ALEX'S POINT OF VIEW (Same Scene — Alex's Perspective)
I'd been avoiding her for four days.
Four days of leaving before dawn. Coming home after midnight. Taking calls in my study. Working until my eyes burned and my mind went numb.
Anything to not think about that night.
About how close I'd come to kissing her.
About how badly I'd wanted to.
I told myself it was nothing. A moment of weakness. Stress. Exhaustion.
But I knew I was lying.
That morning, I woke up at five. Got dressed. I stepped outside to clear my head before the day began.
I made my way to the gazebo and sat down with my tablet, hoping the quiet would settle something in me.
Then I saw her.
She stood a few feet away, framed by the early light. Her hair was loose around her shoulders, and she wore a simple dress. She looked tired, like she hadn't slept either.
For a second, neither of us moved.
Just silence. And her.
Something in my chest pulled tight.
I looked away first.
"Good morning," she said quietly.
Her voice was careful. Uncertain.
"Morning."
I sat at the table, opened my tablet. Pretended to read emails I'd already answered.
She made coffee. The sound of her moving around the kitchen filled the silence.
Then she sat across from me.
I could feel her looking at me.
Waiting for me to say something. Anything.
But I couldn't.
Because if I looked at her, if I really looked at her, I'd remember how it felt to stand that close. To see her lips just inches from mine.
I cleared my throat.
"There's a charity gala on Saturday."
She looked up. "A gala?"
"Yes. Children's hospital funding. High-profile event. Media will be there."
I kept my voice flat. Businesslike.
"You'll attend with me."
It was a statement.
"Okay," she said carefully.
"The stylist will come on Friday to prepare you. Dress appropriately. Behave appropriately. Smile when necessary."
Each word came out colder than I intended.
But it was safer this way.
Distance. Control.
"Act like we're happily married," I continued. "Don't embarrass me."
I saw her flinch.
Saw something hurt flash across her face.
It made me hate myself.
But I didn't take it back.
I stood, gathered my things.
"I have to go."
I walked past her without looking back.
Because if I looked back, I might apologize.
And I couldn't afford to be weak.
Friday, I stayed at the office until the stylist left.
Saturday, I got ready in one of the guest rooms.
Anything to avoid being alone with her.
But when it was time to leave, I had to face her.
I walked to our bedroom and knocked.
"Come in," she called.
I opened the door.
And forgot how to breathe.
She stood in front of the mirror in an emerald dress that hugged every curve before flowing to the floor. Her hair was styled in soft waves. Her makeup was subtle but perfect.
She was breathtaking.
More than beautiful.
She was... everything.
For a moment, I just stared.
My mind went blank except for one thought: mine.
She's mine.
Then reality crashed back.
No. She's not.
This is a contract. A business arrangement.
Nothing more.
I forced the words out. "Ready?"
My voice came out rougher than I meant.
She looked at me, something uncertain in her eyes.
"Yes."
We drove in silence.
I gripped the steering wheel too tightly, my knuckles white.
She sat beside me, looking out the window.
I could smell her perfume. Something light and floral.
It was making it impossible to think.
When we arrived, I saw the red carpet. The cameras. The crowd.
"Remember," I said as the car stopped. "Smile."
The door opened.
I stepped out first, then reached back for her.
The moment her hand touched mine, something sparked.
Electric. Undeniable.
I pulled her close to my side, my hand finding her waist.
Cameras flashed.
Voices shouted our names.
But all I could focus on was the warmth of her body against mine.
The way she fit perfectly under my arm.
"Smile wider," I murmured.
She did.
That bright, perfect smile she gave everyone else.
Never me.
I kept my expression neutral. Cold.
If I smiled, if I even let a crack show, everyone would see.
They'd see how much I wanted this to be real.
Inside the ballroom, I kept my hand on her.
Always touching her.
Her back. Her waist. Her arm.
Claiming her in the only way I could.
People approached us constantly.
Business associates. Investors. Friends.
"Congratulations on your marriage."
"Such a beautiful couple."
"You're a lucky man, Alexander."
Lucky.
If only they knew.
An older woman in gold cornered us, her smile too wide.
"Alexander, darling! You two make such a stunning couple."
"Mrs. Whitmore," I said politely. "Good to see you."
"Tell me, have you gone on your honeymoon yet?"
The question hit me like a punch.
Honeymoon.
My mind flashed images before I could stop it.
Elena on a beach. Sun on her skin. Smiling. Laughing.
With me.
Just us.
No contracts. No lies.
I shoved the thoughts away.
"We've been too busy," I said smoothly. "Work has been demanding. But we'll take one soon."
The lie tasted bitter.
Mrs. Whitmore patted Elena's arm. "Don't let him work too much, dear."
She walked away.
I felt Elena tense beside me.
My hand tightened on her waist.
Neither of us spoke.
The auction started.
We sat at a table near the front. I pulled out her chair, played my role perfectly.
But when I sat beside her, I left space between us.
Because sitting too close would be dangerous.
The bidding began.
Watches. Jewelry. Art.
I bid on a few items. Won some. Let others go.
Then the auctioneer announced the next lot.
"A two-week vacation to a private island in the Maldives. Luxury villa. Private beach. The perfect romantic getaway."
Images appeared on the screens. Crystal water. White sand. Paradise.
"Perfect for a honeymoon," the auctioneer added.
Something in my chest twisted.
The bidding started.
I raised my paddle.
Someone bid higher.
I bid again.
I didn't know why.
I didn't know what I was doing.
But I kept bidding.
Higher. Higher.
Until I won.
"Sold! To Mr. Alexander Reyes!"
Applause filled the room.
"Perfect timing! Now you have your honeymoon planned!"
I nodded.
