ALEC & SUSAN

Bewween Love and Legacy

I ran until my feet hurt and burned, each step a sharp reminder of how far I’d come. In the distance, a small park flickered through my blurred vision, and I pushed myself into a fast, limping walk until I reached the safety of the back corner.

I collapsed onto a bench, fumbling to pull off my shoes. My breath ragged, painful gasps, my throat felt like it was filled with sand, and hot tears tracked through the dirt on my face.

I was terrified—lost in a place I didn’t recognize with no idea how to get home. After a few minutes of trying to steady my shaking hands, I called Ava. I could barely get the words out between hiccups and jagged sobs. She stayed calm, her voice a steady anchor.

“Where are you?” she asked.

“A park,” I managed to choke out.

“No—exactly where? What state are you in?”

I swallowed hard, trying to remember. “I think……I think I heard him say Connecticut.”

“Okay, listen to me,” Ava said, her tone turning firm. “Google the nearest train station right now.

Get an Uber to take you there. As soon as you reach the station, call me. Do you hear me? Just get to the station.”

In between my hiccups, I managed to say, "okay."

The moment we hung up, leaving only the hum of the city in my ear. I didn't hesitate; Ava’s voice was still ringing in my head, a rigid set of instructions I couldn't afford to break.

I pulled in a sharp, rattling breath, trying to force the adrenaline into some kind of coherent action, then pushed my thumb into the screen to search the maps. A map blossomed, the blue dot—me—miles from the green icon of the terminal. I watched the numbers tick over as I entered the address, settling on a route that looked like a long, dark stretch of city streets and late-night shortcuts.

Thirty-five minutes if I ran, A lifetime in a moment like this, but my feet still hurt.

I stood on the curb, eyes locked on the glowing map on my phone as a lump climbed into my throat. I squeezed my lids shut, but the warmth escaped anyway, carving hot, salt-streaked paths down my cheeks. I took a jagged breath, pressing my palms into my eyes until I saw stars, whispering a fierce, silent command to pull it together. By the time the black SUV pulled to the shoulder ten minutes later, I had wiped my face raw. I forced a steady hand to pull the door handle and slipped into the cool, leather-scented shadows of the back seat.

The silence in the car was stifling, broken only by the aggressive, rhythmic vibration of my phone against the leg. I didn’t need to look to know it was Alec; the relentless buzzing had become a physical weight in my chest. Each missed call and incoming text was a demand, turning the twenty-minute drive into an hour-long agony. I kept my gaze locked on the empty road ahead, focusing on the rhythmic swaying of a pine tree, willfully ignoring the glowing screen until the vibration finally stopped, leaving me alone with my pounding heart.

I huddled over, arms wrapping tightly around my ribs as if to hold myself together. My stomach roiled, a turbulent mix of acidity and panic, while a heavy, dead weight settled in my chest. Every attempt to breathe only pushed against the hard, stubborn knot lodged in my throat, turning every swallow into a painful struggle.

Everything felt too bright, too loud, and entirely wrong. The only thing that made sense was locking my door and curling into a ball until the world felt safe again. Yet, those scathing words kept cutting through the quiet, a relentless tape playing behind my eyes. I shook my head, fighting back the tears, sickened by the realization that such raw, careless contempt still had a place in the world.

The driver’s eyes kept darting towards the rear view mirror, tracking me with a mixture of suspicion and concern, until he finally broke the silence. "Are you okay, miss?" he asked, his voice barely rising above the low hum of the air conditioning. I offered a stiff nod, keeping my gaze locked firmly on the passing streetlights, refusing to meet his eyes in the mirror.

As the car shuddered to a halt outside Greenwich Station, my heart hammered against my ribs like a trapped bird. I didn't wait for a formal goodbye, bursting from the passenger seat and sprinting toward the station entrance, the bustling crowd blurring around me.

My breath hitched as I approached the counter, the subway noise fading into a dull roar in my ears. I gripped my phone knuckles white, forcing my trembling hands to rest on the ledge while I stammered through the question, desperate for the number five train to Brooklyn.

