18 : Walls Falling
434 Words
The drive back to the penthouse was cloaked in silence. Amelia sat pressed against the leather seat, Alexander’s hand still wrapped firmly around hers, his grip unyielding. It was the first time he hadn’t let go.
When they arrived, he didn’t release her. Instead, he guided her inside, past the waiting staff, straight into his private study. He shut the door behind them with a quiet click.
For a moment, neither spoke. The tension between them was heavy, charged, almost unbearable.
Finally, Amelia broke the silence. “You followed me.”
His storm-gray eyes pinned her in place. “Of course I did.”
Her breath caught. “Why? You don’t trust me. You’ve made that clear.”
His jaw tightened, but his voice came out low, rough. “I don’t trust Clara. And I couldn’t risk losing you.”
The words struck her harder than any accusation ever had. I couldn’t risk losing you.
Her chest ached, confusion and longing tangling inside her. “Alexander…”
He stepped closer, so close she could feel the heat radiating from him. His voice dropped to a whisper. “Do you have any idea what it does to me, seeing you in danger? Seeing her try to destroy you?”
Amelia swallowed hard, her pulse racing. “Then why do you keep pushing me away?”
For once, he didn’t have an answer. His eyes darkened, conflicted, but he didn’t move back. Instead, his hand rose, brushing a stray strand of hair from her cheek. The touch was feather-light, hesitant, but it sent shivers down her spine.
“I told you before,” he murmured, his voice raw, “love is a weapon. And I can’t—won’t—let it destroy me again.”
Her eyes burned, but she refused to look away. “Then let it heal you instead.”
The air between them thickened, electric. His hand lingered against her cheek, his thumb brushing softly along her skin. For a moment, it seemed he might give in, might finally surrender to the pull between them.
But at the last second, he stepped back, breaking the contact. His voice was hoarse when he spoke. “Go to bed, Amelia.”
Her heart twisted, but she lifted her chin, refusing to show the ache inside her. “One day, Alexander, you won’t be able to run from this. From us.”
She left the study, her footsteps echoing through the hall. Behind her, Alexander stood frozen, his fists clenched, his breath ragged—as though he had just fought the hardest battle of his life.
- Writer
