The weight of anxiety presses against my chest as I sit across from Alexander in his office. The sun has long since dipped below the horizon, and weâre the only souls left in the building. Everyone else has gone home, but he asked to speak to me before I left.
âClara,â Alex begins, his eyes an impenetrable ocean of blue. âI wanted to talk to you about something important.â
My heart races in anticipation. A cold shiver runs down my spine as I wrap my arms around myself, trying to ward off the chill that seems to have permeated the room. I force a small smile and nod, urging him to continue.
âFrom the moment you joined our team, I knew there was something special about you,â he says, leaning forward with intensity. âYouâre incredibly intelligent, hardworking, and passionate about what you do.â
âThank you, Alex,â I manage to mumble, feeling a slight flush rise to my cheeks.
âHereâs the thingâ¦â he trails off, and I can see a hint of vulnerability in his eyes.
As he speaks, I try to keep my emotions in check, focusing on his words rather than the storm brewing inside me. His voice is steady and measured, but I sense the pain hidden beneath the surface.
âYour accusations⦠they made me take a closer look at certain things,â he continues. âAnd you were right. My father was involved in some shady business deals, but I had no knowledge of them until recently.â
My stomach clenches, and I fight the urge to bolt out of the room. Itâs difficult to reconcile the feelings I have for Alex with the knowledge that his family has caused mine so much suffering. How am I supposed to trust someone who comes from a world so different from my own?
âClara, I am truly sorry for everything my family has put you through,â Alex says, his voice cracking with emotion. âI never wanted any of this to happen.â
âThank you for telling me, but⦠I donât know what to say,â I admit, staring down at the floor.
âIs there anything I can do to make it up to you?â he asks, a desperate plea in his eyes.
As much as I want to trust him, Iâm not sure if I can ever truly forgive and forget. Thereâs too much pain, too much history between us. And yet, something inside me still wants to try.
âAlex,â I begin, my voice wavering. âI need some time. Time to process all of this.â
âTake all the time you need, Clara. Iâll be here when youâre ready to talk,â he assures me, his eyes full of warmth and understanding.
âThank you,â I whisper, standing up to leave the office. As I step into the empty hallway, I canât help but wonder how weâll find our way back to each other amidst this tangled mess of secrets and lies.
I lean my head against his closed door and breathe.
Part of me wants to hate Alexander, and most of me hates his father. But if itâs true, and Alexander really had no idea what his father was up to, is it fair for me to hold this against him?
What would Dad think?
A wave of pain hits me. My father lost everything, and it ruined him. After his company fell apart, he worked odd jobs as a copywriter. He never fully recovered. How can I possibly work for, much less care for, anyone who might have had a role in hurting him?
Alexander isnât responsible for his fatherâs actions, but he benefited from them. He benefited so much that heâs running what should have been my fatherâs company.
Should have been mine.
That wave of anger carries me to the edge of the hall before it implodes into hurt.
Alexander didnât know.
I could see it in his eyes as he apologized. The pain and rare vulnerability there told me he couldnât have possibly known. Iâve been punishing us both out of loyalty to my father, but while Alexanderâs father is scum, he never forced my father to pick up a bottle.
My dad made his own bad choices, too.
And theyâre not Alexanderâs fault or mine.
Instead of walking down to the parking lot, I turn around and walk back to Alexanderâs office. I knock on the door.