But inside, I felt hollow.
Because we'd never use it.
I'd just spent a fortune on a fantasy that would never happen.
Elena excused herself to the restroom.
I sat there, staring at my champagne.
Then I saw him.
Nathan.
Walking toward our table.
Rage flooded through me. Hot and immediate.
"Alex. Elena."
His voice made my jaw clench.
I stood. "Nathan."
My voice was ice.
He smiled at Elena as she returned. "Elena, you look beautiful tonight."
She smiled back. "Thank you."
No.
"How's training going?" he asked. "I heard you've been improving."
Don't answer him.
"It's going well."
"She's doing fine," I cut her off, gripping her elbow. "We need to speak to someone. Excuse us."
I pulled her away.
I could feel her confusion. Her resistance.
But I couldn't stand there and watch him look at her like that.
Like she was something precious.
Like he had any right to her.
"Alex, that was rude."
"I don't care."
"You didn't have to be so cold to him."
"I told you to stay away from him."
"He approached us. I didn't."
"It doesn't matter. I don't want you talking to him."
"He's your friend."
"Not anymore."
The words came out harder than I meant.
But they were true.
Nathan stopped being my friend the moment he looked at Elena like that.
We stood in tense silence.
Then I felt it.
A shift in the air.
A chill down my spine.
I looked up.
And my entire world stopped.
Mia.
She stood at the entrance of the ballroom in a silver dress, looking around.
My heart slammed against my ribs.
No.
No, this isn't real.
This is a nightmare.
But she was real.
She was here.
Her eyes scanned the crowd.
Then they found me.
She smiled.
That smile I used to love.
That smile that used to make me believe in things like forever.
Before she destroyed me.
She started walking toward us.
Every step felt like a countdown to detonation.
I couldn't breathe.
Couldn't think.
Couldn't move.
My hand on Elena's waist tightened without meaning to.
"Alex?" Elena's voice seemed far away. "Who is that?"
I couldn't answer.
My throat had closed.
Mia reached us.
Time slowed.
"Hello, Alexander."
Her voice.
God, her voice.
It brought back everything.
Every memory. Every touch. Every broken promise.
Every piece of myself I'd buried when she left.
I forced words out. "Hello, Miss Morrison."
Using her surname like it would create distance.
Like it would protect me.
It wouldn't.
Mia turned to Elena, her smile warm.
"And you must be Elena. I'm Mia Morrison."
I watched Elena's face change.
Recognition. Shock.
She knew.
She knew who Mia was.
"It's wonderful to finally meet you," Mia continued. "I've seen you in the news. You and Alexander make such a beautiful couple."
The words felt like knives.
Beautiful couple.
With Elena, it was fake.
With Mia, it had been real.
And she'd left anyway.
"It's been a long time, hasn't it?" Mia said, looking at me.
"Yes." My voice was strained. "It has."
Her eyes held something I couldn't read.
Regret? Longing? I didn't know anymore.
"Alexander and I were very close once," she told Elena. "A lifetime ago."
Close.
We were everything.
Until we were nothing.
"I hope you don't mind me saying hello," Mia continued. "I've been away for a while, and when I heard Alexander had gotten married, I just had to come back."
Come back.
The words echoed in my head.
She came back.
After all these years, she came back.
"You're even more beautiful than the photos," Mia said to Elena. "He's a lucky man."
She looked at me meaningfully.
And I felt it again.
That old pull.
That old pain.
Everything I'd tried so hard to bury.
"I hope we can all have dinner sometime," Mia said. "Catch up properly. I'd love to get to know you better, Elena."
No.
No dinner. No catching up.
She left. She doesn't get to come back and act like we're friends.
But I couldn't say any of that.
Not here. Not now.
"That would be lovely," Elena said.
Mia smiled, touched Elena's arm gently.
"Wonderful. I'll leave you two to enjoy your evening. It was so nice meeting you."
She walked away.
And I couldn't breathe.
The pain I'd spent years suppressing came flooding back.
The love. The betrayal. The nights I couldn't sleep. The mornings I couldn't get out of bed.
The feeling of drowning.
Mia had left me broken.
And now she was back.
"Alex."
Elena's voice pulled me back.
I looked at her.
Saw confusion. Concern. Questions in her eyes.
I couldn't answer any of them.
"We're leaving."
"What? But…"
"Now."
I grabbed her hand.
Not gently.
Not carefully.
I just needed to get out of there.
I needed to breathe.
Needed to escape before I fell apart in front of everyone.
"Alex, wait…"
"I said we're leaving."
I pulled her toward the exit.
She resisted, confused, trying to understand.
But how could she understand?
How could anyone understand what it felt like to see the person who destroyed you walk back into your life as if nothing had happened?
We pushed through the crowd.
I felt eyes on us.
Mia's eyes.
Watching. Knowing.
She always knew how to break me.
We reached the car. I opened Elena's door, waited for her to get in.
Then I got on the driver's side.
My hands were shaking.
I gripped the steering wheel.
Took a breath.
Then another.
"Alex," Elena said quietly. "What just happened?"
"Nothing."
"That wasn't nothing. Who is she?"
"It doesn't matter."
"She's Mia. From the letters."
I closed my eyes.
Of course, she knew.
Of course, she'd figured it out.
"Alex, talk to me."
"There's nothing to talk about."
I started the car.
Pulled away from the venue.
Away from Mia.
But I couldn't escape what she'd brought back.
The pain.
The memories.
The feeling of being ripped apart.
I'd spent years building walls.
Years of making myself cold. Untouchable. Safe.
And in one night, those walls cracked.
Because Mia was back.
The woman who broke me once.
And sitting beside me was Elena.
The woman who could break me now.
If I let her.