Chapter 28 Distance Between Us
Alexander's POV - Saturday Night
Alexander drove without direction, just moving, putting distance between himself and the wreckage of the evening.
A child.
Elena had a child.
His hands gripped the steering wheel until his knuckles turned white.
The words kept replaying. That woman's voice—Viviana—cold and cruel: Didn't even know who the father was. One night stand.
Elena's face. The tears. The way she'd whispered yes when he'd asked if it was true.
He pulled into an empty parking lot, killed the engine, and sat in the darkness.
A son. Two, almost three years old.
All this time—the coffee, the conversations, the kiss at the convenience store, tonight's perfect date—she'd been hiding this.
I was going to tell you.
When? After he'd fallen completely? Or After he'd introduced her to his family? After—
His phone buzzed. Victoria.
He ignored it.
It buzzed again. Then a text: Father's asking about the Sterling deal.
He turned off his phone.
Be my girlfriend.
She'd said yes. Had kissed him. Had let him believe they were starting something real.
While hiding an entire human being.
Alexander pressed his palms against his eyes.
He wasn't angry. Or—he was, but underneath that was hurt. Confusion. The feeling of being played for a fool.
She'd had so many chances to tell him. In the car rides. During their phone calls. At the restaurant tonight when he'd asked about her life, her dreams, her future.
Any of those moments, she could have said, I have a son.
But she hadn't.
Why?
The question gnawed at him.
Was she ashamed? Did she think he couldn't handle it? Did she—
Did she think he'd reject her?
The thought stopped him cold.
Would he have? If she'd told him upfront—Hi, I'm Elena, I have a two-year-old son from a relationship I'd rather not discuss—would he have walked away?
He wanted to say no. Wanted to believe he would have accepted it, understood, moved forward anyway.
But would he have?
His father's voice echoed: Thornes don't involve themselves with complicated women. You need someone suitable.
Felicia was suitable. Perfect background, perfect education, perfect everything.
Elena was a single mother who'd gotten pregnant in college and apparently couldn't—or wouldn't—name the father.
His family would never accept her.
The realization hit hard.
Even if he forgave her for hiding this. Even if they found a way past this betrayal. Even if—
His family would destroy her.
Maybe that's why she hadn't told him. Maybe she knew it was hopeless from the start.
Alexander sat in his car until the windows fogged, until his phone started buzzing again with messages he couldn't face, until the cold seeped in and made him shiver.
Then he drove home to his empty apartment and tried not to think about Elena crying on her doorstep, shopping bags scattered around her feet.
Tried and failed.p
Elena's POV - Saturday Night, Late
Elena lay in her bed, staring at the ceiling, tears sliding silently into her hair.
Mrs. Chen had wanted her to stay, but Elena couldn't. Needed to be home when Leo woke up tomorrow. Needed to pretend everything was fine.
The bracelet was still on her wrist. She should take it off, put it away, forget it existed.
She couldn't bring herself to touch it.
I'm falling for you. Completely.
His words from earlier felt like they'd happened in another lifetime.
Be my girlfriend.
She'd said yes. Had felt such hope, such happiness.
And then Viviana had appeared like a nightmare made flesh and destroyed everything in under five minutes.
Elena's phone sat silent on her nightstand. No calls. No texts. Nothing.
Of course not. What was there to say?
She'd lied by omission. Hidden something fundamental. Let him believe she was someone she wasn't.
Simple, uncomplicated Elena. The assistant with no baggage. The woman who could fit into his world without disrupting it.
Not Elena the single mother. Elena with the mystery baby daddy. Elena who'd been thrown out of her own home for getting pregnant.
Her chest ached.
Leo stirred in his room—she could hear him through the wall, probably turning over in his sleep, clutching his elephant tighter.
Her beautiful boy. Her reason for everything.
And now her reason for losing Alexander.
The thought was unfair and she hated herself for thinking it.
But it was there anyway, ugly and painful.
If she didn't have Leo, this would be easier. If she'd made different choices, if that night had never happened, if—
No.
She wouldn't think like that. Couldn't.
