Chapter 146 After
Chapter 146 After
The drive home felt quieter than usual. Not tense just full. Leo was out cold halfway there, one shoe missing, head flopped sideways against the seat.
Once they got home, Alexander carried him up carefully. Elena slipped into the dim apartment behind them, kicking off her heels and stretching her sore feet. Alexander disappeared down the hall with Leo.
He came back a minute later, somehow even quieter than before. “He’s asleep,” he said softly.
“With both shoes?” Elena asked.
“One was under him. I stopped asking questions.”
She snorted out a laugh.
The quiet settled in again, not lonely just late evening tiredness. Alexander loosened his tie as he crossed the living room. Elena watched him. Something still clung to him. Not tension more like relief. Or maybe just amazement.
“You’re thinking too loudly,” she teased.
He glanced up. “Is that a skill now?”
“You’ve been staring at the wall for like thirty seconds.”
“I’m processing.”
“That’s dangerous.”
“Probably.”
Elena wandered off to the kitchen and filled two glasses of water. When she handed him one, their fingers brushed automatic, familiar now. He leaned back against the counter.
“You know what’s weird?” he said.
“What?”
“My father asked for someone’s daughter. Respectfully.”
Elena smiled. “You sound shocked.”
“I am shocked.”
“He did well tonight.”
“He did,” Alexander said right away. No hesitation.
He stared into his glass. “I think he was nervous.”
Elena blinked. “Your father?”
“Terrifying, right?”
She shook her head a little. “I never thought I’d picture Richard Thorne nervous.”
Alexander laughed under his breath. “Me neither.”
Light hit his face just right, showing the exhaustion under his eyes more than just a long day at work. This was deep seated tiredness. The kind that comes from months of rebuilding what you thought was impossible to fix.
She stepped closer before she could second guess. Her hand rested lightly on his chest. “You okay?”
He met her eyes. No act. “Yeah.” He paused. “Just feels strange.”
“How?”
He took a second. “Everything used to feel so…temporary. Even when things got better, part of me just waited for them to fall apart again.”
Elena understood that. She’d spent years like that expecting loss, bracing for disappointment before happiness could even settle.
“And now?” she asked.
He slipped his arm around her waist. “Now our families are planning a wedding together, and our son is asleep down the hallway.”
That phrase still caught something in her every time our son. Not a chore or a nice gesture, just a fact.
Alexander leaned his forehead against hers for a second. “I don’t know when it stopped feeling impossible.”
Elena smiled. “Probably somewhere between dinosaur lectures and working through all our emotional baggage.”
“That narrows it down.”
She laughed, soft and easy.
The apartment felt warm around them. Safe. Like home.
Alexander gently tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. “You were beautiful tonight.”
“You already said that this morning.”
“And I was right both times.”
“You’re annoyingly consistent.”
“Call it dedication.”
His voice softened in that way he only used with her.
That’s when it hit her she still wasn’t used to being loved like this. Not loudly, not with grand gestures, but steadily. Every day. Through tired spells, little stresses, piles of dishes, and preschool drama.
Love didn’t feel like survival anymore. It just felt like coming home. And honestly, that scared her. Losing home hurts in ways nothing else does.
Alexander saw her expression shift right away. “What?”
She hesitated, then said quietly, “Part of me’s still waiting for something weird to happen.”
He went still, but not defensive or shocked. “Me too,” he said.
That simple honesty let some knot in her chest loosen. No faking, just the truth.
He rubbed gentle circles on her back. “Maybe that never fully goes away after enough bad years.”
She looked up. “So how do you stop being afraid?”
He shrugged, a little smile tugging at his lips. “You just keep going.”
It was simple. True.
So she leaned into him, and he held her. No more explanation needed.
Monday came way too early.
The apartment fell back into its routines coffee brewing, Leo waging war on socks, Elena at the counter with half-eaten toast and emails, Alexander buttoning his cuffs in the hallway mirror.
Normal life.
Leo hopped up on a chair. “I dreamed about dinosaurs getting married.”
Alexander, mid-step, raised an eyebrow. “Should I be concerned?”
“They had hats.”
“Somehow that’s less worrying.”
Elena tried to hide a smile.
Leo eyed them. “Are weddings boring?”
“No,” Elena said cautiously.
“Sometimes,” Alexander added at the same time.
They traded a look. “You’re not helping,” Elena muttered.
“I’m preparing him emotionally,” Alexander replied.
Leo took this seriously. “Will there be cake?”
“Yes,” Elena said.
“Then I support marriage.”
Alexander nodded. “Reasonable.”
The city was already buzzing as Alexander dropped Elena at work. Traffic inched along. The radio murmured in the background. Leo sang nonsense, clutching his dinosaur like a tiny criminal.
Elena grabbed her bag, hesitated. “You’ll work late tonight?”
“Probably.”
“You said that always.”
“And it was true.”
She shot him a look a little worried, not annoyed.
“I’ll come home,” he promised quietly.
She nodded, kissed him quick. No drama, just the way they did now.
Leo made exaggerated gagging sounds from the backseat. “I want new crayons.”
Alexander met his eyes in the mirror. “You eat your crayons.”
“I lost it.”
At Thorne Empire, Victoria was already in the conference room, laptop open, coffee untouched, and wearing the sort of expression that made junior execs sweat.
Her assistant hovered over her schedule.
“Morning,” Alexander said.
Victoria didn’t look up. “That’s debatable.”
“You seem bright and cheery.”
“I had six emails before eight.”
“Victim of competence.”
“True.”
Alexander dropped into the chair next to her as people filtered in.
Work picked up: meetings, projections, contracts, strategy talk.
Funny thing Alexander didn’t mind as much now. Because when he glanced over and saw Victoria destroying a bad proposal with a look, he didn’t feel alone. And when Richard came in later with a stack of reports, the room felt normal, not suffocating.
Things weren’t perfect. But they were different.
During one meeting, Richard looked at Alexander as he talked numbers. Just a glance quick, easy to miss. There was pride there. Care. Still strange, but Alexander felt it.
Victoria noticed, too. Afterward, she leaned in, collecting her papers. “He keeps looking at you like he’s emotionally constipated.”
Alexander nearly spit out his coffee. “Jesus Christ, Victoria.”
“I’m serious.”
“That’s an image I didn’t need.”
She stood, smooth as ever. “But accurate.”
And for the first time in years, Alexander actually laughed at work because he wanted to, not because he had to.