Page 76

The question didn’t carry judgment, only curiosity.

“Having decisions made for me,” I said quietly. “Especially the ones that change my life.” I turned my wineglass slowly between my hands.

“I don’t need to make every decision. Most of the time, I’d probably agree with the decision.” I smiled faintly. “I may even ask them to decide.”

My smile faded. “But I need to know. I need to be part of the conversation. I need someone to trust me enough to tell me the truth, even when it’s difficult. Especially when it’s difficult.”

His fingers tightened around the stem of his glass.

I looked toward the fire. “My marriage ended because my husband stopped asking me. He accepted a position in Boston. He bought a house. Arranged the move. Planned our entire future. I didn’t know any of it until a few weeks before we were scheduled to leave. It wasn’t that he wanted those things,” I said. “It was that he never thought to ask whether I wanted them too. I need the person I love to believe my voice belongs in the choices that shape my life. Otherwise,” I said softly, “you wake up one day and realize you’re living someone else’s future.”

For the briefest moment, something flickered across Alexander’s face before disappearing again. He lowered his eyes before meeting mine. “I understand.”

I studied him. “And you? What makes you unhappy?”

The fire burned low behind us, filling the silence before he began speaking. “I believed,” he said at last, “that if two people shared the same values, everything else could be worked through.”

He spoke without bitterness, his voice carefully controlled. “I was engaged. I intended to spend the rest of my life with her. I believed we wanted the same future. We wanted Blackwood Hall to succeed. We wanted to build something that would outlive both of us. I eventually realized we wanted the same destination for very different reasons. And with very different approaches.”

“What happened?”

“She made a choice.” His voice remained even, but there was a weight beneath it that hadn’t been there before. “It was a choice I couldn’t live with.”

I waited, but he didn’t continue. “You don’t have to tell me tonight,” I said.

His eyes lifted to mine. “Thank you.”

To my own surprise, I found that I didn’t need any more explanation from him. I could wait until he was ready to give me more details.

“I’m grateful for it,” he said, breaking the silence. “If it hadn’t happened, I wouldn’t be sitting here.”

There was no hesitation in the way he said it. No sense that he wished things had ended differently. I held his gaze and thought about a rainy Tuesday morning and an email I almost deleted.

“I’m grateful too,” I whispered.

We stayed on the couch a little longer until he led me onto the terrace.

The city stretched beneath us, thousands of windows glowing against the darkness. A cool breeze drifted between the buildings, carrying just enough of the autumn cold to make me grateful for the heat still lingering from Alexander’s penthouse. We stood together, watching the city, comfortable in the silence between us. When I looked at him, he was watching me instead of the skyline. The look on his face made the rest of the world disappear.

My fingers found his where they rested on the stone railing. Without hesitation, he turned his hand beneath mine, our fingers fitting together in a way that felt familiar, as though we had spent evenings like this many times before.

He turned toward me. In the soft light, I didn’t see the Chairman of Blackwood Hall. Up here, there were no board meetings. No critical decisions waiting to be made. There was only Alexander.

I hadn’t been discovering his apartment. I had been discovering him.

“You have been,” he said, pausing in the careful way he did whenever the exact words mattered, “the most unexpected thing that has happened to me in ten years.”

He watched me for a heartbeat before he closed the distance between us. One hand settled gently at my waist. The other rose to my face, his fingertips brushing lightly beneath my jaw before coming to rest against my cheek.

“Emilia…” He barely spoke my name. I leaned into his touch. He gave a small, almost disbelieving smile and drew me even closer until there was scarcely any space left between us. Then he kissed me, slowly and gently. A rush of warmth went through my body as I wrapped my arms around his neck. When we parted, he rested his forehead lightly against mine and closed his eyes.

When he finally spoke, his voice was barely above the wind. “Will you stay tonight?”

“Alexander…”

He smiled. He already understood the question I hadn’t asked. “I don’t mean because I expect anything.” His thumb brushed across my cheek. “I’ve waited a very long time to meet you.”

My heart skipped a beat.