Chapter 28 Time Flies

Chapter 28 Time Flies
London,eighteen months after the night Alex closed the penthouse door.

Alexander Maxwell no longer walked into a room. He entered it the way winter enters a city. Every morning, the private lift opened into the 47th-floor executive suite. The night security guard nodded silently as Alex strode past in his charcoal overcoat.

“Morning, sir,” the guard said quietly, Alex didn’t reply. He never did anymore.

He stepped into his monastic office, white walls and black furniture, and dropped into the chair behind his desk.

“Another day,” he muttered under his breath, voice cold and flat.

The only personal items remained locked in the bottom drawer. He opened it slowly, staring at the plastic-covered scarlet dress, the velvet box with the diamond stud, and the growing stack of academic papers by S.E. Vale.

He pulled out the latest paper and spread it across the desk.

“Still carving me up from a distance, aren’t you, Sofia?” he whispered, running a red pen across a line.

“Every footnote feels like a knife.”

He worked through the morning in silence until his assistant, Chen, entered with coffee.

“You have back-to-back meetings until nine tonight,” she said carefully.

“And… you look exhausted, sir.”

Alex didn’t look up. “I don’t pay you for opinions, Chen.”

“You’re allowed to be human sometimes.” She hesitated.

He finally met her eyes, expression icy. “Humanity is a liability. Get out.”

By noon he was running the Thames path, rain soaking his clothes, breath coming in sharp bursts.

“Faster, until her laugh stops echoing in my head” he growled to himself, pushing harder.

He ran ten miles without stopping, legs burning, lungs screaming. Later, in the private gym, he pounded the heavy bag until his knuckles split open.

“Why did I let you go?” he snarled between punches, voice raw.

“Why the fuck was I so scared?” Blood smeared the bag. He didn’t stop.

That evening, he sat alone at the penthouse window, city lights glittering far below. He opened the velvet box and stared at the diamond stud.

“I should throw you into the river, but I can’t. I still can’t” he said quietly.

He closed the box with a snap. Some nights he watched the old security footage on mute, the moment she placed the stud on his bread plate and walked away in that red dress.

“There,” he whispered, pausing the video.

“That was the second I lost everything. The exact second.”

Sleep came hard that night. When he woke, her name was on his lips again.

“Sofia…” he breathed into the darkness, voice cracking.

“What have I done?”

He sat up, chest tight, and stared at the ceiling.

“I was wrong,” he said aloud.

“I was so fucking wrong.”

The words echoed in the empty room. No one answered. He rose and walked to the balcony, letting the cold night air bite his skin.

“I turned you into a ghost because I was too much of a coward to keep you,” he confessed to the empty sky.

“And now I live in the grave I dug for both of us.”

Alex Maxwell kept himself busy every single day. Because the alternative was remembering what it felt like to be alive in her arms.  And he no longer believed he deserved even the memory.



Mallorca, Six Months After the Wedding

Sofia stood on the terrace of their cliffside villa, arms wrapped tightly around herself as the evening breeze tugged at her sundress. The sea stretched out below, beautiful and endless, but tonight it felt like a cage.

Justin stepped behind her and slid his arms around her waist, pressing a kiss to her shoulder.

“You’ve been quiet all day, baby. Everything okay?” he murmured, voice warm and gentle.

Sofia forced a smile she didn’t feel.

“I’m fine, just tired,” she said softly.

Justin turned her around to face him, searching her eyes with that patient, loving look that used to make her melt. Now it only made her chest feel tighter.

“You know you can talk to me, right? We’re married, no secrets babe,” he said, brushing a strand of hair from her face.

No secrets, the words landed like stones in her stomach. She thought of that stormy wedding night. Of Alex on his knees. Of his mouth between her thighs. Of the way he had fucked her like a man possessed, like she was the last breath he would ever take.

She hadn’t told Justin And every day since, the secret had grown heavier.

“I know, I’m just… adjusting. That’s all.” she whispered, leaning into his chest.

Justin kissed the top of her head, holding her closer.

“I love you, Sofia. More than anything.”

“I love you too,” she replied automatically.

The words felt hollow.Later that night, they made love. Justin was gentle, as always. He kissed her slowly, touched her with reverence, whispered sweet things against her skin as he moved inside her.

“You feel so good, so perfect, my wife.”” he groaned, hips rolling steadily.

Sofia closed her eyes and moaned softly, but her mind was somewhere else. She remembered Alex’s brutal thrusts. The way he had pinned her down. The raw, desperate sounds he made when he came inside her. The way he had looked at her like she was both salvation and damnation.

Justin’s pace quickened, his breathing growing ragged.

“Come for me, baby,” he whispered, thumb finding her clit. She faked it.

Her body tensed, she let out a convincing cry, clenching around him. Justin followed soon after, burying his face in her neck as he finished. Afterwards, he pulled her into his arms, content and sated.

“That was amazing, I love waking up next to you every day,” he murmured, already drifting off.

Sofia stared at the ceiling, wide awake.

“I love you too,” she whispered again into the darkness, but the words tasted like ash.

She slipped out of bed and walked to the balcony, the cool night air raising goosebumps on her naked skin. She touched the spot on her neck where Alex had bitten her that night. The mark had long faded, but she could still feel it.

Tears slipped down her cheeks.

“What’s wrong with me? I have everything I wanted. A good man. A peaceful life. Why am I so unhappy?” she whispered to the sea.