CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT
ARES NICOLAIDES
IT HAD BEEN THREE DAYS.
Three days, and it felt like the world had come crashing down on me in one. Each passing moment felt like an eternity, filled with uncertainty and pain. I found myself sitting on the couch in my tattoo room, the silence echoing through the space.
My eyes were fixated on the painting she had done on the wall. The colours and brushstrokes seemed to dance before my eyes, but my heart was heavy with everything that had transpired. In the stillness of the room, memories of our time together flooded my mind.
The laughter, the love, and the moments that now felt like distant echoes of the past. I longed to reach out and touch her, to hold her close and tell her how much she meant to me. But the reality was that she was slipping away, and I couldn’t do anything to stop it.
Every brushstroke was a reflection of the passion and creativity that had brought us together. The colours were vibrant, just like the love that had once filled our hearts. But now, those colours seemed to fade, mirroring the fading memories of a love that once burned bright.
As I stare at the painting, a mix of emotions washes over me—sadness, longing, and a sense of helplessness. I wish I could turn back time, to when things were simpler, when she knew who I was, and when we were truly connected.
When I wasn’t a stranger to her.
But life had other plans, and now I am left grappling with the reality of our situation. The painting on the wall seemed to hold the answers I desperately sought, but it was just an artwork—an inanimate reminder of a love that was slipping away.
In the days that follows, I knew I had to find a way to cope with the pain instead of running from it. The painting on the wall would remain a cherished memory, but it was time to focus on finding strength in the present and hope for a future that might bring us back together, even if it meant starting anew.
But she doesn’t want that.
She broke up with me because I pushed her too far.
And Adonis warned me. He did. I just have a knack for not listening, for thinking I know my own wife. But the reality is, she isn’t my wife. Not anymore. She is-I am just a stranger to her. A man that met her a couple months ago.
I stand up, grabbing my jacket along. I quickly open my draw and take out my wedding ring before slipping it on, I haven’t worn this in so long. That it almost feels wrong. I head out of the room and pass by Aliza who was texting on her phone. “Close the store.” I speak.
“What?”
I walk down the pavement towards the bar, my thoughts consumed by the chaos inside me. Since she still had my car, I had no choice but to walk. I reach the bar and push the door open, greeted by a subdued atmosphere that contrasted with its usual liveliness. I made my way to the front and took a seat at the counter. Christian, the bartender, approached me with a knowing look.
“Usual, Ares?” He asks.
“Something stronger. Vodka. Just give me the whole bottle,” I replied, my voice heavy with the weight of my emotions.
Christian folds his arms across his chest, concern etched on his face. “You know that means I have to take your car keys, right?”
“I’m not driving. My wife took—I’m not driving,” I assure him, wanting to drown my pain in the sharpness of the alcohol.
He nods understandingly and turns around to fetch a bottle of vodka. Placing it in front of me, he hands me a glass of ice. Unscrewing the lid, he pours the clear liquid into the glass, and I wasted no time in consuming it. With each sip, I felt the fiery liquid course through my veins, numbing the pain and dulling my senses. I welcomed the burn with open arms, seeking something else to distract me from the heartache of losing her.
The bar seems to fade away as I sip my vodka, lost in my thoughts and regrets. I couldn’t bear the ache in my heart, the feeling of being torn apart from someone I love so deeply. But drowning my sorrows in alcohol wouldn’t solve anything, and I knew that deep down.
Yet, for that moment, I needed the temporary escape. The alcohol provides a fleeting respite from the pain, even if it was only for a short while. But I also knew that I couldn’t keep running away from my emotions. As I sat there, I wrestle with my feelings, trying to find a way to make sense of it all.
I wish I could turn back time, to when things were simpler and when we were blissfully in love. But I’ve said that before. Twice now. But life had dealt us a different hand, and I had to find a way to navigate the storm.
“Is everything alright with you and the Mrs?” Christian inquires, well aware of the ongoing situation between Alexandra and I. “She still doesn’t remember. I used to be her favourite bartender,” he chuckles.
“And I used to be her husband,” I answer, swirling the liquid in my glass.
“Used to be? Are you getting divorced?”
“I wouldn’t be surprised if she asked for it.”
Suddenly, I felt a hand on my shoulder, and I turn my head to see Adonis joining the seat beside me at the bar. “A glass, please,” he calls out to Christian. “Now, it’s been three days, and you haven’t spoken to a single person since.”
“He’s spoken to me,” Christian snickers, sliding the glass over to Adonis, who swiftly reached for the vodka bottle.
“You spoke to Christian before me? Wow, I thought I was your favourite,” Adonis teases, raising an eyebrow at me.
I gave him an unbothered look. “I came here to get away from everyone.”
“Ouch, again—you out here breaking hearts or something?” Adonis joked, taking a slow sip of the vodka.
