Chapter 137
Alexander’s POV
The air in the car had been unbearable.
e, and the silence had clawed at me every second of the drive back into town. Christiana sat beside me, quiet, her eyes occasionally moving toward me like she wanted to say something. Every time she did, I tightened my grip on the steering wheel, forcing myself not to speak, not to turn and tell her it was okay, that I understood.
Because I didn’t
Not yet
Her driver and two bodyguards had long left with her car, after she had signaled them to leave Daniel frigging Brooks apartment. This text is property of Nô/velD/rama.Org.
When we finally pulled up outside her suite, I cut the engine and sat there for a beat, staring straight ahead. My chest felt tight, like it might explode from the effort of holding back everything I wanted to say.
“Alex..” she started softly, her voice hesitant, but I raised a hand, cutting her od
“No,” I said, my tone sharper than I intended. Her face fell, and guilt stabbed at me, sharp and unrelenting.
She nodded, biting her lip as she opened the door and climbed out. I watched her walk toward the door, her steps s
slower than usual, her shoulders slumped as if the weight of the world pressed down on her.
I wanted to follow her. God, I wanted to pull her into my arms, kiss her, and tell her I wasn’t really angry, that I just didn’t know how to deal with what I’d seen. But I stayed in my seat, gripping the steering wheel like it was the only thing keeping me grounded.
The moment she disappeared inside, 1 let out a breath I didn’t realize I’d been holding. I leaned back against the headrest, closing my eyes.
“She deserves this.” I muttered to myself, though the words felt hollow.
I opened my eyes and stared at the dashboard. You can’t forgive her too quickly, Alex. She has to learn. The thought made my stomach churn, but I knew it was true. If I let this go, if I just brushed it under the rug like it didn’t matter, she’d think it was okay to let him back into her life again.
And it wasn’t
Not for me. Not for us,
I pulled out my phone
and
sent a quick text to my men-
___“Stay close. Don’t let her notice.”
I trusted them to keep an eye on her. I couldn’t leave her completely alone with her bodyguards, not with Daniel lurking around, probably still scheming to worm his way back into her life. But I needed space–space to cool down to figure out how to handle this without losing my mind.
Starting the car again, I drove aimlessly for a while, the city blurring past me in the glaring noon sun. My thoughts churned, a chaotic mess of anger, jealousy, and something I couldn’t quite name.
I wasn’t just angry at her. I was angry at myself. For not stopping her sooner. For not trusting her enough to handle this better. For feeling st goddamned weak every time I looked at her.
“You’re not weak” I told myself, gripping the wheel tighter. “You’re just human.
But being human wasn’t good enough right now. I had to be more than that for her, for us
Eventually, I pulled over at a park I barely recognized, parking under the shade of a massive oak tree. Killing the engine, I leaned forward, resting my head against the steering wheel
“She deserves it,” I whispered again,
but the
this time, my
y voice cracked.
I closed my eyes, picturing her face. The way her eyes had brimmed with tears as she begged me to listen. The way her voice had trembled when she said she loved me.
“You love her too a voice in my head whispered, and I clenched my fists, fighting the urge to punch the dashboard.
Of course, I loved her. That was the problem.
If I forgave her too quickly, if I let her see how much power she had over me, she’d think I was weak. And I couldn’t let that happen. Not after what I’d seen today
But faking this anger, pretending to be colder than I felt it was killing me. Every moment I spent away from her felt like torture, like I was punishing myself as much as I was punishingher.
My phone buzzed, breaking through my thoughts. It was a message from one of my men:
“She’s still at her hotel suite. No sign of Daniel”
I sighed, running a hand through my hair. At least she was safe. For now.
I leaned back in my seat, staring out at the park. A group of kids played in the distance, their laughter carried on the breeze. For a brief moment, I envied their simplicity, their freedom from this mess.
But I didn’t have time for envy. I had to figure out my next move, had to decide how to handle this without breaking us completely.
I pulled out my phone again, staring at her name in my contacts. My thumb hovered over the call button, but I didn’t press it.
Instead, I whispered to the empty car, “You’ll learn, Christiana. I’ll make sure you do,”
And yet, as I sat there, the ache in my chest only grew, reminding
me of one undeniable truth:
I needed her more than she’d ever know.