Chapter 91
Grace's POV
I woke up in Alex's arms, sunlight filtering through the curtains and casting golden patterns across his sleeping face. His dark hair was tousled, his usually sharp features softened in sleep. For a moment, I just watched him breathe, feeling something shift deep inside my chest.
I'm completely gone for this man.
The realization hit me like a wave. No more pretending this was just a business arrangement or family obligation. No more telling myself I could keep my heart safely locked away. I was falling—no, I had already fallen—completely and utterly in love with Alex Morgan.
I traced the line of his jaw with my eyes, memorizing every detail. Whatever risks came with loving him, whatever complications this brought to our already complex relationship, I was ready to face them. For the first time in years, I wanted to be vulnerable. I wanted to trust someone with everything I had.
Alex stirred, his eyes fluttering open. When he saw me watching him, a slow smile spread across his face.
"Good morning, beautiful," he murmured, his voice rough with sleep.
"Good morning," I whispered back, my heart doing that stupid fluttering thing it always did when he looked at me like that.
Alex sat up, running a hand through his hair.
"Grace," he said, reaching for my hand. His fingers were slightly trembling. "I want to take you to meet someone very important to me."
I sat up, suddenly alert. "Who?"
He took a deep breath, his blue eyes meeting mine with an intensity that made my stomach flutter. "My mother."
The weight of those words settled between us. I understood immediately what he was asking of me. Meeting someone's mother was significant under any circumstances, but this felt monumental.
I didn't hesitate. "Of course. I'd be honored."
Relief flooded his features, and he brought my hand to his lips, pressing a soft kiss to my knuckles. "Thank you."
---
An hour later, I was dressed and ready, holding a bouquet of white lilies I'd ordered from the hotel's florist. Alex had been quiet during our preparation, lost in thought.
The drive to Greenwood Cemetery took us through the outskirts of Starport, where the city's chaos gave way to rolling hills and ancient oak trees. Alex was silent the entire journey, his jaw tense, his usual confident demeanor replaced by something more fragile.
I watched him from the corner of my eye, noting how his knuckles were white where he gripped the steering wheel. The closer we got to our destination, the more his carefully constructed walls seemed to crumble, revealing a vulnerability I'd never seen before.
I reached over and placed my hand on his thigh, offering what comfort I could without words. He glanced at me, managing a small smile, but I could see the storm brewing behind his eyes.
Greenwood Cemetery was peaceful in the early morning light, mist still clinging to the grass between the headstones. Alex led me through the winding paths with sure steps, as if he'd walked this route countless times before.
We stopped before an elegant marble headstone, simple but beautiful. Alex knelt down, carefully placing the lilies at the base before pulling out a handkerchief to gently dust away any debris from the stone's surface.
I read the inscription carved into the marble: Diana Morgan, Beloved Wife and Mother.
"She died in childbirth," Alex said quietly, still kneeling. His voice was barely above a whisper. "Complications during delivery. The doctors said... they said if they'd had to choose between saving her or saving me..."
He trailed off, but I understood. The guilt in his voice, the way his shoulders hunched—Alex had been carrying the weight of his mother's death his entire life.
"Alex," I breathed, kneeling beside him on the soft grass. I didn't care that the morning dew was soaking through my dress.
"My father couldn't look at me for the first five years of my life," he continued, staring at his mother's photograph on the headstone—a beautiful woman with kind eyes and Alex's same dark hair. "Every time he saw me, he saw what he'd lost. I grew up thinking I was a mistake. That my existence had cost the world something precious."
Tears pricked at my eyes. I could picture it—a little boy growing up believing he was responsible for his mother's death, surrounded by grief and blame instead of love and celebration.
Alex took a shuddering breath and turned to face the headstone directly. "Mom, I brought someone very special to meet you."
He reached for my hand, pulling me closer. His grip was almost painful, as if he was anchoring himself to me.
"This is Grace Wilson. She's my wife."
I looked at the photograph on the headstone—Diana's gentle smile seemed to welcome me. Taking a deep breath, I spoke from my heart.
"Diana," I said, my voice steady despite the emotion threatening to overwhelm me. "I promise you, I will love Alex with everything I have. I'll take care of him, support him, and stand by him for the rest of my life."
I paused, then added something that came straight from my soul: "And thank you. Thank you for bringing such an amazing man into this world. Thank you for giving us Alex."
Alex went completely still beside me. I felt his hand tremble in mine, saw his chest rise and fall with rapid, shallow breaths. When I looked at him, his eyes were bright with unshed tears.
"No one..." he whispered, his voice breaking. "No one has ever thanked her for my life before. Everyone always talks about what the world lost when she died, but you... you're grateful she gave birth to me."
I reached up and cupped his face in my hands, feeling the dampness on his cheeks. "Of course I am. You're the best thing that's ever happened to me, Alex. Your mother gave me the greatest gift imaginable when she brought you into this world."
He pulled me against him then, burying his face in my neck. I felt his body shake with silent sobs, years of pain and guilt finally finding release. I held him tight, one hand stroking his hair, whispering soft reassurances.
"She loved you," I murmured against his ear. "She loved you more than her own life. You weren't a mistake, Alex. You were her greatest achievement, her most precious gift to the world."
We stayed like that for a long time, the morning sun warming our backs as Alex let himself grieve and heal in my arms. When he finally pulled back, his eyes were clearer than I'd ever seen them.
"Darling," he said softly, "let's go home."