"Ride this train until the very end—Grand Central Station," he said, gesturing toward the subway map with a worn finger. "Follow the signs downstairs for the 4 or 6, make sure it’s the downtown Lexington Avenue line. Take it to Brooklyn Bridge—City Hall. If you end up on the local, just hop off at Union Square and grab the green number five. It’s an easy switch

I thanked him and bought my ticket and boarded the train.

The phone hadn't even finished its first chime before Ava’s voice exploded through the receiver.

"Did you make it? Where are you?" The words tumbled over one another, breathless and sharp.

I leaned my forehead against the cool, vibrating glass of the Metro-North window, looking out at the platform of Greenwich Station as the train gave a heavy, metallic groan. "I’m in my seat," I murmured into the phone. "The Metro-North is departing in thirty minutes. I’m safe for now," keeping my tone low to avoid the gaze of the other passengers.

"Okay, great." she let out a breath.

The words caught in my throat, thick and heavy. "Ava... thank you."

"For what?" she asked, her voice a soft anchor in the quiet.

"For being there. I don't even want to think about where I'd be if you hadn't picked up the phone, if you hadn't—" My voice fractured. The heat returned to my eyes, blurring the world again as a fresh wave of tears spilled over.

"Hey," Ava murmured, her voice steady and warm. "It’s okay. I’m not going anywhere. I’ll always be here." She paused, "Look, instead of going back to an empty room... why don’t you just come over to my place?"

"Yes," I blurted out, the word escaping before she could even finish.

"Good, I will be waiting. It’s going to be alright. I promise," she said softly.

"I know," Ava murmured, her voice tight, echoing the sharp ache that seemed to vibrate in the heart. "Every relationship has its rough patches.

I forced a breath, lifting my chin with a firm, practiced resolve. "I’ll call you the second I get to Grand Central, okay?"

"Okay, take care. See you soon.

The call disconnected with a sharp click, but my phone immediately continued to vibrate in my hand, a frantic, buzzing neon sign of Alec’s relentless pursuit. I stared at the screen, my chest tightening, and let it ring. There was no way I could voice the words tangled in my throat, not when the memory of his family’s casual, cutting prejudice still hung in the air between us like thick smoke.

A chasm had opened between Alec and me, one that no apology or plea could ever hope to bridge. The venom his mother had poured into my ears still burned, drowning out any hope of reconciliation. A toxic melody that rendered any future with Alec impossible. I let my head fall back against the cold, rattling window, hot, silent, salt-heavy tears flow, until exhaustion dragged me into a dark slumber. I don't know how long I was out, the sharp, unexpected tap on my shoulder ripped me back to reality, waking me to the blurry face of a conductor demanding a ticket.

After the conductor clipped my ticket and tucked a card into the seat-back pocket, he vanished into the train's rhythmic clatter, leaving me to the long, uneventful stretch toward the end of the line. The steady vibration of the tracks sang a lulling, hypnotic tune, and I drifted off, sinking into a heavy, uninterrupted slumber. I awoke to the shuffling of feet and a distorted, echoing announcement over the loudspeaker, signaling that the journey had finally reached its end.

The memory of the walk from the train station to Ava’s apartment vanished into a haze of static and streetlights, my legs moving on autopilot while my mind stayed fractured. When the elevator hissed open, she was already there—leaning on the door-frame just waiting for me.

The moment our eyes met, the last of my composure splintered. I lunged into her, burying my face in her shoulder as a jagged sob finally broke free. Ava didn't say a word; she simply anchored me, her arms a tight, steady heat against my shaking frame. She guided us inside with a rhythmic retreat, toeing the door shut until the click of the lock finally shut out the rest of the world.

Ava guided me to the sofa, a silent anchor in the storm of my own making. I don't know how long I was under, lost in the wet heat of my tears, constant, soaking into the fabric of my dress for what felt like hours, but when they finally ran dry and my heavy eyelids lifted, slowly, the world came back into focus. I was still held fast. Soft breathing, the faint smell of jasmine, and the weight of someone holding me. Ava hadn't moved, she had fallen asleep, her chin resting on my shoulder, arms wrapped securely around me. A pang of sharp guilt hit my chest—I’d kept her awake, turning her comfortable bed for a hard sofa, just because I was too broken to be alone.

A gentle tap to her shoulder had her blinking sleepily. Her eyelids fluttered, bringing her slow, disoriented gaze to mine. I gave her shoulder one last, soft poke.