I let out a weary sigh. “You have no idea.”
Adonis gave me a sympathetic smile. “I know it’s tough, man. But you can’t shut yourself off from the world forever. You need people, especially now.”
Adonis and Christian exchange a concerned glance as I pour another glass of vodka, my words heavy with emotion.
“I need her.”
She is all I wanted.
She is all that was on my mind.
She is what I need.
She is the only one that can repair my broken heart.
“I don’t need anyone else but her.”
Adonis’s comforting hand remains on my shoulder, his empathy evident in his eyes. Just as I try to find comfort in my drink, my phone on the table started buzzing loudly. For a fleeting moment, my heart races with hope that it might be her name flashing on the screen.
But instead, I saw ‘Aunt Coraline’ displayed.
Feeling disappointed, I quickly end the call, not in the mood to engage in conversation with anyone at that moment. I return to my drink, trying to drown out my thoughts in the numbing haze of vodka.
Adonis looks at me curiously. “Everything alright?”
The phone buzzes again, and I let out a sigh before reluctantly answering it. “Aunt Coraline, this isn’t a good time-”
“Where is she, Ares?” Her urgent tone caught me off guard.
“What do you mean?” I ask.
“Give me the phone to Alexandra right now,” she insists. “Her parents are on their way, and she isn’t answering the phone.”
My brows furrowed, and I sat up straight, the drink forgotten on the table. “Aunt Coraline, what do you mean? Alexandra left three days ago.”
“Oh god, Ares, she hasn’t come home since she left with you!” Her words hit me like a ton of bricks, and shock plastered across my face.
“What the hell do you mean she hasn’t come home?” I yell, my heart racing with concern.
“I—I don’t know where she is!” Aunt Coraline sounds genuinely worried. My mind races, trying to piece together the events of the past few days. It suddenly clicks, and my eyes widen with realisation.
“I know where she is. I’ll bring her,” I said urgently before ending the phone call. I reached for my wallet to grab my credit card, only to remember that she had it with her. “Adonis, pay the bill and give me your keys.” Adonis looks taken back.
Adonis looks taken aback for a moment, but he quickly nods in agreement. “Of course, I’ll pay the bill gladly.” He hands his credit card to Christian to settle the tab. “But you’re not driving my new car.”
“Are you fucking serious? My wife is missing.”
He shrugs his shoulder, “I’m driving, end of story.”
Christian hands Adonis his credit card back, and we quickly made our way to his car. With a heavy heart, I settle into the passenger seat, feeling helpless and anxious about what we would find.
“Where to?”
“The museum near Cane street.” He nods his head and begins to drive.
I couldn’t bear the thought of anything happening to her, and I felt a sense of urgency to find her and bring her back to safety.
“Can you drive faster?” I growl at him.
“Hey, this is a five hundred-thousand-dollar car.”
“I’ll buy three of these if you drive faster.”
“Including the fitted exhaust?”
I shoot him a death stare.
“Jeez, alright I’m driving.”
As we sped towards our destination, the minutes felt like hours. Each passing moment fills me with of hope and dread. I try to keep my emotions in check, but the fear the unknown is overwhelming.
Finally, we arrive at the place where I believe she would be. I step out of the car, slamming the door shut but then I see my car parked in the car park with at least four yellow tickets under the wipers. I enter the museum and make my way down to the private room in the back.
Finally, I see her sleeping on a bench in front of the painting.
She is wearing the same clothes she left in three days ago, and a bottle of whiskey lay on the floor beside her.
How was she even allowed to stay here for three days?
As I approach, another figure appears next to me—the security guard. He looks at me with a questioning gaze and asks, “can I help you?”
“Just here to pick up my wife,” I respond.
He nods and glances over at her. “She’s been here for three days, you know. We know it’s a twenty-four-seven museum, but-”
“So how did you let her stay here?” I interject.
“She actually bought the painting,” the security guard explains. “I wasn’t allowed to kick her out.”
My eyebrows furrow in surprise. She had bought the painting. That is unexpected, but it explains why the museum staff didn’t intervene to remove her.
“How did she pay?”
“She had a Black American Express card, I think?”
This woman.
“How much was the painting?”
“Over two hundred thousand dollars.” He speaks, “do you want me to package it up for you?”
I look back at her, feeling a surge of emotions. I couldn’t fathom what she might have been going through during those three days.
“No keep it here, and no one is allowed in this room except for her.”
“Alright.”
“Thank you,” I said to the security guard, my voice sincere. “I’ll take care of her from here.”
He nods, understanding the gravity of the situation, and left us to our privacy.
I approach her cautiously, not wanting to startle her awake. I knelt down beside her, gently brushing a strand of hair away from her face. My heart aches at the sight of her, and I couldn’t bear to see her in such distress.
