Chapter 135: The Idea of Forever
Nobody tried to preserve the date night. Honestly, that’s probably why the memory stuck.
No dramatic declarations. No sunset worthy of a movie. Just decent food. Leo picking apart every detail about the restaurant’s lighting. Elena laughing so hard at one point that Alexander lost track of everything else, just for a few seconds.
That’s the part that stood out.
Not the location.
Her.
The way she laughed when she wasn’t bone-tired.
The way she leaned back, hand to her chest, grinning at him like she couldn’t believe he’d actually said something that dumb.
Survival had been his whole thing for too long. Then, fixing things. Somewhere in all that, he forgot what quiet peace looked like peace on a small scale.
Now he kept noticing it.
Which yeah. It was risky.
Because when you finally see happiness for what it is, you start to worry about losing it.
The next morning, rain slipped over the city. The soft kind, the one that makes everything quieter, not drenched and miserable.
Alexander woke first.
He lay there, staring at the ceiling, while Elena slept beside him. Her arm tucked below the pillow. Hair all over her face. Calm, in a way she never seemed to allow herself when she was awake.
He looked at her longer than he really needed to.
A little longer than that, too.
Something steady was growing inside him. Not a sudden thing. Not fireworks. Just this certainty.
He already knew.
And that was the weird part there were no big revelations left. He’d realized he loved her a long time ago.
This was different. Deeper. Like living inside a life he wanted and feeling, actually and truly, that he never wanted anything else.
Elena shifted. Still had her eyes closed.
“You’re staring.”
He blinked. “Are you awake?”
“Unfortunately.”
“You know that without opening your eyes?”
“I know your breathing patterns.”
“That’s not terrifying or anything.”
She cracked one eye. “You think too loudly.”
He couldn’t help but smile. “You can hear thoughts now?”
“Only yours. Very dramatic.”
“That’s rude.”
She opened both eyes, squinting at him.
“What?”
“Nothing, really.”
“You’re still staring.”
“I’m appreciating.”
“That somehow sounds worse.”
He let out a quiet laugh.
Elena reached out, found his wrist, held on.
Warm. Familiar.
“What’s going on up there?” she mumbled.
He looked at her for a second.
Then lied. “Nothing.”
She narrowed her eyes right away.
“Awful answer.”
“Very convincing though.”
“No, it wasn’t.”
She was still studying him, suspicious, when Leo burst into the room like a tornado.
“WHY IS IT RAINING?”
Alexander closed his eyes, just for a moment. “Morning, Leo.”
Leo threw himself up onto the bed like it was a wrestling match.
“I had plans.”
“What kind of plans?” Elena said.
“Outdoor ones.”
“You never mentioned them.”
“Because they were private.”
Alexander nodded in mock seriousness. “Makes sense.”
Leo gestured at the window. “Now the sky has betrayed me.”
“That’s tough.”
“I know.”
Elena pressed her face into Alexander’s shoulder to hide her laugh.
And there it was again. That feeling. Not loud, not grand. Just right.
Time kept moving, the way it always does.
Days slipped into routine. Work. School. Family dinners. Victoria juggling meetings and slowly re-learning how to leave the office before midnight. Catherine healing enough to start in on her usual critique of everyone. Richard pretending he didn’t feel relief each time both his kids showed up for meetings with him.
Life settling. Not perfect. But that was fine.
Somewhere in all of it, Alexander started planning. Quietly. Carefully.
He didn’t say a word to Elena. Of course not she’d guess instantly. Honestly, he just wanted one thing to happen without someone else’s expectations tied to it.
Just once.
It began with Victoria. Of course it did.
He found her in her office late, after everyone else had left. She was scowling at numbers, looking personally wounded by spreadsheets.
“You’re still here,” she said, not bothering to look up.
“So are you.”
“I was here first.”
“Doesn’t hold up in court.”
She finally glanced at him. “What do you want?”
He closed the door behind him.
Victoria’s eyes narrowed. “Oh no.”
“Relax.”
“You closed a door of your own free will. That’s alarming.”
He sank into the chair across from her, quiet just one second too long. Victoria leaned back, wary.
“…Not emotional advice. No. Absolutely not.”
“What?”
“You’re going to ask for emotional advice.”
“That’s just rude.”
“You chose to come to me. Willingly.”
Fair.
He rubbed at his jaw. Then, “I’m thinking about proposing.”
Silence. A blink. Then another.
“You’re serious.”
“Yeah.”
“Oh my God.”
“Don’t make it weird.”
“I physically can’t help it.”
He regretted it immediately.
Victoria stared at him, then popped up from her chair. “Wait. This is important. Sit.”
“I am sitting.”
“Not emotionally.”
“That’s exhausting.”
She paced across the office.
“You’re really doing this.”
“I said I am.”
“Do Mom and Dad know?”
“No.”
“Good. Mom will cry herself unconscious.”
“Nice.”
Victoria aimed a finger at him. “You need a memorable proposal.”
“I want a sincere proposal.”
“Nope. Both.”
He sighed. “This is a mistake.”
“Wait.” She dropped into her chair. “Picture this a rooftop garden—”
“No.”
“Live music—”
“No.”
“A violinist? Appearing out of nowhere—”
“Absolutely not.”
She frowned. “You’re shutting this down fast.”
“It sounds terrifying.”
“Flash mob?”
He gawked.
“A what?”
“You know dancers, choreography, group emotion—”
“I’d rather walk into traffic.”
She broke off laughing, actually laughed, open and surprised. He blinked.
“You hate all my ideas.”
“They’re nuts.”
“They’re romantic!”
“They’re criminal.”
She laughed harder, and for a moment the office didn’t feel so much like an office. Just siblings, older now, tired sometimes, but that feeling of being on the same side again.
Victoria calmed, still grinning. “Okay, fine no flash mob.”
“Thank you.”
“But for real.” She watched him. “How do you want it to feel?”
He quieted right away. Looked down at his hands.
“Like us,” he said. Honest.
Victoria let him go on.
“She hates attention,” he said, quieter. “She can’t stand being cornered with feelings in front of people. If I make a big production, she’ll spend the whole time worrying about everyone else instead of enjoying herself.”
Victoria nodded.
“That does sound like her.”
He leaned back. “I don’t want perfect.”
She raised her eyebrows. “No?”
“No.” He turned to stare out at the skyline. “I just want real.”
Her face shifted then less teasing, softer.
“You love her,” she said gently.
He looked back at her, almost offended. “Obviously.”
Victoria smiled. “Okay, okay. Stupid question.”
A comfortable silence settled in.
Then she tilted her head.
“You know Leo’s going to blow your cover, right?”
He froze.
“…Sorry?”
“He’s got all the subtlety of a marching band.”
“That’s actually terrifying.”
“Yeah.”
He groaned, picturing it, regretting everything.
Victoria seemed delighted. “You’re doomed.”
“I know.”
“And Elena’s smarter.”
“True.”
She folded her arms. “Your odds of keeping this a surprise are low.”
Alexander looked up at the ceiling. “This family is exhausting.”
Victoria just smiled. “But you want us anyway.”
And honestly, that hit harder than he expected.
Because, yeah. All of it the chaos, interruptions, noise, mess, even the work he wanted it.
He wanted all of it. Forever.
And for the first time in years, that idea doesn’t scare him at all.