Page 132 of The Substitute Fiancée

They shook me, terrified me, even. I had never felt anything so strong, so real, for anyone.

And I got scared. Scared of not being enough. Scared of losing you. And instead of opening up to you, I let my jealousy explode and my anger take control. I destroyed with my own hands what mattered most to me.”

My grip tightens around the pen. My heart aches.

“I can’t find the words to express how sorry I am. I can’t change the past, but I’m working on myself so it never happens again. I understand better now where my reactions come from, and I’m learning to communicate instead of fleeing or attacking.

I want to change. Not only for you, but above all for myself.

I’m forcing myself to believe that something positive came out of our breakup. Because if I manage to become a better version of myself, then maybe none of this will have been in vain.

If one day you give me another chance, I’ll do everything to deserve it.

To deserve you, and to make you happy.

Yours,

Alexander.”

I fold the letter carefully. This one, too, I won’t send.

Sam doesn’t need written apologies. She needs to see the change.

Words are easy. Actions are harder.

The road ahead is long, I know that. I only hope that when I’m finally ready, Sam won’t have completely turned the page.

44. The SMS

Samantha

Since Alexander’s text asking me not to block him, I’ve been receiving one message a day.

Simple. Never intrusive. Just to let me know he’s thinking of me.

Alexander: At lunchtime today, I saw a mother and her little boy walking down the street. The child tripped and fell. The mother stepped forward to help him, then, seeing that he wasn’t badly hurt, she stopped herself and simply said, ‘You’re okay.’ He got back up without making a fuss, and they went on their way. That moment really moved me.

The next day, as I paint by the window watching the snow fall, my phone vibrates.

Alexander: I left my office for lunch. I’m learning to let go. I’m writing to you from Montmartre. I wish so much that I were watching the snow fall with you.

I don’t reply to any of the messages.

I don’t know what to think.

Will he be able to keep this up in the long run? Can people really change?

My brush glides over the paper, creating gradients of gray and blue.

Yes, people can change.

With the right help. With the support of the right people.

I changed, thanks to Emelyne and Mara.

They helped me detach myself from my toxic family, to build a family of the heart. Today, I no longer seek my parents’ validation. Their attitude still hurts, of course, but with time, I’ll learn not to let it affect me anymore.

Suddenly, my phone rings.