90. Memories

90. Memories
Author's Pov
Alina sat cross-legged on her bed, the soft glow of the lamp casting a warm light over the photo album spread out before her. She traced a finger over the images of Asher, her heart swelling with a mixture of pride and sorrow. How could it be that four years had flown by so quickly? It felt like just yesterday that she and Thea had gone for that first ultrasound, the tiny flicker of a heartbeat promising so much joy and change.
Her eyes lingered on a photo of Asher as a baby, his cherubic face alight with laughter as he played on a picnic blanket. She remembered that day vividly, the scent of fresh grass, Thea’s laughter echoing through the park, and the sheer happiness that had enveloped her. But now, her baby was growing up, transforming into the little gentleman she had always hoped he would be. A tear slipped down her cheek as she marveled at the swift passage of time, feeling a pang of sadness at how fleeting those early years had been.
Lost in her reverie, she didn’t hear the soft knock at the door until it creaked open. Startled, she hurriedly began to gather the photos, placing them back into the box where she kept all of Asher’s precious memories. Theodore stepped into the room, holding a steaming mug of coffee. “I wasn’t expecting you. I thought you had gone to sleep,” Alina said, surprised by his sudden appearance.
“No, I was making coffee. I thought you needed it after the whole tiring event to soothe your muscles a bit,” Theodore replied, offering her the mug as he took a seat opposite her on the bed. Alina shook her head with a soft laugh.
“That’s not your job, Mr. Maxwell,” she teased, accepting the mug and taking a sip. “It’s your personal assistant’s.” Theodore chuckled, the sound warm and genuine.
“True. But even she needs a little break sometimes,” he said, his eyes locking with hers, a depth of emotion stirring within them. Feeling the intensity of his gaze, Alina cleared her throat awkwardly, shifting her focus.
“What’s this?” Theodore asked, nodding towards the box she had hastily closed.
“Nothing. Just some… things,” Alina responded, her voice trailing off.
“Like?” Theodore’s curiosity was evident, and Alina hesitated, unsure how much to reveal. “I don’t mean to intrude, but you looked quite involved in whatever it was,” he added gently.
“It’s… just some memories,” she admitted finally.
“Oh,” Theodore said softly, his eyes reflecting a mixture of understanding and longing. “Can I… may I please see them if you don’t mind?” Alina’s heart beat rapidly at his request, the pain of past hurts surfacing. She had kept these memories close, a private sanctuary of moments shared with Asher. But then she reminded herself that Asher was also Theodore’s child.
With a reluctant nod, she handed the box to him. Theodore carefully lifted the lid, his hands trembling slightly as he sifted through the photos. His eyes welled up as he saw images of little Asher and Alina, their joy evident in each snapshot. In some photos, Thea’s presence added to the tapestry of their shared experiences, while one photo in particular caught his attention—Alina and Elliot lifting Asher together, their faces radiant with happiness.
Theodore’s expression darkened momentarily, a flicker of jealousy crossing his features before he turned to the next photo. When he reached the ultrasound picture, his eyes snapped to Alina’s, the weight of his absence during such a pivotal moment evident. His throat tightened as he gazed at the image, his heart aching with regret. Gently, he placed the photos back in the box and took Alina’s hands in his, his voice breaking as he spoke.
“I’m so sorry. For everything. I swear, Alina,” Theodore’s voice cracked, tears slipping down his cheeks as he knelt before her. “I know I’m not worth it. But can you please forgive me? Please. I was blinded. I just need another chance, Alina. I hate myself for not being there during such a precious time. If I had the power, I would turn back time to go through this pregnancy with you. I’m sorry.” Alina’s heart ached at his words, the raw vulnerability in his eyes stirring a deep emotion within her.
“You don’t have to apologize. Just stop. I don’t like recalling that time,” she said, quickly retracting her hands from his grasp.
“Please, Alina. One chance is all I need. Just one chance,” Theodore begged, his voice filled with desperation. Alina looked away, the weight of his plea heavy on her shoulders.
“I’ll think about it. I’m tired now. I’d like to sleep.” Theodore didn’t move. He stayed on his knees, his eyes pleading with Alina.
“Please, Alina, don’t send me away like this. I need you to know how much I regret everything. How much I want to make things right.” Alina sighed, the weight of his words pressing heavily on her heart. She had been through so much pain and struggle, and Theodore’s sudden reappearance, filled with remorse and longing, reopened old wounds that she had fought hard to heal.
“Theodore,” she said softly, her voice trembling with fatigue and emotion, “we have office tomorrow. We both need to get some rest. This conversation… it’s important, but it’s not one we can have right now.”
“I can’t just leave it like this,” Theodore insisted, his voice breaking with desperation. “I need you to understand how sorry I am. I need you to know that I’m willing to do anything to make things right.” Alina shook her head, her eyes welling up with unshed tears.
“I hear you, Theodore. I do. But tonight… tonight I need to rest. I need to process everything you’ve said. We can’t resolve this in one conversation, especially not when we’re both exhausted.” Theodore’s shoulders sagged, the fight draining out of him as he realized the truth in her words. He rose slowly to his feet, wiping away the tears that had fallen.
“I understand,” he said quietly, his voice hoarse. “But please, don’t shut me out. I’ll wait for as long as it takes.” Alina nodded, her heart heavy with conflicting emotions.
“We’ll talk more, I promise. But not tonight.” Theodore took a deep breath, steadying himself.
“Alright. Goodnight, Alina.”
“Goodnight, Theodore,” she replied, watching as he walked towards the door, his steps heavy with the weight of their unresolved past. As the door clicked shut behind him, Alina leaned back against her pillows, her mind swirling with memories and emotions. She closed her eyes, willing herself to find some semblance of peace amidst the chaos in her heart. Tomorrow was another day, and perhaps, with time, they could find a way to heal the wounds that had kept them apart for so long. She took one last glance at the box of memories, a silent promise to herself that she would face whatever lay ahead with strength and hope. And with that, she turned off the light, allowing the darkness to envelope her as she drifted into a restless sleep.