Chapter 25
CHAPTER 25
A lexander’s heart was racing, his chest tight with a feeling he could scarcely name. Lydia was so close to him, their hands still clasped, their fingers intertwined in a way that felt both natural and thrilling. He had never imagined such a moment—never dared to hope for it. But here it was, unfolding before him in a way that felt inevitable.
Her smile had lit something inside him, something he had long buried, and the warmth of her touch, her presence, seemed to melt away every ounce of the distance he’d spent years creating between himself and the world. For so long, his life had been driven by duty, by obligation. He had never allowed himself the luxury of longing. But in this moment, as his lips brushed against hers, all of that seemed irrelevant.
Her kiss was soft, hesitant at first, but he could feel her responding, drawing him closer with each passing second. There was a sweetness in her touch, a quiet intimacy that made his heart swell with a joy he had never known before. As their kiss deepened, his body felt alive with a warmth that spread from his chest to his fingertips, and for the first time in what felt like forever, he was truly happy .
The thought came to him in a rush, surprising even himself: This is what it should have always been. He felt as though the world had opened up before him, revealing a future he had never dared to imagine—a future with her, with them —a future where the weight of his past might finally be lifted. The idea of sharing that future with Lydia seemed less like a dream and more like a promise.
He pulled her closer, his arms wrapping around her waist as he deepened the kiss, his mind spinning with thoughts of possibilities. Could this be real? Was it possible? The weight of his past, the man he had been—it all felt so far away now. There was only this moment, this shared silence between them, and the soft pressure of her lips against his.
Lydia responded with a softness that made him feel as though she, too, was beginning to believe it. She pressed into him, her hands sliding up his chest to his shoulder, and for a moment, he felt her warmth, her heart beating in time with his. He could feel the way she pulled him closer, as though she, too, wanted to be swallowed by the moment.
But just as the world seemed to fall away completely, as though they were the only two people left in existence, a sudden cry shattered the silence.
“NO!” Eammon’s voice rang out, sharp and full of terror.
Lydia pulled back immediately, her expression faltering as she turned toward the source of the cry. Alexander’s heart lurched in his chest. Without thinking, he released Lydia’s hand and moved toward the door, his mind only on Eammon.
Lydia followed swiftly behind him, both of them rushing up the stairs, past the still-echoing corridors, toward the boy’s room.
They found him in his bed, thrashing restlessly, his small form wracked with silent sobs. The sight of him so distressed struck Alexander with the force of a blow. His heart clenched, and he felt a pang of guilt twist in his chest.
“Eammon,” Alexander said, his voice soft but firm as he moved toward the boy’s side. Lydia was beside him almost immediately, her hand reaching out to soothe the child.
The boy’s eyes were wide, tears streaming down his face as he clutched at the blankets. “It’s… it’s too dark,” Eammon choked out, his voice hoarse from fear. “Daidí! Mammy!”
Lydia sat beside him, gathering him into her arms, speaking soothingly. “It’s all right, Eammon. You’re safe, darling.”
Alexander stood back for a moment, watching as Lydia comforted the boy, her hands brushing his hair back from his forehead with such gentleness that it made his heart ache. She was so tender with him, so natural in her role as caretaker, and for a moment, Alexander could only watch in awe.
He moved to the other side of the bed and sat beside them. Eammon was still trembling, his eyes wide and frightened, but Lydia’s steady presence seemed to calm him slowly. Alexander could feel a wave of protective instinct rise within him, one that he had never fully understood until this very moment. It was instinctual, like the surge of a storm. And Lydia, somehow, made him feel like the storm had passed, that peace could return.
After a long few minutes, Eammon’s breathing steadied, the tears on his cheeks beginning to dry. He was still clinging to Lydia, his small arms wrapped around her as though she were the only anchor in the world.
“Better now?” Lydia asked softly, her voice warm with comfort.
Eammon sniffled and nodded, his eyes still wide but losing the sharp edge of fear. “Yes. I’m sorry. I was dreaming about my mammy and daidi. They fell into a big dark hole…”
“It is alright,” Lydia said. “They are up there in the heavens, watching you, I promise.”
How could she sound so convincing as if she truly knew such as thing as heaven existed? Still, her confidence made Eammon calmer. In turn, Alexander could feel the tightness in his chest loosen. The nightmare had passed, and with it, the deep sense of helplessness that always accompanied a child’s fear. He glanced at Lydia, their eyes meeting in a quiet understanding. For a fleeting moment, it felt as though the entire world had shrunk to this room, this boy, and the two of them—bound together by more than duty or circumstance.
Lydia gently laid Eammon back down, smoothing the covers over him with a soft kiss to his forehead. “Rest now, darling,” she whispered. “We’re both here.”
Eammon’s eyes fluttered closed, his breathing evening out as he finally succumbed to sleep. Lydia stood slowly, her hands lingering on his shoulders as she straightened.
Alexander rose, stepping toward her. “Let me walk you to your room,” he said, his voice gentle but resolute. There was a softness in his tone now, an affection that hadn’t been there before.
She smiled up at him, nodding in agreement. They moved quietly through the halls, the house now dark and still, save for their footsteps echoing in the silence. The atmosphere was different now—heavier with something unspoken, but charged with a quiet energy that made his heart beat faster.
They reached her door, and Alexander paused, turning to face her. His eyes were darker now, a mixture of longing and something more. Without thinking, he reached for her hand, pulling her gently toward him.
For a moment, they simply stood there, the silence between them both fragile and electric. Then, without a word, he kissed her again, this time slower, deeper, as though savoring the sweetness of the moment. The kiss was full of everything he had been holding back—the hope, the yearning, the promise of something more.
When they finally pulled apart, Lydia’s breath was shallow, her lips parted in quiet surprise. She looked up at him, her eyes soft, full of something that made Alexander feel as though they were standing on the edge of something far greater than either of them had expected.
“Goodnight,” she whispered, her voice trembling ever so slightly.
“Goodnight,” he replied, his hand lingering on hers for a moment longer before he let go.
And as he turned to leave, a feeling of certainty settled over him, one he couldn’t ignore. He had been right before—it was all beginning. And whatever this was, whatever had begun tonight, he knew it was only the start of something far more profound.