Chapter 9 #2
I freeze, unsure where to even begin. How do I explain Alexander?
He’s too many things all at once. A man I should run from, but the only one who’s ever looked at me like I mattered.
Cold. Dangerous. Untouchable. And yet… he makes me weak.
Makes me think about him when I shouldn’t, when I swore I wouldn’t.
Tyler tilts his head, waiting. I stay quiet.
“So is he some big shot or what? Why did he send his personal assistant here? And how the hell does someone book you an audiology appointment before you even knew you needed one?”
“I don’t know how to explain it in a way you’ll understand,” I sign, then rub a hand over my face.
He doesn’t back down. His eyes are sharp, cutting.
“You met some guy. Some rich guy. His assistant shows up at your door. He books your medical appointments like it’s nothing. And you still don’t know how to explain him?” His hands slice through the air, accusing.
“Of course I do.”
But I don’t. Not really.
Tyler narrows his eyes. “Is he gay?”
The question stuns me. My chest tightens. Is he?
“Does he even know that you’re gay?” he presses, his gaze holding mine like he can see straight through me.
My lips press together. I don’t know what Alexander knows. I don’t know anything, except how he makes me feel, and that’s the problem.
His expression shifting, thoughtful now.
“The day you went to see your mom,” he signs slowly. “Your phone was off. You didn’t come home. And when you did, you smelled like…” his nose wrinkles. “Like expensive perfume. The kind you only find in glass cases.”
My stomach knots. Of course, he noticed. Of course, he connected it.
“You stayed at his place,” he accuses.
I hesitate, heat creeping up my neck. Still, I nod. His eyes widen, ready to explode but I cut him off before he can.
“No. We didn’t—nothing happened. It’s not like that. So get your mind out of the gutter.”
“You have feelings for this man,” Tyler signs slowly, his hands deliberate, his face calm, like he’s not accusing me, just realizing something out loud.
What? No. Absolutely not.
Just because Alexander happens to be ridiculously attractive, and just because I can’t stop thinking about him lately, even when I try to shove him out of my head—that doesn’t mean I have feelings for him. That would be… stupid. Dangerous.
“I don’t have feelings for him” I sign back, sharper than I intend, exhaustion pulling at my shoulders. “Can we please drop this? We have bigger things to deal with, like the woman standing outside my door right now.”
Tyler gives me this look I can’t stand—a soft, pitying curve of his mouth, like he knows something about me that I’m still refusing to see. He sighs, and my stomach twists.
“I want new hearing aids,” I sign before he can respond, my movements tighter, more desperate.
“It’s been hell working, sitting in class, pretending I can catch up—without them.
But getting ones that actually work for me, with all the consultations and tests…
It’s way above my budget right now. And I don’t have insurance to cover it. ”
Tyler’s expression softens. His hands move more slowly now, steady, comforting. “Look, Lucas. If you trust him, then what’s the problem with letting him help? He offered, didn’t he?”
Trust. The word lands like a punch in my chest. Trust is not something I give freely. Trust is dangerous. I know he can see my hesitation because his lips twitch into a small smile.
“If you didn’t trust him at least a little, you wouldn’t have spent the night at his place.”
I bite down hard on my lip, shame heating my face. That night was… I wasn’t in my right mind. I was tired, cornered by too many things I couldn’t control, and he—Alexander—was there. That doesn’t mean I trust him.
“I don’t want to be indebted to him,” I finally sign, slower now, my chest heavy with the truth of it. “I don’t want to owe him anything.”
Tyler shrugs, a little helpless.
“From what I see, he’s not making it a debt. Also, his assistant has been waiting out there for a while now.”
Shit. I completely forgot Ashley was still standing in the hallway.
I drag in a shaky breath, trying to gather the shards of my pride before they splinter further.
“Fine,” I sign, my movements careful. “Tell her she can come in. I… I need to get ready.”
He studies me a beat too long, like he wants to say more, but then he just nods and heads for the door. As soon as his back is turned, I press a hand against my chest, willing my heart to slow down. Because no matter how much I keep insisting this is only about the hearing aids—
It isn’t. And that terrifies me. I’ll accept them because I need them. I’ll survive with them. But one way or another, I’ll pay him back. I have to.
* * *
God, what am I even doing here? I’ve asked myself this question a hundred times today, but now, sitting in this clinic, it feels louder, heavier, and impossible to shake.