She was drunk, or hungover.
And this happened because of me.
Because I pushed her over the edge.
“Alexandra,” I whisper softly, hoping my voice would reach her even in her slumber. “It’s me, Ares. I’m here now.”
She stirs slightly, and I see a flicker of recognition in her eyes as she slowly woke up. Confusion clouds her expression at first, but then her gaze met mine, and a mix of emotions washes over her face.
“Ares?” She croaks out; her voice filled with uncertainty. “You’re here…”
“Yes, I’m here,” I reassure her, gently taking her hand in mine. “I found you.”
Tears well up in her eyes as she looks at me, and my heart broke at the sight of her vulnerability. I knew that there were no easy answers or quick fixes, but in that moment, all I wanted is to be there for her, to support her, and to show her that she wasn’t alone.
With her hand in mine, I help her up from the bench, and she leans into my chest. I slowly lift her up bridal style and head back to the car, I reach outside, and Adonis hurries to open the back door for me.
“They’re towing your car-”
“Fuck my car.” I whisper, slipping inside with her in my arms.
The moment we started driving, she is fast asleep.
I drag my finger down her cheek, my heart slowly mending at the sight of her. Her eyes slowly open, locking with mine as she brings her hand up and rests it onto my jaw.
“I love you, Angel.” I whisper.
Her arms wrap around my neck and her face digs into it, “I love you…so much…” she mumbles into my ears. “You’re not a stranger to me…you could never be a stranger.”
And for the second time since I found out that she forgot me, a tear falls down my eyes and I hold onto her as if she were going to run again from me again.
I carefully carry her in my arms as I approach her parents’ house. The worry inside me relaxes as her parents’ car isn’t parked at the front, meaning she won’t be in any trouble. Aunt Coraline opens the door, her face immediately relaxing when she saw Alexandra in my arms.
She gestured for me to come inside, and I duck under the frame to enter, heading upstairs to her room. Gently, I push open the door to her bedroom and laid her down on her bed. My heart aches at the sight of her, still fast asleep and seemingly lost in her own world.
I went to her closet, intending to find fresh pyjamas for her as I had done so many times before. But in that moment, I realise I couldn’t remember where she kept them.
So instead, I took off my shirt and gently cover her with it, replacing the one she had been wearing, undoing her jeans I chuck them to the side. She wore no underwear; I head to her draws and pick a black one out before sliding it over her legs and around her waist.
She turns her body to face the wall, and I sat down on the edge of the bed, my heart heavy with emotions. The room felt suffocating, filled with unspoken words and the weight of our pain.
“I love you so much,” I whisper, my voice breaking. “To the point where my heart broke when you left. I blame myself for not being more careful on the road. If I had, maybe none of this would have happened. And I wouldn’t be a stranger to you. I would be your husband. The love of your life.”
I ran my hands through my hair, trying to find the right words.
“I see how much I’m hurting you, and it kills me. I vowed I’d never hurt you, but I’ve failed. I’ve hurt you more than everyone. And I don’t want that, I want to see you smile-I want to see you succeed in life and become the best painter…So, I’m going to let you go now, Alexandra Nicolaides. And don’t think this doesn’t break me because it does. This fucking ruins me. The love I have for you is unexplainable, but your happiness is worth more than my own. And so, they say, if you love her…let her go…Goodbye Alexandra.”
Tears well up in my eyes as I lean down and softly kiss her forehead, the final touch of a love that was both beautiful and painful. I rest my forehead on her for a moment, inhaling her scent. I stood up, my heart torn between wanting to stay and wanting to respect her need for space.
As I left her room, I saw her Aunt leaning against the wall. I couldn’t bear to look her in the eyes, knowing the pain she must be feeling as well. “Take care of her, okay?” I said, my voice choked with emotion. “And if she needs anything that you can’t give her, please call me. A car, a house, a job, anything. Just call me.”
Her aunt nodded; her eyes filled with sorrow.
“I love her.” I whisper. “You know that right, I’m doing this for her.”
“I know Ares.” She whispers, her hands touching my bare arms. “And she loves you so much, that she fell in love with you all over again. You are a good man, with a beautiful heart…”
“Take care of her.” She nods as I leave the house.
I open the door to my brothers car and slam it shut as we drove away. We drove in silence, I burry my face into my hands, trying to process the pain of letting go of the woman I loved. It felt like death itself, losing a part of my soul. But I knew deep down that this was the right decision for both of us.
I didn’t know what the future held, or if we would ever find our way back to each other. But for now, I had to let her go, to give her the space and time she needed to heal and find herself.
“What’s happening now?” Adonis whispers, his fingers tapping against the steering wheel- small thuds echoes into the car.
“It’s time to let her go. To end the plan. And the story.”