Chapter 96

Lauren

The hallway outside Alexander’s office was quiet, save for the faint hum of voices drifting up from downstairs. Dark wood lined the walls, soaking up the chandelier light, making everything feel dimmer, heavier.

We hadn’t really talked since everything happened—aside from dinner, and even then, he’d been silent, lost in thought.

My heart pounded as I stood at his door.

It had taken all day to work up the nerve to come here. To face him.

I could turn back, crawl into bed, ignore this for another night. But maybe I knew better. Maybe I’d finally hit a wall—I couldn’t be selfish anymore. Not when our kids were involved.

The past didn’t matter. What mattered was that he was the father of my children, and with whatever was coming, we needed to be a team.

I raised my hand to knock—then froze at the sound of his voice, low and measured.

He was on a call.

I exhaled shakily, stepping back. Maybe later. Maybe this was a sign to wait, to give him space before forcing another conversation—

But the door wasn’t fully closed.

Through it, I glimpsed Alexander at his desk, bathed in the dim glow of his lamp, shadows stretching across the room.

Papers lay scattered across the mahogany surface, some crumpled, a whiskey glass half-full beside his laptop. His sleeves were pushed up, forearms tense, tie loosened, and the top buttons of his shirt undone, exposing sharp collarbones. His hair was mussed, like he’d run his fingers through it too many times.

He looked… tired.

Not just in the slump of his shoulders or the way his fingers hovered near his temple, but deeper—the kind of exhaustion that settled into a man’s bones. His lips pressed into a firm line, brows drawn, eyes fixed on something distant.

And for a moment, I hesitated.

Would my presence just add to that weight?

Or had I already?

I didn’t realize I’d stepped forward until my fingertips brushed the doorframe, pushing it open a little more. The hinge creaked softly, and I winced.

Alexander glanced up, sharp-eyed, his gaze locking onto mine.

I immediately started to backpedal. “Sorry—I didn’t mean to interrupt, I’ll just—”

He lifted a hand, motioning for me to stay.

I hesitated before stepping inside, gently closing the door behind me.

Alexander’s eyes lingered on me for a beat longer before he refocused on his call.

“Understood,” he said, voice clipped. “We’ll follow up tomorrow. Send me the revised documents before then.”

A pause.

His jaw flexed slightly, a muscle ticking as he listened. Then, finally—

“Fine.” He exhaled sharply through his nose. “We’ll revisit it later. Goodbye.”

The moment he hung up, silence stretched between us.

I shifted awkwardly, my fingers curling at my sides. “I didn’t mean to barge in—”

“You’re fine,” he said, voice unreadable. He leaned back slightly in his chair, studying me. “How are you feeling?”

I swallowed. Careful question.

“Fine,” I said automatically.

A small silence.

The air felt thick, weighted by too much unsaid between us.

I took a slow breath, forcing myself to meet his gaze. “I wanted to apologize.”

His expression didn’t change, but something about him stilled.

“For everything,” I continued, voice quieter. “For lying about the pill. For… Liam. For sleeping with you when I wasn’t fully there.” I paused, hating how small my voice felt. “I’m sorry, Alexander. I want to… make this work. I do. We’re partners in this and I’m tired of not acting like it. I’m tired of…hating you unfairly.”

He didn’t speak right away.

For a moment, I thought he might not answer at all. But then he nodded, rubbing a hand across his jaw.

“Okay,” he said simply.

That was it.

Okay.

I shouldn’t have expected more, but God, it hurt.

He must’ve seen something in my face because he sighed, leaning forward, his elbows resting on his desk. “I just need time, Lauren.”

I nodded, throat tightening. “I understand.”

And I did. But that didn’t make it easier.

Silence settled again, heavier than before.

And then—

It slipped out before I could stop myself. “Liam kissed me.”

The air in the room shifted.

I bit my tongue almost instantly, but I was tired of him finding out things too late. Of hiding everything from him. So… maybe this was better.

Alexander went very still. His gaze snapped to mine, sharp, dangerous.

Or not.

“…What?”

I exhaled hard. “It was at the restaurant,” I said quietly. “He used a command, kissed me.”

