Chapter 11
ALEK
Five Days Later
God, I miss her.
It’s been a tense five days since Hope expressed her need for space. She and I have barely spoken or addressed our conversation. We’re not fighting, no. Instead, we tiptoe around each other with pleasant smiles and polite words.
The effortless chats and laughter are gone. There’s been no physical affection. No stolen kisses. No making love.
All the good stuff has been replaced by a strained cordiality that's wearing me thin.
I'm a mess.
Plus, my brain's stuck in a worry loop. She's catching Ubers to her doctor’s appointments instead of riding with me. Don't get me wrong, her steps toward independence are exactly what I've hoped for. I'm happy she's piecing her life back together because I never wanted her to feel like a caged bird.
I just want to be along for this part of her journey, and it feels like I'm being iced out.
So yeah, I'm proud but also panicked of becoming irrelevant in Hope's colorful world.
And now, apparently, she's got the green light from her neurologist to start working again—with conditions. Zane's wife, Fiona, offered her a gig as a host at her fine-dining restaurant, Gus. It's perfect, really. She'll earn some money in the high-end establishment and won't be subjected to The Mission's sensory overload.
Tonight's her first shift.
As Hope's about to head out, looking gorgeous in a black, fitted dress, I muster up a weak, "You look beautiful. Good luck tonight."
God. My attempt at normalcy feels so forced. Even to my ears.
She pauses. "Thanks, Alek. I... Do you think I'll be okay?"
Hope wrings her hands, clearly anxious. I hate that she doubts herself.
"Absolutely." I paste on a smile. "You're going to be great. Fiona is lucky to have you."
Her grateful smile permeates her entire being, and she visibly relaxes. That's when it hits me. The distance between us is as much my doing as hers.
"I'll see you later?" She sounds almost hopeful as she reaches for the door.
My heart lightens a bit. "Yeah, see you later."
After she's gone, the silence in the apartment is deafening. I can't imagine living like this ever again. Needing to fill the void, I dial my dad. I let it all spill out: my fears, my insecurities, everything.
"Alek," Dad finally interrupts my rant. "You've got to remember, healing happens in layers. Hope needs to return to her own definition of normal. Your job? Whether you're her friend or her significant other, always be her anchor, not her chain."
"But what if she moves on? Realizes she doesn't want to be with me?"
There's a long pause before my dad speaks. "Son, relationships aren't static. They're tested, stretched, reshaped. If you survive this? You're set for the long haul."
"And if we don't?" I pinch the bridge of my nose with my fingers, trying not to cry.
His voice is soothing. "Then I'll help you pick up the pieces and move on."
Dad's words echo in my mind.
I pray that, on the other side of this struggle, Hope and I will have a stronger, deeper bond.
Only time will tell.
In the meantime, I'll stay the course.