"Go on," I whispered, gesturing toward the bedroom,

"I’ll be fine right here—this couch is already calling my name." A hesitant, questioning look crossed her face, a silent,

"Are you sure?" she murmured, her voice barley audible.

I simply closed my eyes and offered a smile, turning my head to look away, letting her know the decision was final.

Breakfast was laid out, but the food looked sickening. I pushed the plate away, my throat closing up tight. Instead of eating, I just stared down at the table, taking in a breath that felt shallow and cold. My chest felt tight, like a heavy stone was settling in my ribs, making it impossible to swallow the dry, bitter taste in my mouth.

"You have to talk to Alec," Ava said.

My head snapped up. I stared at her, hard. "I think you better repeat that," I said, sharper than I intended, "because I know I didn't just hear you correctly."

“Susan, please.” Ava reached out, her voice dropping to a low, urgent murmur that cut through the sharp ringing in the air. “If Alec had even the slightest inkling that his mother would weaponize her words like that—if he’d known she was waiting to unravel you—he never would have never let you step foot over that threshold. He loves you; it’s written all over his face every time he looks at you. You need to hear him out.

I exhaled slowly, my palm tracing the tension in my forehead. She was right. The silence in the room was suffocating, so I turned to the coffee table and picked up my phone. Alec’s terrified, disjointed voice notes spilling out of the speaker. Panic, frightened, urgent, desperate. These were the words to describe it. Then came the texts, one after another, each more frantic until the last one stopped my heart entirely: my mom wants to apologize. A cold gasp escaped me, leaving the room suddenly very quiet.

I turned to Ava, my jaw hanging slack, mirroring the disbelief frozen on her face. The silence stretched, heavy and suffocating, until I finally managed to pry my voice from my throat.

"What do I do, Ava?" Her gaze was calm, almost pleading with me to be brave.

"You need to hear her out, apologize or not. It’s the only way you’re ever going to move past this."

"Once again, she was right." I chewed on my lip, the logic settling in, painful but necessary. Minutes later, my shaky fingers tapped out a message to Alec, agreeing to face them both that afternoon.

Alec’s name flashed on the screen before I could even unlock my phone. He didn't bother with pleasantries. The moment I picked up, I heard the frantic pacing.

"I've been worried sick," he rushed out, his voice cracking slightly. "I haven't slept, thinking you were—where are you?"

"I'm okay, I promise. I'm with Ava."

Then a shaky sigh of relief. "Thank god. Listen, I'm so, so sorry for what happened. About mom." A pause. "Can you meet me at my restaurant? Please?"

"What time works for you?" I asked, a spark of excitement catching my voice.

"One o’clock," he murmured.

"That sounds perfect," I whispered.

"After, we can spend the rest of the afternoon together, if that's okay with you?"

A slow smile spread across my face as I added, "I'm looking forward to spending the whole afternoon with you."

"Susan, I love you so much."

"I love you too, Alec.

I arrived at the restaurant just as the doors opened, yet Alec was already there, his face illuminated by a grin that stretched from ear to ear the moment our eyes locked. My heart skipped a beat, my stomach doing flips. He abandoned his table, closing the distance between us in a few hurried strides before wrapping me in an embrace so tight I could barely breathe. Before I could catch my breath, his hand was firm around mine, leading me away from the crowded dining room and into the quiet solitude of his office. The second the door clicked shut, the world narrowed to just us, my back already pressed against the cold wood, his lips finding mine with a desperate, hungry urgency that left no room for breath.

Time seemed to stall, minutes, maybe hours, passed before his lips moved from mine. The world narrowing down to the warmth of his mouth on mine. When he finally broke the kiss, a sharp, ragged gasp left my lungs, my knees trembling in the sudden space between us. Breaking away felt like coming up for air, leaving me breathless and dizzy. He lingered, trailing wet, burning kisses along my jawline, chin and then down to the pulsing hollow of my throat. His breath was hot against my skin, his voice a low, husky vibration that echoed in my chest.

"I missed you," he murmured, the words barely a whisper but enough to ruin me.

