—Mabel—
Alec stood on his terrace in a black button-down shirt, sleeves rolled up, collar slightly wrinkled—like he'd been pacing.
Even his hair was disheveled and his eyes shadowed.
My heart pounded as I climbed the short stairs and joined him on the terrace. “Good evening,” I greeted.
“Hi,” he mumbled. “What are you doing here?”
I drew a deep breath. “Please, we need to talk.”
“About what? About the truth you kept from me the past six years?”
“At least hear me out before you decide to condemn me.”
This time around, he met my gaze and a faint smirk touched his lips. He folded his arms on his chest and nodded.
“I'm listening.”
Right here?
Wasn't he going to usher me inside or at least offer me a seat on his terrace?
Well, at least I was grateful I had his attention.
“Six years
