Alexander POV.
Watching Christiana walk away shattered something inside me, and the sound of the bathroom door closing felt like a final, painful echo of everything I’d destroyed. My chest tightened as her sobs filtered through the walls, the quiet agony of each one tearing into me. I ran a hand over my face, dragging it down slowly as I cursed myself under my breath.
“Why did you bring it up again?” I muttered, pacing the room as guilt twisted in my stomach. “God, you’ve already apologized a hundred times. Why couldn’t you just let it go?”
I sat down heavily on the edge of the bed, running a hand through my hair. I’d wanted to make things right, to give her the honesty she deserved. But the moment I saw her face fall, watched the old pain fill her eyes, I knew I’d only made things. worse. Even now, I could still see that look, the quiet devastation, the way her shoulders had slumped just a little as if the weight of those memories was too much to bear.
I clenched my fists, staring down at the floor. “You idiot,” I whispered harshly. “You had her back, and now…” My jaw tightened, shame flooding me as I thought of all the nights she must have cried herself to sleep, alone, while I was… God, I’d been so blind.
Since we came here, she’d never spoken about those years, never once thrown my mistakes back in my face, like she used to at other times. Christiana was so strong, stronger than anyone I’d ever known. But that only made it worse. Knowing she’d endured all of that without me while I lived in my own delusions.
I could hear the soft, broken sobs coming from the other side of the door, and it made me hate myself even more. I felt my throat tighten, raw with the things I couldn’t take back, the regrets that would forever scar what we had now.
I stood, stepping toward the bathroom door, my hand hovering over it, wanting so desperately to open it, to reach out to her. “Christiana…” My voice came out as a whisper, barely loud even to myself. I knew she didn’t want me near her right now. She’d made that clear. But I couldn’t just leave it like this.
I leaned my forehead against the door, closing my eyes as the memories of my own failures taunted me. How many times had she begged me back then, pleaded with me to listen, to see the truth? And how many times had I turned my back on her, convinced she was somehow the problem? I felt my jaw clench, my hands balling into fists as anger, no, self–loathing…boiled up inside me.
“Christiana,” I said, a bit louder this time, knowing she likely didn’t want to hear it. “I… I know you need space, but please… please know I’m sorry. I’d give anything to erase it all if I could.”
I leaned back, letting out a shaky breath, frustration and regret choking me as I ran a hand through my hair again. This wasn’t the first time I’d apologized, hell, I’d spent every day since she’d let me back in her life trying to prove how sorry I was. But it never felt like enough. I’d betrayed her, humiliated her, and left her when she needed me most. And now… now I was lucky enough to have her by my side again, and I was doing everything in my power to mess it up.
I paced back across the room, my mind clouded with memories of the past. The image of her being pregnant, working those late nights at that damn restaurant, waiting tables to make ends meet… It haunted me. I’d been so lost, so wrapped up in my own arrogance, that I hadn’t even realized what she was going through.
My voice cracked as I muttered to myself, “You don’t deserve her. Not after everything you put her through.”
I’d been so busy chasing illusions, chasing Bianca, believing the lies I’d told myself about Christiana. But she’d done something I never had, she’d survived. She’d fought through every hardship I’d put her through, raising our children alone while I… while I played house with someone who didn’t deserve me.
I took a deep breath, feeling the familiar sting of guilt and regret rise up in my chest. “Christiana… I know I can’t take back what I did. But I swear… I swear to you, I’ll spend the rest of my life making this up to you.”
I pressed my hand against the wall beside the door, closing my eyes as the weight of it all settled on me. For a long time, I just stood there, letting the silence fill the room. I wanted so badly to hold her, to tell her that I loved her, that I was sorry. But I knew better. This was a wound she needed to feel, needed to process. And maybe I deserved the pain of standing here alone, waiting for her to come back out.
I took a step back, swallowing hard as I forced myself to turn away. “Give her space, Alex,” I muttered under my breath, my hands clenching at my sides. I had to respect her need for distance, no matter how much it hurt.
But as I sat back on the bed, the guilt weighed heavier than ever, and I knew one thing with absolute certainty: I would do
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anything to be worthy of her again. Even if it took the rest of my life.
I sat there, staring at the faint patterns in the carpet as if they could somehow tell me what to do next. My fingers were clenched so tightly my knuckles were white, a thin thread of pain grounding me while my mind spun through every shameful memory, every careless decision that had led to this moment. How could I have been so blind? How could I have looked into Christiana’s eyes, back then, and not seen the truth?
