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Book 2 Start
“Right on schedule,” Emma muttered.
“You knew this would happen?” Alek asked, confused.
“Grandpa’s idea of marriage counseling.” Emma leaned against the wall. “We’re stuck for thirty minutes, supposedly to force conversation.”
“Effective, if unorthodox.” Alek loosened his tie. “We do need to talk.”
“About the photos,” Emma said flatly.
“Yes.” Alek met her gaze directly. “It wasn’t what it looked like.”
“It looked like you having an intimate dinner with your ex–fiancée,” Emma said. “The same dinner you lied
about.”
“I didn’t lie about its purpose,” Alek insisted. “It was to establish boundaries, to make it clear to Elise that our past is irrelevant to her current position.”
“And the embrace outside the restaurant?”
Alek sighed, running a hand through his hair. “She was upset. I was being polite.”
“Polite,” Emma repeated skeptically.
“Yes, polite.” Irritation edged Alek’s voice. “She tried to suggest we might rekindled something, and I shut it down completely. I told her I was happily married and any contact would be strictly professional. The hug was her idea–a goodbye to any possibility.”
“Which you could have mentioned when we argued at Franklin’s,” Emma pointed out.
“I was angry that you immediately assumed the worst,” Alek countered. “That after everything we’ve been through, you’d think I would betray you that way.”
“I didn’t assume you were cheating,” Emma clarified. “I was hurt that you kept hiding things from me.” The elevator hummed softly in the background as they stared at each other, the first honest exchange they’d had in weeks.
“I’ve handled this badly,” Alek admitted finally. “All of it. Since the hospital.”
“So have I,” Emma acknowledged. “I’ve been distant, throwing myself into work to avoid dealing with the loss.” “And I’ve been overprotective, making decisions I had no right to make alone.” Alek slid down the wall to sit on the elevator floor, suddenly looking exhausted. “I don’t know how to do this, Emma. How to grieve without losing you too.”
The raw vulnerability in his voice cracked something in Emma’s chest. She sat across from him, floor cold through her skirt.
L
elevator
“I’m still here,” she said softly. “I’m not going anywhere.”
“Aren’t you?” Alek’s eyes met hers. “You’ve been slipping away since the hospital. Working more hours, moving into Franklin’s, avoiding conversations about the future.”
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“Because those conversations always end with you deciding what’s best for my body Emma countered. “Without considering what I need emotionally”
“What do you need?” Alek asked simply.
The question caught Emma off guard. “What?”
“Emotionally, What do you need from me?”
Emma took a shaky breath. “I need you to hear me when I say I’m not ready to give up on carrying our child. That surrogacy feels like admitting defeat to me right now”
“Even with the risks?”
“Yes,” Emma admitted, “I know it’s not rational. I know the statistics. But my heart isn’t ready for that option
yet.”
Alek nodded slowly. “I can respect that, even if I’m terrified by it.”
“Your turn,” Emma said. “What do you need from me?”
“Understanding,” Alek said immediately. “That my fear comes from love, not a desire to control you.”
“And?” Emma prompted, sensing more.
“And patience,” Alek admitted, his voice rough. “I’m trying to balance protecting you with respecting your independence, and I keep getting it wrong.”
“We both need to stop trying so hard not to hurt each other,” Emma said, echoing Natasha’s earlier advice. “It’s making us dishonest.”
Alek reached across the elevator floor, offering his hand. After a moment’s hesitation, Emma took it.
“I miss you,” he said simply. “Even when you’re right in front of me.”
“I miss you too.” Emma’s throat tightened with emotion. “Every day.”
“Can we start over?” Alek asked. “Not ignore what’s happened, but… reset somehow?”
“I don’t think we can go back,” Emma said honestly. “But we can go forward differently.”
They sat in silence for a moment, hands still joined, the first real connection they’d shared in weeks.
“About Elise,” Alek said finally. “I’ve requested she be reassigned to our minor league affiliate. The distance will minimize any potential awkwardness.”
“You don’t need to do that,” Emma protested.
“It’s already done.” Alek squeezed her hand. “Some things are more important than professional courtesy.” The elevator jerked suddenly, lights returning to full brightness. Right on cue, the car began moving again. “Apparently our thirty minutes are up,” Emma observed wryly.
“Franklin has impeccable timing,” Alek agreed, helping her to her feet as the elevator reached the third floor. As the doors opened, Emma made a decision. “Come home tonight,” she said quietly. “To our home, I mean. We can continue this conversation there.”
Hope flickered in Alek’s eyes. “Are you sure?”
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“Yes,” Emma said firmly. “It’s time I stopped running.”
They stepped out of the elevator together, not completely healed but at least facing in the same direction
again.
Franklin, somehow already in the library despite his supposed inability to use the stairs, watched them with poorly disguised satisfaction.
“Productive elevator ride?” he inquired innocently.
“Very subtle, Grandpa,” Emma said dryly.
“Subtlety is overrated at my age,” Franklin replied without an ounce of remorse. “Now, about those
contracts…”
“There are no contracts, are there?” Alek guessed.
“Of course not.” Franklin waved dismissively. “But there is brandy, which seerns appropriate for a peace
treaty.”
As Franklin poured three glasses, Emma found herself exchanging a small smile with Alek–their first moment of genuine connection in weeks. Not a solution to everything, but perhaps a step away from the brink they’d been approaching.
Sometimes, Emma reflected, false starts were necessary before finding the right path forward.
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