Alexander’s grip tightened on the edge of his desk. “And you’re just telling me this now?”

I sighed, running a hand through my hair. “It’s not like we had time. And because I knew you’d be upset.”

His eyes darkened. “And you’re not?”

My breath hitched. “Of course I am!”

“Then why the hell did you let him—?”

He stopped like he already knew the answer but I continued anyways.

“It wasn’t like that and you know it.”

His fingers drummed against the desk, a sharp, frustrated sound. “So explain it to me, then.”

I hesitated.

And that was enough.

He pushed back his chair, standing, his presence suddenly overwhelming. “That’s what I thought.”

Frustration burned in my chest. “You think I wanted it?”

“It doesn’t matter, Lauren,” he shot back, his voice edged with something darker—exhaustion, frustration, maybe even something close to resignation. “What the hell am I supposed to think anymore? Because I genuinely don’t know. One second, you’re here, the next, you’re running, then you lie to my face. Over and over.”

His hands curled into fists at his sides, his jaw tight. “I have done nothing but try to make up for my mistakes, to fix what I broke, but I will never enough for you again, will I? No matter what I do.”

He exhaled sharply, raking a hand through his hair before leveling his gaze at me, stormy and sharp. “I can’t keep apologizing for my past while you cover your ears and pretend none of this is happening. You want to hate me? Fine. Do it. But don’t expect me to understand you when you refuse to let me in. Don’t expect me to stand here and watch you destroy yourself when you won’t even let me help.”

I opened my mouth, then closed it. We were spiraling. This was why I hadn’t wanted to bring it up—because Alexander’s emotions ran deep, ran hot, and I forgot how I used to calm him long ago.

My hands curled into fists at my sides. “You don’t trust me. Trust it wasn’t a command?” I was… useless.

His jaw tightened. “I want to.”

That stung.

More than it should have.

I exhaled shakily, blinking against the sting behind my eyes.

I didn’t want to fight. I didn’t want to add to the distance already stretching between us.

So I did the only thing I could think of—the thing I used to do when we argued, before everything. Before I died. Before the divorce papers.

I stepped forward—

And pulled him into a hug, my fingers threading into the nape of his hair, stroking softly.

Alexander froze.

For a moment, he didn’t react.

Then, slowly, his hands lifted, hovering near my sides, uncertain—like he didn’t know if he was allowed to touch me.

I buried my face against his chest, his warmth sinking into my skin, into my bones. His scent wrapped around me—clean cedar, a whisper of smoke, and something else, something purely him. It hit harder than I expected, making my fingers tighten in his shirt.

“I’m sorry, okay?” My voice was barely above a whisper, muffled against him. “I’m trying. I want to fix this. I want us. But for now, can you just… hold me?”

A long silence stretched between us, thick with everything unsaid. His body was tense, his breath slow, controlled—too controlled.

Then, finally, his arms came around me. Tight. Firm. Possessive.

I exhaled unsteadily, pressing closer, my body molding against his. He was so warm, solid, his pulse a steady rhythm beneath my cheek. For a moment, I just let myself sink into him—the strength of him, the quiet comfort that had always been there beneath the storm.

His hand slid up, fingers threading into my hair, tilting my head just enough that his lips brushed my temple. A ghost of a touch—barely there, yet enough to send a shiver down my spine. His breath warmed my skin, lingering, hesitant.

He didn’t pull away.

Neither did I.

We stood there, wrapped in each other, the rest of the world fading to nothing.

His grip shifted, fingers pressing into my lower back, pulling me closer. His heartbeat was slow but deep, and I wondered if he could feel mine racing against him—if he knew how easily I melted under his touch, how familiar it felt, like I had never forgotten.

I tilted my head, my lips just barely brushing the open collar of his shirt, the heat of his skin against my mouth. I wasn’t sure if it was intentional, but the sharp inhale he took told me he noticed.

His hold on me tightened.

For a second, I thought he’d pull away, retreat behind his walls. But instead, he exhaled, slow and measured, his fingers digging into my waist, his body shifting just the slightest bit closer.

“Lauren,” he murmured, his voice rough, strained.

I closed my eyes. “Just a little longer.”

And he didn’t let go.