4. Chapter 3
Chapter 3
Elena
T he host walks up as I wait to be seated. He insists that all of the tables have been booked. I’d need to share a table for dinner tonight. I don’t want to make small talk with a stranger, but I haven’t eaten much since leaving my house in the early morning hours to catch my flight. My stomach grumbles so loud that I’m sure others can hear it. So I step into the lavish dining room and follow the host. The warm glow of candlelight reflecting off crystal glasses catches my eye. Then as I take the offered seat, my eyes lock onto a familiar figure, broad shoulders accentuated by a tailored suit. He lowers his menu and my heart skips a beat.
“Alex? Is that really you?” The words tumble out, disbelief lacing my tone.
He turns, those deep brown eyes I know so well widening in surprise. A thousand emotions flood through me—joy, longing, confusion...and an echo of the pain from our past.
Alex’s expression shifts, eyebrows furrowing. “Elena,” he breathes out, saying my name like a prayer. We sit frozen, the world around us fading away until he breaks the trance. “What are you doing here?”
I open my mouth, so many questions swirling in my mind, but the words catch in my throat. Did he lure me onto this cruise, knowing I’d eventually come to Alaska? Doubts start creeping in before I shake my head. “I could ask you the same thing. Did you arrange this?”
Alex’s jaw tightens, a flash of frustration in his eyes. “You think I’m behind this?” He lets out a mirthless chuckle. “Believe me, coming on this little excursion wasn’t my idea. I was invited.”
I blink, caught off guard. “Wait...what? I was invited too.” Realization starts to dawn as the pieces click into place. We both stare at each other, a silent understanding passing between us. This isn’t a coincidence—someone wants us here together.
Just like old times, we’ve found a puzzle to unravel, a path to hike until we know where it leads. I search his eyes, those deep pools of molten chocolate that I could drown in, seeing the same fierce determination that first drew me to him all those years ago. That strength that made me believe he could take on the world. “Alright then,” I say, squaring my shoulders and pushing aside the flutter in my chest at being this close to him again. I can’t afford any distractions right now. “I guess we should start comparing those invitations and figure out who’s behind this little game.”
“You think this is a game?” Alex asks.
“What would you call it?” I whisper almost afraid of his answer.
“Fate righting a wrong?”
“Don’t say that.” I look around. A part of me wants to leave. I don’t want to have this conversation with Alex in a public setting. The noise of the diners around us breaks through as though someone just hit the mute button for a second time. But I don’t want to make a scene.
“Okay then,” Alex says, his voice quieter, “what do you think it is?”
“Someone playing a cruel joke,” I say around the lump in my throat.
“Cruel joke?” Alex repeats in a hollow tone. “Because your Pack needs you so much you can’t take a vacation?”
“My Pack?” I swallow hard, caught off guard by Alex’s response. Then realization dawns. “You think I still live with the Polar Bears?” My voice comes out quieter than I intended, tinged with disbelief.
Alex’s brow furrows as he studies me. “That’s where you went...” He trails off, jaw tensing before continuing. “I assumed you found a place with your own kind.”
A humorless laugh escapes my lips. “My own kind?” I shake my head as an old ache in my chest resurfaces. “The Polars were no more ‘my kind’ than the Kodiaks, Alex. I didn’t belong there any more than I did on the island.”
Realization dawns in his eyes, followed by a flash of regret. “Elena, I...” He pauses as the server approaches our table. We both glance up, distracted from the weight of our conversation.
“Good evening,” the server greets us. “Have you had a chance to look over our menu?”
I meet Alex’s gaze, that unspoken connection still humming between us after all this time. “The elk steak,” we both say in unison, my lips quirking up in a faint smile at the familiarity of it all.
The server blinks, clearly taken aback by our synchronized order before nodding. “An excellent choice. It’s our signature dish—elk tenderloin with a blackberry demi-glace and roasted fingerling potatoes.” He jots it down. “Anything else I can get for you this evening?”
“Just water for me,” I reply, my throat is dry.
“A Johnny Walker Red neat for each of us.”
I shoot a glare at Alex who doesn’t even shrug in response.
With a polite smile, the server excuses himself, leaving us alone once more with the weight of our unresolved past hanging between us. “If we are about to discover some uncomfortable truths, we both need a drink.”
I want to argue. Tell him he has no right to speak for me after all these years. But damn if he doesn’t still know my favorite drink. Or maybe it’s my favorite drink because of him. Because of the times, we’d sneak a bottle of that whiskey to our favorite place to watch the northern lights. The whiskey burn was a nice shot of warmth against the chill of the Alaskan nights.
“I don’t think whiskey will help.”
“Because the dining room is too warm? Or because we aren’t looking up at the northern lights?” Alex quips proving his thoughts had returned to those nights too.
“Maybe both,” I say as we share a smile.
The server returns to set the drinks before us. Without hesitation, Alex raises the glass. “Bon Voyage.”