Chapter 46 46
The kitchen was quiet except for the low hum of the dishwasher and the occasional clink of dishes as Stefan rinsed the last plate. He leaned against the counter, sleeves rolled up, a dishtowel slung over his shoulder, and watched Alana finish stuffing the rest of the food into the refrigerator.
The scent of soap and warm garlic still lingered in the air from dinner — roasted chicken, mashed potatoes, and Juliana’s half-eaten food now abandoned in her chair.
Juliana was asleep, and it was just the two of them now — the time of evening that used to feel comfortable, full of small talk and easy laughter. Lately, though, it felt fragile.
“Leave the rest,” Stefan said finally, breaking the silence. “I’ll finish up.”
Alana shook her head. “It’s fine. I’m almost done.”
He watched her — the way she moved, precise and efficient, her soft hair falling forward when she leaned. She’d tied it loosely tonight, and a small damp strand clung to her neck. It took everything in him not to reach out and brush it away.
When she placed the last bowl in the fridge, he said quietly, “Stay for a bit.”
Alana turned, puzzled. “Stay?”
“Yeah.” He nodded toward the living room. “I was thinking we could watch a movie or something. You know… spend some time together.”
She hesitated, drying her hands slowly on a towel. “I can’t tonight, Stefan. I’ve got work to finish.”
“Work?” His tone softened, but the edge was there. “It’s Friday.”
She avoided his eyes. “That doesn’t mean anything. I have emails to send, some reports to check over—”
“Right,” he said, cutting in, though his voice remained deceptively calm. “Work.”
Her gaze flicked to him. “Don’t do that.”
“Do what?”
“You know what, Stefan. Use that tone,” she said, frowning. “I know what it means.”
He exhaled, the towel still clenched in his hand. “You’re always busy lately. We live in the same house, Alana, but we both know something isn't right with us. I eat dinner with you, and then you disappear. I’m just trying to spend a little time with you. That’s all.”
She sighed, running a hand through her hair. “Stefan, don’t make this a thing. I’m tired, and I really need to get this done before morning.”
He stared at her for a long moment, then set the towel down on the counter. His voice, when he spoke, was quiet but rough around the edges. “Then tell me something before you go, Alana. Why did you let me move in if you hate having me here?”
Her eyes widened. “What?”
“You heard me.” His tone hardened. “You say you want me involved in Juliana’s life, and I moved in because I wanted to be here — for both of you. But every time I try to be close to you since then, you pull away. So just tell me — do you even want me here, or is this just… obligation?”
“That’s not fair,” she whispered.
“Isn’t it?” He took a step closer. “You won’t talk to me. You won’t look at me half the time. You almost flinch when I touch you, and you shut me out like I’m some stranger. So yeah, I think it’s a fair question.”
Her throat tightened. “This isn’t easy for me, Stefan. I can't do this right now,”
“This is still your house,” he said quietly. “And as much as I'd like to be here, I don't wanna stay if it makes you miserable,”
“I'm not miserable,”
He frowned. “Aren't you? Then tell me something, Alana. Are we even still in a relationship?
“What?”
“We sleep in separate bedrooms. We had more intimacy when I wasn't living here and when we hadn't even put a name on our relationship. So what are we now, Just two people living under the same roof for our daughter’s sake?”
Alana blinked hard, tears threatening. “Maybe that’s what we’ve become.”
He swallowed, every word landing like a stone in his chest. “But that's not what I want. Tell me what you want. Tell me why this is happening between us,”
“Honestly, Stefan, it's because you’ve never told me you love me.”
He froze, the air thickening between them. So they were back to that again, “I do.” he said, and tried to sound as truthful as possible.
“And yet you can’t bring yourself to say it.” Her voice dropped, softer now but trembling as her heart did a painful thump. “I can’t keep pretending this is enough. Because for me, it isn’t. I need more than proximity. I need honesty. I need to know this isn’t just about Juliana.”
Stefan’s chest rose and fell, the silence stretching. He looked at her — really looked — the flicker of pain in her eyes, the exhaustion, the walls she’d built because of him. He had no argument and stared at her in frustration and anguish.
She sighed and her voice calmed. “This whole thing is exhausting. I really only wanted this one way. I want to feel safe in a relationship. I gave up on this whole relationship thing until Juliana came and now….”
“That’s why I asked you to marry me. I want you to realize that I’m committed to you and our daughter.” Was there any better way to demonstrate how he felt about her than to make her his wife?
From Alana's expression, her consternation had grown as he spoke. “And I told you I want more.” It hurt to speak but she forced herself to add, “I refuse to settle for less. I don’t want us to get married for the wrong reasons.”
“We wouldn’t.”
“If I hadn’t gotten pregnant and had Juliana, would you have asked me to marry you?”
“I believe we were heading there. Or at least, I was. Even without Juliana, I would have still looked for you when I returned.”
“I don’t believe you.”
“So you don’t trust me and you won’t marry me, that's it? We're good together, Alana. How can you not see that?”
“We’re just...good in bed.”
The corner of his mouth lifted. “I disagree, but even if it's true, it’s still a start.”
“We can’t base a marriage on sex!”
His broad shoulders shifted and yet his eyes bored into hers. “There are plenty of couples who don’t even have that. I'm not the one who’s skeptical about marriage. My parents raised me to do the right thing, and if my mother was still alive, I know for sure that they would have honored their vows and I don’t doubt they would have stayed married until death.” Now it was her turn to answer some tough questions. “Why are you even with me at all?”