CHAPTER 47

I watched as Alexander moved around my kitchen, his hands deftly chopping vegetables and stirring something on the stove. The sound of the knife hitting the cutting board was rhythmic, steady, almost comforting in its predictability. For a moment, I just stood there, leaning against the counter, watching him work. He looked completely at ease in my kitchen, his brow furrowed in concentration, his movements careful and deliberate. He was trying, I could see that now. Really trying.

I shook my head to clear it. There was so much that had happened between us, so many things left unsaid, unresolved. And yet, here he was—helping me, not with the expectation of something in return, but just because he wanted to. Just because he wanted to be here.

I glanced down at Ember, who was snuggled comfortably in my arms, her tiny hands gripping the bottle as she drank greedily. The soft sucking sounds were the only noise in the room, and I couldn't help but smile at her. She was so perfect, so innocent. Nothing in the world could compare to this feeling.

But even as I held Ember, I couldn't stop the thoughts racing in my mind. Alexander. He had changed. The man who once walked away from me, leaving me broken and alone, was now standing in my kitchen, making dinner, taking care of things like a man who cared about me—and about Ember.

I didn't know how to process it. Was this all part of some elaborate plan to win me back? Or was this real? Did he truly care, or was he just trying to repair his shattered image?

But as I watched him move around the kitchen, his actions spoke louder than his words ever could. There was no arrogance in his steps, no entitlement in the way he cooked or cleaned. His shoulders were slightly hunched, his posture one of humility, as if he was afraid of doing something wrong. As if he was afraid of disappointing me again.

I wasn't sure what to make of it. It felt too soon to forgive him, too soon to even consider giving him another chance. But something about tonight—the way he was trying, the way he looked at Ember with such tenderness—made me pause. Maybe I was being too harsh. Maybe I had to let go of the pain, the anger, and open myself up to the possibility that people could change.

But could I really? Was it even worth the risk?

Ember let out a soft sigh as she finished the bottle, her tiny hands releasing their grip and her eyes fluttering closed. I smiled, brushing a strand of hair from her face. "You're so beautiful," I whispered, gently placing her in her crib. She settled in, her little chest rising and falling in a steady rhythm.

I stood there for a moment, watching her sleep, my heart swelling with love for the little girl I had fought so hard for. I was doing this for her, for both of us. Every decision I made now would be for her future, for her happiness.

"Dinner's ready," Alexander called from the kitchen, breaking my thoughts.

I took a deep breath before walking over to the dining table. He had made a simple pasta dish, the aroma of garlic and herbs filling the air. It smelled delicious.

"Thanks," I said, taking a seat across from him. I couldn't remember the last time I had someone cook for me, let alone someone like Alexander. He had always been the kind of man who expected everything to be done for him, never lifting a finger unless it directly benefitted him. But now, sitting here, watching him place the plate in front of me with a shy smile, I realized how much he had changed.

We ate in silence at first, the clinking of utensils the only sound between us. The tension was still there, but it wasn't as suffocating as it had been before. Slowly, I allowed myself to relax into the moment. I didn't want to think too much, to overanalyze his every move. For once, I just wanted to enjoy the simple things—the food, the company, the quiet peace of the evening.

"How's the pasta?" Alexander asked, looking up at me with a cautious but hopeful expression.

"It's really good," I said, giving him a genuine smile. "Thank you."

He nodded, relieved. "I'm glad you like it."

We ate in a comfortable silence, the atmosphere between us oddly peaceful. I could see that he was trying so hard to make things right, but I didn't know if that would be enough. Could I really trust him again after everything that had happened? Could I let myself be vulnerable with him?

As we finished dinner, Alexander cleared the plates and started cleaning up without saying a word. It was strange, seeing him do something so simple and yet so significant. It wasn't just the act of cleaning—it was the way he did it. He wasn't rushing or acting like he was doing me some huge favor. It was as though he was trying to prove that he was capable of more than just being the man I once knew.

I sat there, watching him, my heart conflicted. He was trying. So hard. And part of me, the part that had been so desperate for love and validation all those years ago, wanted to throw caution to the wind and forgive him. But another part of me, the part that had been hurt too many times, was telling me to keep my guard up.

I wasn't ready. Not yet.

But as I watched him finish the dishes and glance over at me with a small, uncertain smile, I realized that maybe... just maybe, I could consider giving him a chance.

I wasn't sure what the future held, but I knew one thing for certain: I couldn't keep living in the past. I had to move forward, for Ember's sake and for my own.

As I watched Alexander leave the kitchen, the sound of his footsteps light and cautious, I felt a strange mixture of hope and fear. I couldn't forget the past, but maybe—just maybe—I could start to build something new. Something different.

And as I looked at him, really looked at him, I saw a man who wasn't perfect, but who was trying. And maybe that was enough for now.

For the first time in a long time, I allowed myself to believe that maybe, just maybe, we could find a way to make this work.