Chapter 52 Grateful
After finalizing things with my parents, I was about to leave, considering this an unwilling severance of ties with my own blood for my wife’s dignity.
Draven, distressed by the situation, rushed to my side, “Are you sure about it, Vince?”
“Hundred percent.” My cold resonance came, opening the door for Alyssa who sat quietly, no longer having the strength to speak.
I had one question for him, “Have you not done the same if it was Cynthia?”
That made Draven smile feebly. He nodded, dismay vanishing gradually, pulling me into a side hug for assurance.
“Yes. I have and I am happy you stood with the righteous this time.” The addition of ‘this time’ pierced me.
Before, all I did was to watch my mother give up on my sister, I saw her suffering too. But, today, I spoke against her, I stood against the wrong.
That… was relieving.
“That is all I could do, Draven.” Murmuring quietly, I pulled back, the flashbacks of the past sting returning.
“I am proud that you did, my brother.” Draven noticed and continued to smile, waving us goodbye, “Good luck, you guys.”
We were returning, the drive was silent, hefty, I sensed Alyssa twitching, her breaths becoming raspy, gaze everywhere but me.
What’s the hesitation when I had supported her? When I was by her side?
I noticed but didn’t speak up yet.
I waited for us to reach home first before confronting her.
We walked into the bedroom with a crushing silence, testing my patience at what could be after I tried my best to eradicate all troubles.
The lights were dimmed, the air thick, her lowered gaze as her trembling silhouette on the edge of the bed. My gaze softened.
“Alyssa…”
“Hmm?”
“Are you alright?”
She shook her head in denial, her voice barely a whisper, “No, I am not.”
“Why not? What happened? Are you still angry with me?” I instantly asked, approaching her to hold her shoulders, standing beside her worriedly.
“No, that’s not it. I just…” She paused, twirling her fingers around her dress distressfully. My gaze narrowed, giving her shoulder a soft squeeze for assurance.
“What is it?”
“I… think when did I become so lucky? What did I do to deserve a partner like you, Vince?”
She looked up, her face pale and etched with agony accompanied by tears and a shaky smile. Her hand rested over mine, eyes narrowing.
“Why?” she choked out, the word barely escaping her throat.
“Why would you give up everything for a ‘stain’ like me? They are right, Vince. I am ruining you. I’m the crack in your perfect world.”
The self-loathing in her voice cut deeper than any insult my mother had hurled, my chest constricted when she found herself so low.
Sinking onto the bed as well, I pulled her into my lap. My hands gently lay on her side, snuggling to her neck with a deep, hot breath.
“Is that what you consider yourself, Alyssa? A stain?” I asked.
My voice was laced with pain so she could know I was hurt to hear her perspective.
“Mhm.” She sniffled, nodding in agreement as she tried to pull away, but I held her firmly, sternness creeping on my features.
“Look at me,” I commanded softly. When she finally lifted her tear-blurred eyes, I leaned in until our foreheads touched.
“You aren’t ruining me, Alyssa. You are saving me.”
“Vince, your legacy- your parents-”
“Are meaningless if they are empty,” I interrupted, my thumb tracing the line of her jaw, helping her to relax.
“You are the solace I seek, the path I must choose for my own selfish redemption. If the world thinks you're a stain, then the world is blind.”
I tucked a stray hair behind her ear, my voice dropping to a raw whisper, pouring all my affection into my resonance in order to convince her.
“Neither you nor Lucia were at fault for… falling in love. You did nothing wrong. They cannot punish you for choosing your love.”
She whimpered, her hands holding my collar desperately, “But they judge me for marrying you.”
“Let them. Will it affect me? No.” I gave her an unwavering, sincere smile.
“But, it’s hard to ignore, Vince.”
Before she could shatter and liberate another sobbing, or throw herself lower in her eyes, I cupped her face with my both hands.
“Hey, listen, listen, You don’t realize your worth, Alyssa.” I murmured, trying my best to convince her.
“You are… everything now. My home isn't this house. It’s wherever you are.”
That was the breaking point. These words were enough to flood the tears she held back, to feel blessed as her hands encased me.
The dam burst, and she collapsed against my chest, refusing to let me go. I rubbed her back to empty her weight and prepare herself for our future together.
She cried then, loud, ugly, cathartic sobs that shook her entire frame. Surely, they pierced my heart but she needed the redemption too.
They were the sounds of months of fear, heartbreak, and silence finally being bled out.
“Thank you, Vince, thank you so much for entering my life,” Shee cried, her nail digging into my skin, snuggling with her eyes shut and soaking my skin with her salty tears.
“I don’t know what would have happened to me without you. Thank you for saving me,” She cried, kissing my neck, her hands declined to release, that if they did, she might scatter.
She knew she would.
“I saved myself, I couldn’t bear another soul dying with an unsuccessful love.” I whispered, telling her the truth.
“I don’t care. You saved me and that is a fact.”
“Hmm, hmm,”
I didn't tell her to stop. I just held her, my chin resting on the top of her head, absorbing her grief into my own skin, continuing the soft movement.
For the first time in my life, I wasn't a billionaire, a son, or a cold CEO.
I was just a man holding his world in his arms, and I would burn the rest of it to the ground before I let her go.
“It’s alright. I am here for you…”
“I know you are…”
I kept holding her, reassuring her continuously until she decided to finally drift into a fitful sleep. I laid her down on the bed and stayed beside her for the time being.
Her head under my arm, clutching my shirt as my fingers were caressing her cheek, staring at her intensely, overflowing with words I was impotent to confess.
Just as I was submerged in the pool of my thoughts, my phone vibrated on the nightstand. I reached for it, expecting another threat from my father.
It was an unknown number. I answered, my voice a raspy shadow, bewildered, “Who is this?”
“You have burned the bridges, isolated the girl, and made yourself her only savior.”
A slow, chilling chuckle came through the line. The fatality of this resonance sent a shiver down my spine, dripping with a terrifying mix of admiration and malice, enunciating what I buried deep into my heart.
“What a flawless plan you have created, Vince Lysander,”