The place reeks of money. Even the air is expensive, laced with the scent of polished wood and a sterile, calming fragrance that’s probably meant to put patients at ease.
It doesn’t work on me. The floors shine like glass, the waiting chairs are plush, and the receptionist gives a rehearsed, professional smile that I can tell isn’t real.
Ashley walks ahead of me with the kind of composure that makes me feel small. She moves like she belongs here, like she’s done this exact thing a hundred times before. Maybe she has. Maybe Alex has sent her on errands like this for people who matter more, people who deserve it more.
Not me.
The drive here was silent. She didn’t ask me anything, didn’t try to make small talk. And maybe I’m grateful for that, but the quiet only left me drowning in my own thoughts.
I clutch the notebook in my lap—the one from Alex’s place. I should’ve returned it the morning he dropped me home, but I didn’t. I kept writing in it, like it tethered me to something I shouldn’t want. Something dangerous.
I shouldn’t be here.
I shouldn’t have let him do this for me.
The receptionist hands Ashley a stack of forms, and Ashley fills them out with quick, neat strokes. She doesn’t hesitate, doesn’t glance back at me for confirmation. And why would she? I’m not the one paying. That truth hits me like a blow, sinking into my stomach like a stone.
The receptionist’s curious eyes flicker to me for a second, but she doesn’t ask me to sign a single thing. I’m invisible here. A guest. A responsibility.
My gaze drifts to the door leading to the exam rooms. I should get up. Walk out. I’ve lived this long with a cheap hearing aid that barely works. I’ve survived the silence, the blur, the constant guesswork. I can keep surviving. Why should I let Alex interfere?
Oh fuck me… when did I start calling him Alex instead of Alexander?
My phone vibrates in my pocket. I take it and look at the screen, then grip the phone so hard when I see it’s a text from my mother.
For Christ’s sake.
There’s a tap on my shoulder that almost made me jump. I glance up, and it’s Ashley. She mouths a “let’s go in,” and I nod.
The private exam room is just as luxurious as the waiting area—sleek wooden panels, minimalist furniture, the kind of space designed to make rich people feel comfortable. There’s a coffee station in the corner and a massive window overlooking the city skyline.
The tests are straightforward, checking my current hearing capacity, the level of loss, and which frequencies I can pick up.
Almost the same routine I went through during my hardest time five years ago.
I swallow hard, trying to focus on what’s going on in the room, pushing back memories that will take me to the dark place I work to get out of.
My skin itches.
The fitting is strange, almost surreal. The moment the device is placed behind my ear and switched on, the world changes. It’s weird at first, then scratchy, but with a few adjustments, it sounds clearer.
I hear the rustle of paper, the click of the doctor’s pen, the hum of the air conditioning. And Ashley, her voice. Even my old hearing aid was not as clear as this.
“Are you alright, Lucas?” she asks. I catch the exact tone of her voice- smooth, professional, tinged with quiet efficiency. But also a hint of concern.
I nod, but my throat tightens instantly.
My eyes sting. My hands tremble in my lap.
There’s a pressure sitting at the back of my throat, a cry begging to escape, but I force it down.
I will not break here. Not in front of them.
I hate that the only reason I’m even sitting in this chair, the only reason I’m hearing her voice this clearly, is him.
Alexander.
I rub at my face, exhaling shakily.
The doctor discusses adjustments, fine-tuning, and follow-up appointments.
His lips move, his voice reaches me clearer than I’ve ever heard before, but the words blur in my mind.
All I can think about is a penthouse, a too-quiet drive, and the way Alex looks at me like he’s already decided I belong to him.
I blink quickly and nod, pretending I understand.
Ashley watches me carefully. Her eyes flicker to my hands as they tremble faintly against my notebook, but she doesn’t say a word.
By the time we leave the clinic, the noise in my head feels unbearable.
The voices too sharp, footsteps too heavy, doors too loud.
My chest feels stuffed with thoughts I can’t sort through. Thoughts of him. Always him.
And then I see him.
My heart does a stupid flip.
He’s leaning against a black G-Wagon. Arms crossed, posture still, radiating that quiet control that makes the whole world feel like it bends around him.
He’s dressed in black again—tailored coat, expensive boots, sharp lines that cut against the cold air. He doesn’t need to do anything to draw attention. He simply exists, and it’s impossible not to look.