Part 52
(Alex's POV)
He looked at her like someone waking up from a bad dream.
That tiny flicker of recognition in his eyes—
that was enough.
She wanted to speak, to explain everything she had rehearsed in the long drives and longer nights, but words jammed behind her teeth.
All she could manage was a smile that trembled at the corners.
"You don't have to run anymore," she said.
And she meant it.
Every syllable.
But then she saw her—
the woman standing behind Adrian.
Leah.
Barefoot, clutching a blanket, face drained of color.
Something sharp twisted in Alex's chest.
A small, sour sting of jealousy—no, betrayal.
Leah moved closer to him, protective, like she had the right.
Alex's gaze flicked to Adrian's shoulder, where Leah's hand rested.
That single touch felt like a blade pressed against her ribs.
You don't know what he's been through, Alex thought.
You weren't there in the dark when he couldn't sleep. I was.
Rain kept dripping from her hair onto the floor.
The sound marked each heartbeat she couldn't slow down.
She stepped further inside before he could tell her not to.
The air changed—tightened.
She felt his fear wash over her, thick and invisible, but she kept moving, soft, slow, deliberate.
"You look tired," she whispered.
"I can fix that. I can make it all quiet again."
He flinched at her voice.
Leah's hand tightened on his arm.
And Alex—
Alex smiled.
It wasn't kind.
It wasn't cruel.
It was certain.
Because now she understood: Leah was the obstacle, not the comfort.
If she could remove Leah—show Adrian what she really was—then he would see clearly again.
He would remember who had stayed, who had protected him.
I'm not losing you again, she thought.
Not to her. Not to anyone.