Maria stood before the mirror in her bedroom, the one by the wardrobe in the corner. She barely recognised the woman staring back at her. Her hair was neatly tied. Her dress simple but elegant—one of the few Alexander had insisted she keep from the gift box he once sent.
She touched her cheek. She looked… calm. But inside, she was spinning.
Junior was thriving. Drawing every day. Eating well. Sleeping soundly.
But peace, Maria had learned, was not permanent.
Not when shadows whispered from Alexander's world.
Her phone buzzed. A message.
"Dinner at 7. Just you and me. Please say yes. — A."
Maria hesitated.
They hadn't had a moment alone since the elevator.
She typed and deleted three times before finally sending:
"Fine. But only dinner."
---
That evening, the restaurant was quiet, lit with soft golden lights and smooth jazz in the background. Alexander stood when she arrived.
"You look…" He stopped himself. "Thank you for coming."
Maria sat across from him. "Why now?"
"I want us to talk. Really talk. I know I wasn't fair to you back then."
"You didn't just leave me, Alexander. You left with everything I had. My body, my hope… my trust."
He nodded, guilt heavy in his eyes. "I know. And I won't ask for forgiveness. I'll earn it."
She sipped her drink. "There's another woman, isn't there? One of your kind. Rich. Polished. Pretty."
"Vanessa." His voice dropped. "We ended things long ago. But now she's back—and angry. She thinks I'm destroying my name for you."
Maria smiled sadly. "Maybe you are."
"No," he said firmly. "Maybe I'm saving it."
Their eyes locked. No lies. No pretense.
Just truth—and the weight of a choice neither had fully made.