Danielle stared at the files spread across the desk, her fingertips hovering over the pages, unable to move. It wasn't that she didn't understand. She looked at Alexander, wanting to speak but not knowing what to say. Every word he’d spoken painted a picture of two people in love who had tragically missed their chance.
The atmosphere between them grew strange and tense. He was still doing all this for her, and she was at a loss for how to respond. It felt like an impossible situation.
She looked up at him, her lips parting, but she swallowed the words back down. Should she thank him? Thank him for his years of silent protection, for uncovering the people who were stalking her? The words felt too distant, too formal. Should she tell him she didn't need it? But he had already done so much. The files and the surveillance footage were laid out before her, undeniable proof.
They sat across from each other in silence, the unspoken words lodged in their throats, making them both uneasy. Danielle knew that everything Alexander was doing now was likely an attempt to make amends. But the chasm between them was filled with years of irreversible misunderstandings and pain—wounds that couldn't be erased with a simple “I was wrong.”
Sensing her hesitation, Alexander leaned forward slightly, his gaze softening as it rested on her tense profile. “You don’t have to feel burdened by any of this,” he said gently. “And you don’t need to give me an answer right away. I just wanted to tell you the truth. I hope you’ll be more cautious, and I hope you can try to trust me, just this once.”
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