more of the hallway. “You shouldn’t wander alone.”

“I’m not alone.” Her chin lifted. “My friend is right behind me.”

He glanced behind her. “Really?”

“Yeah,” she snapped. “So unless you want him here in about three seconds, I’d step aside.”

The man’s mouth twitched, he looked amused but he was still not moving. “Relax. I'm just giving advice.”

"Then take your advice and point it at someone else!"

Adriana forced her legs to move, stepping past him with steady strides. She desperately wanted to run.

The motel’s exit glowed faintly at the end of the hall and she pushed toward it. Five steps into her walk, and peace was already gone.