Chapter 54

Lauren

Daphne had offered to babysit Abigail and Owen, leaving us alone for the first time in what felt like forever. And suddenly everything felt more... complicated.

When I woke up, I had expected a day like any other—an ordinary day with the kids, trying to adjust to our new normal. But Alexander had different plans.

After finding the kids gone, I entered my bedroom, a dress was neatly laid out on the bed. I froze for a moment, unsure of how to react. It was a deep red, silk and flattering in a way that made me feel like I should have a purpose for wearing it.

A note was tucked under the hem.

“Enjoy a day to yourself. Wear this tonight. We’re going out, I’ll pick you up at 7.”

I stared at the dress, the familiar butterflies stirring in my stomach. It was a gesture, simple but thoughtful. Yet it left me with an overwhelming sense of unease.

Sure, I had agreed to a private dinner with him, but I hadn't expected he would actually get me a dress. After everything that had happened between us, after the hurt, the broken pieces we’d never fully fixed, a date felt like... well, a lot.

I had no idea what was happening between us. But here I was, slipping into the dress, adjusting the straps, and staring at my reflection in the mirror. The woman looking back at me felt unfamiliar—different.

It wasn’t just the dress; it was everything between Alexander and me. The history. The guilt. The resentment. And, somehow, the longing.

The thought of spending the evening with him—alone—made my pulse quicken in a way I hadn’t expected.

I spent the day doing... honestly, nothing. And it was the first time in forever I’d allowed myself to do nothing. It felt more amazing than I could’ve imagined—sleeping, scrolling through my phone, munching on fruit.

I almost felt guilty for not being productive, which is why I ended up getting ready way too early. I took the longest shower, an “everything” shower—shaving, exfoliating, the whole nine yards.

Not for him, of course. It just... felt nice.

When I finally made my way downstairs that evening, Alexander was already waiting by th door. He was dressed in a black button-up shirt that stretched over his broad shoulders, his hair styled perfectly—casual but with a sharp edge.

He didn’t say anything when he saw me, but the way his eyes lingered on me, the way his lips twitched at the corners, told me everything I needed to know.

“You look...” He paused, and I saw a flicker of something in his eyes. Something I didn’t dare name. “Good. You look good.”

I felt my cheeks flush, but I wasn’t sure if it was from the compliment or from the strange knot that had formed in my stomach.

We had been here before—too many times—but now it felt different. Everything felt different. I had new scars, and so did he. We were older, but it didn’t feel that way by the way these teenage butterflies danced annoying.

“You clean up nice too, big guy,” I teased, pushing his chest out my way to his smirk.

The space between us seemed too small, yet too large at the same time.

We drove in silence to the restaurant, the kind of quiet that was deafening. It wasn’t uncomfortable, exactly, but it wasn’t easy either. Every time I glanced over at him, I caught a glimpse of the man I once knew, the man I’d married, and it unsettled me.

I was still angry, and yet, I was here.

When we arrived, he opened the door for me, holding out his hand for me to take. I did, oddly enough, and his hand brushed against mine in a way that sent a jolt of electricity up my arm.

It was brief—too brief—but it lingered. I couldn’t remember the last time we’d had that kind of touch. The kind that wasn’t fought for.

Dinner was no better. I thought the butterflies would leave me, and die out half way through but, they persisted like gnats.

Alexander pulled my chair out for me as we sat at the table, and as he placed his hand on the small of my back to guide me down, the warmth of his touch lingered. For a moment, I forgot to breathe. His fingers were just a little too close, just a little too familiar, and it made my heart race.

“Thanks,” I muttered, the word feeling foreign on my tongue to him. It had been a long time since I’d let him help me with anything.

We sat in silence for a few moments, the soft hum of conversation around us filling the gaps where our words should have been. The candlelight flickered between us, casting shadows that made everything feel just a little more intimate.

“So,” he said, breaking the silence. “How are you feeling about everything? The move, the kids...”

I hesitated, swirling the wine in my glass, trying to find the right words. How was I supposed to feel? I didn’t know anymore. “I don’t know,” I admitted. “It’s a lot. But... it’s good, too. I mean, we’re making it work, right?”

He gave a short, quiet laugh, leaning back in his chair, his eyes watching me with an intensity that made me uncomfortable. “Yeah. We’re making it work. But I can’t help but feel like there’s more to it. Like we’re both pretending everything’s fine.”

I didn’t answer right away. What could I say? That I felt the same way? That I missed the simplicity of what we had before, before the mistakes, the hurt, and the guilt?

Instead, I took a deep breath and changed the subject. “How’s Abigail with you? Settling in? And Owen? Any changes I should know about?”

He sighed, running a hand through his hair. “They’re well. Abigail’s... excited. She just seems excited to call me dad, which is…sweet. Owen, though, is more guarded. I think he’s happy. Much happier than before.”

I nodded, glancing at my plate, but my mind wasn’t on the food. “We’ve got some greatkids,” I said softly. “They deserve more than what we gave them before. We’ve got to make this work for them.”

“I know,” he said quietly, his voice softening. “I know.”

We both fell silent again, the weight of our words settling in the space between us. We were still avoiding the past, but I didn’t know how to handle it. We had both been carrying guilt around for so long, and now it was finally coming to the surface.

“I heard rumors,” Alexander said after a long pause. “Back when we were still married. About you. About why you married me.”

I felt a pang in my chest, despite being thankful he opened the door. “And what did you believe?” I asked, my voice barely above a whisper.

His eyes met mine, a flicker of regret in them. “I was young. Stupid. I believed them. I thought you only married me for the status, for the connections. And I—” He stopped, swallowing hard. “I was wrong. I should’ve trusted you more.”

I looked away, trying to swallow the lump in my throat. Huh. So that’s why he did it. “I didn’t marry you for status, Alexander. I married you because I thought... I thought you were the one. I didn’t know what I was getting into. I didn’t know I was going to lose myself in the process.”

There was a long silence, the weight of our past hanging heavily between us. And for a moment, I almost wanted to say more—about how I’d faked my death, how I’d been left alone, abandoned by the one person I thought would always be there. But the words caught in my throat, and I quickly shifted gears.

“I need this to be different this time,” I said, my voice steady, but there was a weight behind it. “For the kids. For us. You need to be all in. Not for me—but if not for me, then for them. Always. No exceptions.”

He met my eyes, his gaze soft but serious. “I will.”

“No.” My voice cut through the moment, sharp and unyielding. “This isn’t a favor. It’s a demand. If it’s between me and them, it’s always them. If it’s between you and them, it’s always them. Every single time. Do you hear me?”

His eyes locked onto mine with a fire I hadn’t seen in years. There was something raw, something unshakable in them. “I won’t need to choose,” he said, his voice low, but with an intensity that shook me.

“Alexander—”

“Because I will never let you, my Luna, or my children suffer again,” he said, his words like a vow. “I would rather die than let that happen. Do you hear me, Lauren?”

“Heard,” I answered immediately as if to challenge him, but he met it head-on.

“Check please,” I called loudly, raising my hand.

Alexander smirked. “I think you owe me a dance next time.”

I laughed, the sound feeling foreign after everything we’d just said. “A dance? Really?”

He leaned in slightly, his eyes glinting with mischief. “Really.”

And just like that, the air shifted. The awkwardness was still there, but now there was something else too. Something that, for a brief moment, made everything feel... possible.