Chapter 168
Alex's POV
The doorbell rang, sharp and insistent. Then came the pounding.
"I know you're in there!" Grace's voice carried through the door, edged with fury and something else—desperation? "Are you really planning to end this relationship?"
My heart hammered against my ribs.
"My hand is bleeding," she called out, her voice cracking. "Are you going to make me stand here all night?"
Bleeding?
I was at the door before I realized I'd moved, yanking it open to find Grace standing there, her face flushed with anger and exhaustion.
I grabbed her hands immediately, panic flooding through me as I searched for injuries. "You're hurt—why would you keep knocking if you're injured? Don't you feel the pain?"
Her hands were bandaged from last night, but I couldn't see any fresh blood. Relief washed over me.
I knew I looked like shit—unshaven, wearing nothing but a wrinkled t-shirt, my hair a mess. But Grace was here, and that was all that mattered.
"If you knew I'd get hurt," she said quietly, "you should have opened the door sooner."
I dropped her hands, stepping back. "I didn't know it was you."
"You thought it was Violet?"
"You saw her?"
"Yes, she just left from here."
"Grace, don't misunderstand. My being here has nothing to do with her. She came looking for me on her own—I don't know who told her..."
My explanation became rushed. The moment Grace mentioned Violet, it seemed to trigger my instinctive panic.
No matter what, I didn't want her to misunderstand.
"Let's not talk about you and Violet first. Let's talk about our problems first," Grace interrupted me, coldly brushing past me and striding into the room.
She looked around, then walked to the bar stool by the window and sat down.
"Nice place."
"......"
Seeing Grace's expression, I silently closed the door and followed her.
I didn't know what to say to her. I turned to the kitchen and poured a glass of warm water, gently placing it in front of her.
"It's cold outside. You're not dressed warmly enough today."
After speaking, I reached over and turned up the air conditioning temperature.
Grace didn't respond. Her hand slowly reached out and gripped the water glass in front of her.
"About Violet—please don't misunderstand," I paused, choosing my words carefully. "She and I could never work. No matter what happens."
Grace's eyes never left my face. I could feel her studying me, looking for cracks in my armor.
She's not going to make this easy.
"You should think carefully," I said finally, the words tasting like ash.
"Think about what?" Her voice was deceptively calm. "About leaving you?"
I said nothing, but my silence was answer enough.
---
Grace's POV
The silence stretched between us like a chasm. Alex stood there, looking utterly exhausted, wearing nothing but a wrinkled t-shirt, his hair disheveled. But even like this, he was still the most beautiful man I'd ever seen.
And he was asking me to leave him.
"If you've made up your mind," he said, his voice flat and lifeless as stagnant water, "I'll have Lucas draft the papers tomorrow. Whatever conditions you have, if I can meet them, I will."
I stared at him, feeling something crack inside my chest. He's really doing this. He's pushing me away.
Part of me wanted to scream. Part of me wanted to shake him until he came to his senses. But another part—the part that had been hurt too many times—whispered that maybe this was for the best. Maybe I should take the easy way out.
"Fine," I said, my voice surprisingly steady. "I want one-third of Morgan International's shares. The villa on Fifth Avenue. And..." I paused, watching his face carefully. "A proper wedding."
The first two conditions rolled off him like water. "Okay," he said without hesitation. "Fine."
But when I mentioned the wedding, something flickered in his eyes. He looked up at me, really looked, gazing into my eyes for the first time since I'd arrived.
"What's wrong, Alex? Having second thoughts about your generous offer?"
He didn't answer, but I could see his jaw tighten. His hands were clenched at his sides, knuckles white with tension.
I moved closer, until I could smell his familiar scent beneath the exhaustion and fear. Then I grabbed his shirt collar, pulling him down to my eye level.
"Or maybe you want to get rid of me so you can run back to Violet? So you can find someone who'll love you unconditionally?"
"I told you, this has nothing to do with Violet!"
"Right," I laughed bitterly, tightening my grip on his shirt. "Because she already knows what you're really like, doesn't she? She's seen your darkness and decided she could handle it. Is that what you want? Someone who won't flinch when you lose control?"
"Grace—"
"Or maybe it doesn't matter who it is. Maybe anyone will do, as long as it's not me." The words tasted like poison in my mouth. "As long as they don't make you feel like you have to pretend to be something you're not."
Something snapped in his expression. Before I could react, his hand shot out, gripping my chin. Not hard enough to hurt—he was being careful even now—but firm enough to make his point.
"Don't," he said, his voice deadly quiet. "Don't you dare suggest I'd settle for anyone else. Even if we separate, even if you walk away right now, I would never—" He stopped, his breathing ragged. "I never wanted to be with you for safety, Grace. I wanted to be with you because you make me want to be worthy of something good."
The raw honesty in his voice hit me like a physical blow. I could see the truth of his words in his eyes, could feel the tremor in his hand where it touched my cheek.
"Then why?" I whispered. "Why are you pushing me away?"