I was entirely undone, my breath hitched, panting, coming in sharp, shallow ragged sounds as he pinned both my hands above my head, anchoring me in place. The air between us was electric, and the insistent pressure of his arousal against my stomach made my head swim. Before I could catch my breath, he lifted me, without breaking our kiss, he swept me off my feet, moving with sudden, purposeful strength, walking me toward the desk. He set me down with a swift motion, his body immediately aligning with my center. With a quiet gasp, I instinctively locked my legs around his waist, trapping him there and pulling him deeper into my heat.

A sharp, relentless rapping against the wood shattered the silence, ripping me from a hazy, breathless daze. His forehead remained pressed against mine, his eyes tightly closed, savoring the final, fleeting second of closeness. "Alec, your mother is here," a muffled voice chimed, the words cutting through the tension like glass. I froze, my heart stumbling, before pushing against his chest to break the lock of our arms. Stumbling off the desk, I frantically smoothed my skirts and ran a trembling hand over my hair, fighting to vanish all evidence from the last ten minutes before the door could open.

“Okay,” Alec rasped, the word catching in his throat still tight with heat.

He stole one lingering, desperate kiss before finally forcing himself back. A frustrated huff escaped him as he tugged at the hem of his shirt, pointedly adjusting the stiff denim of his jeans to mask the obvious ache he wasn’t quite finished with.

“Give me a minute,” he managed, his voice dropping into a low, gravelly hum that vibrated in the small space between us.

“Just… a few minutes.”I gave him a knowing smirk and retreated toward the door, leaning against the frame to give him the breathing room he clearly needed. When he finally joined me, the frantic energy had settled into a steady, glowing warmth. He reached out, his fingers sliding firmly between mine, and together we stepped out of the quiet office to face his mother.

The heavy office door clicked shut behind us, and there she was seated at a scheduled corner table marked by a small, silver "Reserved" sign. After they shared a brief hug, we took our seats. A heavy silence settled between us, and I found myself unable to lift my gaze, my eyes locked on the nervous drumming of my fingers twisting restlessly in my lap. A cold, hard lump had taken up residence in my throat, making even a simple swallow feel impossible.

Mrs. Beck finally broke the silence, her voice taut.

"Alec, give us a minute."

"No," he snapped, looking directly at her. "I need to make sure what happened yesterday doesn't repeat itself."

Her hand settled over his, a firm, grounding weight. She locked eyes with him, holding his gaze to force the intensity down.

"I promised my son I would make it right," she said quietly.

Alec's gaze shifted to me, his jaw softening only slightly. I gave him a small, sharp nod of compliance.

Alec’s lips lingered for a second on mine, a lingering, almost performative kiss, before he pulled away, straightening his blazer and walking away from the table, giving me one last look. The sudden absence of his warmth left me exposed, shrinking under the heavy, icy gaze of Mrs. Beck. She didn't look away, her gaze pinning me to the chair.

"I will never apologize to a poor immigrant like you," she spat, her voice dropping to a low, venomous whisper, "Nobody likes you."

My heart hammered against my ribs, a chaotic rhythm, while a cold, heavy knot formed in my stomach, making it hard to breathe. The air around us felt thin and suffocating.

"The way you look at him—it’s not with affection, but with calculation. You’re treating my son like a high-limit credit card, waiting for the swipe, oblivious to his heart. It’s a sad, shallow performance, and frankly, you are far beneath him.

"What do you want from me, Mrs. Beck?"

“My son has a legacy to uphold, a certain… standards to maintain. I’m sure you understand that he needs someone who fits into that world, not someone who is beneath him. I had you investigated," she continued, her hands gripping her handbag with a calmness that scared me more than shouting. "You are here illegally.

She gripped the edge of the table, her knuckles turned white, her eyes narrowed into a sharp, unforgiving line. She looked around the restaurant, making sure no one was looking; she only cared about getting her message across. “Get out," she whispered, the threat hanging heavy in the air. ”Leave my son, and never come back."

I opened my mouth, a frantic plea rising in my throat, but the sheer coldness in her eyes strangled the words. My breath hitched, and I just stared.

"I promise, Mrs. Beck," I finally managed to squeeze out, my voice trembling and barely audible, "When I walk out of this restaurant, I will not look back. It is over between Alec and me."

She offered a tight, cruel smile, leaning in. "Good. Because if you do not leave my son immediately, I will have you deported."