The morning air is cool, and for the first time in weeks, I don’t feel the weight of uncertainty on my chest. Alexander is away on a business trip, leaving me alone in the penthouse. It’s been quiet, almost too quiet. I find myself walking through the apartment, drawn to the places where we’ve spent the most time together–his office, the kitchen, the living room. It all feels so… distant now.
But I’m not alone. Not really. His presence lingers in every corner of this place, in every piece of furniture, every object. I see reminders of him everywhere, even when he’s not here.
I hear the soft chime of my phone ringing, pulling me out of my thoughts. It’s Kate, one of Alexander’s close associates. I haven’t spoken to her much, but I know she’s been around since before I came into the picture.
“Leila,” her voice is warm, yet there’s something tentative in it, as though she’s unsure of how much to share. “I hope I’m not interrupting.”
“No, not at all,” I reply, walking toward the window and looking out at the city below. “What’s going on?”
There’s a slight pause before she speaks again. “I thought you might want to know something about Alexander. About his family.”
My heart tightens at the mention of his family. I know little about them–only the surface details that Alexander has reluctantly shared. His father, a successful businessman, was always in the picture but never quite *there* for him. His mother… well, I know she’s no longer alive, but that’s about it.
“What about his family?” I ask, my voice barely above a whisper.
Kate hesitates before responding. “It’s not my place to say much, but… I think you should understand why he’s the way he is. Why he’s always so distant. It’s all tied to his past—his father’s expectations, the pressure to succeed, and the constant battle for his approval. It’s been hard for him, Leila.”
I swallow hard, the words feeling heavy on my chest. This is not what I expected. I’ve always seen Alexander as the powerful, unyielding man who’s built his empire from the ground up, but to hear that his **emotional distance** is tied to a painful past? It shifts something inside me. A crack forms in the cold wall I’ve built between us, and for the first time, I wonder–maybe there’s more to him than I thought.
“I didn’t know…” I trail off, my voice faltering.
“There’s more, Leila. You should talk to him when he gets back. He might not open up easily, but maybe he’ll listen to you,” Kate says softly. “I know you care about him.”
I’m not sure how to respond to that. The truth is, I *do* care about him. Despite everything, despite the walls between us, I’ve begun to care more than I
ever thought possible.
“I’ll think about it,” I say finally, though my mind is already racing with questions. I want to know more. I need to understand him.
The day passes in a blur of silence, and as evening falls, I find myself waiting for Alexander’s return. It feels strange, this anticipation. A few weeks ago, I would’ve dreaded the thought of seeing him, but now, a part of me longs to bridge the gap between us. I want to know the man behind the suits, behind the cold façade.
When he finally steps through the door, I’m already seated at the dining table, pretending to read through a stack of papers. But my mind is elsewhere- on him, on the man who’s returned, still distant, still guarded.
“Leila,” he greets me briefly, his voice as controlled as ever. But there’s something different in his eyes. Maybe it’s the weariness from his trip, or maybe it’s something more.
I force a smile and look up from the papers. “How was the trip?”
“Same as always,” he replies, taking off his coat and hanging it on the hook by the door. He seems distant, lost in his own world, and can’t help but feel a pang of frustration. Why does he always close himself off? What’s so difficult about opening up?
I decide to take the plunge. I can’t keep dancing around the truth any longer.
“I spoke to Kate today,” I say, trying to keep my voice steady, though I feel a knot tighten in my stomach. “She told me about your past. About your
father.”
His eyes darken, the change in his expression almost imperceptible, but I catch it. For a split second, I see a flash of something–pain, maybe, or regret- but it’s gone before I can fully process it.
“You shouldn’t have talked to her,” he says sharply, his tone colder than I’ve ever heard it. “I’ve kept those details for a reason, Leila. They’re not for you.”
I swallow hard, trying to keep my voice calm. “I didn’t ask for details. But she told me enough to understand why you’ve been the way you are.”
“You think you understand me now?” His words are low, clipped, and full of irritation. “You think you know what I’ve been through?”
I stand up, trying to keep my composure, though my heart is pounding in my chest. “I never claimed to understand you, Alexander. But I’m trying. I’m
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trying to see more than just the businessman. The man who hides behind all these walls.”
He takes a step toward me, his jaw tightening, his eyes flashing with something that looks like anger. But there’s also something else there- vulnerability, a crack in his annor.
“You armour know what it’s like to have your life planned out for you. To always be the one who’s expected to be perfect,” he says, his voice lower now, almost weary. “To always feel like nothing you do is ever enough.”
I take a breath, stepping closer. “I’m not asking you to be perfect. I just want to know you. The real you.”
He looks at me then, really looks at me, and for the first time, I see something break in his expression. “You wouldn’t want that, Leila,” he says softly. You wouldn’t want to know the things I’ve done, the things I’ve had to do to survive.”
Before I can respond, there’s a knock at the door. We both freeze. The tension between us is palpable, but the moment is broken by the interruption.
Alexander looks at me, a silent plea in his eyes. He doesn’t want to open up–not yet. And maybe I’m not ready for that either.
But I know one thing: there’s more to Alexander than I ever imagined. And I won’t stop until I find out what lies behind the shadows of his past