I exhaled, my head in my hands. The memories of Bianca were a bitter pill that I couldn’t swallow. The days and nights I’d spent with her, so smugly sure that I was in control, that I knew what I wanted… I wanted to laugh at myself, but the shame was too thick, too raw. And I remembered Christian…her voice, when she was trying to hold back the tears as I divorced her.
I bit down on my lip, hard enough to taste blood. The cruelty of my own words echoed in my head, sharper than ever. I’d taken the very thing she’d yearned for, something she’d wanted so badly, and used it against her, like a weapon. I’d twisted the knife and walked away, leaving her to bleed. But the truth was, I’d been the one blinded by my arrogance, too proud to even consider that I was wrong. And now… now she was in the next room, suffering because I’d ripped open the very wound she’d struggled so hard to heal.
The silence felt like punishment, a cruel reminder that I’d lost the right to chase after her, to wrap her in my arms and say it would all be okay. Christiana deserved peace, she deserved happiness, things I’d robbed her of when I chose someone else. And now, here I was, sitting in a hotel room like a fool, hoping she’d forgive me, praying that one day, maybe, I could look into her eyes and see love instead of hurt.
The bathroom door clicked open, and I stood up instinctively, my heart pounding as Christiana stepped out, her face pale but composed. Her eyes were red–rimmed, and the sight made my chest ache in a way that felt almost unbearable.
“Christiana, I.” I began, reaching a hand out toward her, but she shook her head, her gaze steady, almost defiant.
“Alex,” she said softly, her voice barely above a whisper. “I need… some space. Just for a little while.” Her voice cracked slightly, and I could see the tremor in her hands, the faint struggle to keep her composure. “I just need time to… to process. To think.”
The words hung heavy in the air, and though I wanted to reach for her, to pull her close and beg her to let me make it right, I forced myself to nod, swallowing hard.
“Of course,” I said quietly, my voice rough. “Take all the time you need, Christiana. I’ll… I’ll be here when you’re ready.”
She gave me a small, almost broken nod, her gaze staying on me for a moment longer before she turned and walked to the far side of the room, sinking down onto the couch, her posture rigid, as if holding herself together by sheer will.
I sank back onto the edge of the bed, the distance between us feeling like a chasm, one I wasn’t sure I’d ever be able to bridge. I wanted to speak, to say something, anything that would ease the pain I could see etched into her features, but the words felt hollow, useless. I’d already said so much…too much.
The minutes ticked by in silence, each one pressing down on me like a weight, and I cursed myself under my breath again, the guilt settling in deeper, heavier. I’d been so selfish, so utterly blind to the depth of Christiana’s pain. All those years she’d spent alone, all the sacrifices she’d made for our children, while I’d been off chasing illusions, thinking I was somehow justified. And now I had the gall to dredge it all up, to ask her to relive the hurt I’d caused.
Eventually, she looked over at me, her expression unreadable, of exhaustion and something deeper, something I didn’t dare to name. When she spoke, her voice was soft, almost too quiet.
“I tried so hard to let it go,” she said, her gaze distant. “I tried to forgive, to move past it, for the kids‘ sake. But sometimes, Alex… sometimes it’s still so hard to forget.”
Her words cut through me like a blade, and I felt a raw, desperate need to make her understand how sorry I was, to let her see that I would do anything…anything…to undo the past if I could.
“Christiana…” I took a deep breath, steadying myself. “I know I can’t change what I did. I know I can’t take back the pain I caused. But please… please believe me when I say that I’m sorry. I will spend the rest of my life trying to make this right. You’re the only one who’s ever mattered, and I was a fool to forget that. A selfish, blind fool.”
Her eyes flickered, a brief flash of vulnerability breaking through her stoic exterior, and I felt a spark of hope, fragile but real. She looked away, her hands clenching in her lap as if she were trying to find the words, trying to hold herself together.
“I need to believe you, Alex,” she said finally, her voice barely a whisper. “But I need time… time to heal. Time to learn how to trust you again.”
I nodded, my heart pounding painfully in my chest. “I understand,” I said softly, forcing myself to keep my distance, to let her
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have the space she needed, even though every fiber of my being wanted to reach out to her, to hold her and tell her that I’d never let her go again.
The silence between us was thick, charged with the weight of everything we’d been through, and I knew that this was only the beginning…that if I wanted a future with Christiana, I would have to be patient, to be the man she deserved, one step at a time.
But as I watched her, saw the faint glimmer of hope in her eyes, I knew one thing for certain: I would never let her down again. No matter how long it took, no matter how much it hurt, I would prove to her that I was worthy of her forgiveness. And maybe, one day, I would see her smile at me again, the way she used to… before I’d lost her.
For now, though, I would wait. Because for Christiana, for the life we co
uld have, it was a wait I was willing to endure…no matter how long it took.