Leo was her heart. Her purpose. The best thing in her messy, complicated life.
Losing Alexander hurt. God, it hurt like nothing she'd felt before.
But losing Leo? Inconceivable.
She'd choose her son over anything. Anyone. Every time.
Even if it meant losing the first person who'd made her believe she deserved to be happy.
Elena cried until exhaustion took over and pulled her into restless, dream-filled sleep.
Sunday Morning
"Mama, wake up! It's park day!"
Elena opened gritty eyes to find Leo bouncing on her bed, already dressed in mismatched clothes he'd clearly picked himself.
"Good morning, baby."
"You said we could go to the park on Sunday! Is it Sunday?"
"It is."
"Then park!" He tugged her hand. "Come on!"
She dragged herself up, every movement heavy. Her eyes were swollen from crying, her head ached, her chest felt hollow.
"Let me get dressed first, okay?"
"Okay, fast fast!"
She showered mechanically, pulled on jeans and a sweater, tied her hair back. Avoided looking at her reflection too closely.
The bracelet caught her eye. She should take it off.
She left it on.
At the playground, Leo ran straight for the swings. "Push me, Mama! Push me high!"
Elena pushed, watching him soar, hearing his delighted shrieks.
He was so happy. So uncomplicated in his joy.
Other families dotted the playground—couples with their children, fathers helping toddlers down slides, mothers chatting on benches.
Normal families. Complete families.
Not single mothers with secrets and broken hearts.
"Higher, Mama!"
She pushed harder, focusing on Leo's laughter instead of the hollow ache in her chest.
At the top of a swing arc, Leo threw his head back, dimples flashing, and Elena's breath caught.
Alexander's dimples.
She'd convinced herself it was coincidence. Projection. Her mind playing tricks.
But watching Leo now, grinning with pure joy, she couldn't unsee it.
The shape of his smile. The angle of his jaw. The way his hair fell across his forehead when he was in motion.
Tears burned her eyes.
No. She was being ridiculous. Seeing connections because she was hurt and desperate and—
"Mama? Why are you crying?"
She wiped her eyes quickly. "I'm not, baby. Just the wind."
"It's not windy."
"A little bit windy." She lifted him off the swing. "Want to play on the slide?"
He studied her face with those too-knowing eyes. "Are you sad about your friend?"
Her throat tightened. "A little."
"Did you have a fight?"
"Something like that."
"You should say sorry. That's what I do when I fight with Mrs. Chen."
If only it were that simple.
"That's good advice, sweetheart. Come on, let's play."
They stayed at the playground for two hours. Leo played until he was exhausted, and Elena pushed down every thought that threatened to surface.
Later, walking home with Leo's hand in hers, she made herself a promise.
Leo was her priority. Her purpose. Her everything.
Alexander—whatever they'd had, whatever they could have been—was over.
It had to be.
Because her son came first. Would always come first.
Even if it meant her heart stayed broken.
Even if every time Leo smiled, she'd see Alexander's face.
Even if the rest of her life felt dimmer without him in it.
She'd survived worse. She'd survive this.
She had to.
Monday Morning
Elena arrived at work early, makeup carefully applied to hide the evidence of crying, professional armor firmly in place.
She could do this. Be professional. Maintain distance. Pretend her heart wasn't in pieces.
The office was empty. She made coffee—Victoria's blue mug, exactly right—and settled at her desk.
At seven-thirty, Alexander's office light turned on.
He was here. In the building. Twenty feet away.
Elena forced herself to breathe normally.
At eight, Victoria arrived, already on her phone, striding past Elena's desk without a word.
The day began.
Elena answered calls, managed schedules, handled emails. Professional. Efficient. Fine.
She didn't look toward Alexander's office. Didn't let herself wonder if he was looking at her.
At nine, Victoria called her in.
"I need you to coordinate with Alexander on the quarterly projections. The board wants them by Wednesday."
Elena's stomach dropped. "I can handle that through email—"
"Face to face. Make sure nothing's missed." Victoria's eyes were sharp. "Is that a problem?"
"No. Of course not."
"Good."
Elena walked to Alexander's office on numb legs. Knocked.
"Come in."
His voice—the same one that had said I'm falling for you—made her chest ache.
She stepped inside.
Alexander sat at his desk, focused on his computer. He didn't look up immediately.
When he did, his expression was carefully blank.
"Elena."
"Victoria wants me to coordinate with you on the quarterly projections."
"Fine. I'll email you what I have."
"She wants us to meet. Face to face."
His jaw tightened almost imperceptibly. "When?"
"Now, if you have time."
A pause. Then: "Sit."
She sat across from him, maintaining professional distance, keeping her face neutral.
He pulled up spreadsheets, turned his monitor so she could see. "These are the current numbers. Revenue's up seven percent, but expenses are eating into margins—"
"I can see that."
"Then you'll notice the Asia-Pacific expansion is underperforming projections by—"
"Twelve percent. Yes."
Silence.
They both stared at the screen, not at each other.
"We need to address it in the report," Alexander said finally.
"Agreed. I'll draft language explaining the shortfall."
"I'll review it."
"Fine."
More silence.
Elena forced herself to focus on the numbers, on the work, on anything except the fact that she was sitting three feet from Alexander and he felt a million miles away.
"Is that everything?" she asked.
"For now."
She stood. "I'll send you the draft by end of day."
"Elena."
She froze at the door. "Yes?"
He was looking at her now, really looking, and his expression was complicated. Hurt and confused and something else she couldn't read.
"Nothing. That's all."
She left before her composure cracked.
The rest of Monday crawled by.
Elena saw Alexander twice more—once in the hallway where they nodded politely and kept walking, once in Victoria's office for a brief meeting where they both stayed rigidly professional.
No one seemed to notice the tension. Jenna was focused on her own work. Victoria was her usual demanding self. The office flowed normally.
Only Elena and Alexander knew everything had changed.
At lunch, Natalie texted: Taco truck?
Elena couldn't face it. Can't today. Swamped.
You're always swamped lately. You okay?
Fine. Just busy.
She ate crackers at her desk and tried not to cry.
Alexander's POV - Monday Afternoon
Alexander stared at the email Elena had sent.
The draft was perfect. Concise, accurate, addressing the shortfall without making excuses. Exactly what he would have written himself.
Professional. Competent. Completely impersonal.
Like they were strangers.
He'd spent all of Sunday trying to process. Trying to understand. Trying to figure out what he felt beneath the hurt and betrayal.
And he'd come to one unavoidable conclusion:
He still wanted her.
Even knowing about the child. Even knowing she'd hidden it. Even knowing his family would never accept it.
He wanted Elena. Wanted to understand. Wanted to find a way through this.
But she'd barely looked at him today. Had answered in monosyllables. Had kept every interaction brief and cold.
Maybe she didn't want to fight for this. Maybe Saturday night had been the end for her too.
The thought hurt more than the initial betrayal.
Elena's POV - Monday Evening
At six, Elena packed up and left without saying goodbye to anyone.
She collected Leo from Mrs. Chen, made dinner, gave him a bath, read him stories.
Normal. Routine. Safe.
"Mama?"
"Yes, baby?"
"Your friend—the one you had a fight with—are you still friends?"
Her throat closed. "I don't know."
"That's sad."
"Yeah. It is."
"You should fix it."
"Some things can't be fixed, sweetheart."
"But you always fix my toys when they break."
"People are different from toys."
"Oh." He thought about this seriously. "That's dumb."
Despite everything, she almost smiled. "Very dumb."
After Leo was asleep, Elena sat in the darkness of her living room and let herself feel everything she'd been holding back all day.
The loss. The regret. The hollow ache of missing someone who was twenty feet away but completely unreachable.
Tomorrow would be the same. And the day after that. Working together but apart, professional but broken, pretending everything was fine when nothing was.
She didn't know how long she could do this.
But she didn't have a choice.
This was her life now. Her job. Her reality.
And she'd survive it.
The way she survived everything else.
One painful day at a time.