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They didn't take long to catch their breath before returning to each other. Alexander claimed her lips once more. Their kiss deepened, tongues tracing needy patterns that quickly grew more urgent.
Alexander’s hands slid down her back, pressing her closer until their bodies were flush, every inch demanding to be closer still. Yalda could feel the strength beneath his frailty; the hard lines of his collarbone, the faint pulse of life still fierce beneath his pale skin.
Her breath hitched as his fingers dug into the fabric at her waist, pulling her impossibly closer. The ache inside her grew unbearable, the craving for him, the wildfire ignited anew after months of cold absence. She clung to him, surrendering to the torrent of sensation, the wild, aching need that threatened to consume them both.
Alexander’s hands roamed with tentative urgency, seeking and finding familiar places; her nape, the small of her back, the curve of her hip. Every touch spoke of a love buried too long, of moments stolen and lost.
She melted into him, the world narrowing to the heat of their skin, the taste of his mouth, the steady thrum of his heartbeat beneath her palm.
Their breathing grew ragged, mingled gasps and murmurs echoing softly in the quiet room. But just as the heat between them threatened to overwhelm, Alexander’s grip faltered. His lips left hers with a slow, reluctant slide, lingering for a breathless moment before he pulled back, his eyes clouded with torment.
He reached up to brush a trembling hand across his face, as if to steady himself against the wave of emotion. His gaze dropped, avoiding hers, but the pain in his eyes was unmistakable.
“Yalda…” he began, voice rough and low, barely a whisper.
She reached out instinctively, desperate to hold him, to pull him back into the moment, but he backed away, the distance between them growing like a wound.
He ran a hand through his hair, a gesture so human, so painfully vulnerable. “You have someone else,” he said quietly, not accusing, not bitter, just a man wrestling with his own heart. “Someone who cares for you… someone's that's good for you."
Yalda’s breath caught, her heart twisting painfully at the mention of Ioannis. She swallowed hard, feeling the sharp sting of guilt and sorrow crash over her.
Alexander’s eyes met hers, haunted, raw, full of the impossible weight of what he was trying to do. “You stand to lose so much by being here with me,” he said, voice trembling with the effort of restraint. “I don’t want to be the reason you lose what you’ve found… not now, not like this.”
There was no anger in his tone, no bitterness. Just a desperate plea, a man trying to do what was right even when every fiber of him screamed otherwise.
Yalda’s throat tightened as tears welled up, blurring her vision. She wanted to argue, to tell him that none of that mattered, that she needed to be with him here. She shook her head. The weight of the moment settling deep inside her like a wound that wouldn’t heal.
"I won't leave." She said once more, voice quiet.
She wouldn't leave, but the look in his eyes told her he wouldn't kiss her again, he wouldn't touch her. He was trying to be good for once in his life.
Alexander gave a small, sad smile.
“I’m sorry,” he whispered. “I wish things were different.”
Without another word, Yalda turned toward the door, each step heavy with pain. She could feel his eyes on her back, watching, longing, holding on.
The hallway outside was cold and silent, the stark fluorescent lights humming softly overhead. Yalda leaned against the wall, the weight of everything crashing down as fresh tears spilled unchecked.
She thought of Ioannis; steady, kind, the man who had stood beside her when Alexander hadn't. The man who loved her in ways that were patient and sure.
Her heart ached fiercely, torn between the past and the future, between what was lost and what might still be saved. She pressed her hands to her face, sobbing quietly in the emptiness.
And somewhere deep inside, a part of her wondered if she’d ever truly be whole again.
~~
The hospital room was dimmer now, the soft glow of the bedside lamp casting long shadows across the pale walls. Outside, the evening had settled like a velvet curtain, muffling the sounds of the bustling city beyond the windows.
Yalda stood silently at the door for a moment, steadying herself, brushing away the last traces of tears she’d shed in the cold, lonely hallway.
She had let the grief wash over her, raw and unrelenting, but now she was exhausted, numb.
Slowly, she crossed the threshold and saw Alexander resting, his eyes closed, the slight rise and fall of his chest a fragile promise that he was still here.
“Alexander,” she said softly, voice barely more than a whisper.
His eyelids fluttered open, and for a moment his gaze was distant, drifting on the edges of sleep. Then, recognition sparked in his eyes, brightening like a small, precious flame.
“Yalda,” he murmured, voice rough but steady. “You’re back.”
“I am,” she replied, pulling the chair beside his bed closer. She sat down and reached for his hand, the familiar warmth grounding her in the moment.
He squeezed her fingers gently. “Did you stop crying?”
She gave a faint, tired smile. “I did. For now.”
The silence stretched comfortably between them, filled with the quiet understanding of shared pain and unspoken promises.
“I’m not going to leave,” Yalda said after a breath, she needed him to know and accept this, her voice firm despite the lingering vulnerability beneath it. “Not now. Not ever.”
Alexander’s eyes searched hers, a flicker of something like relief passing through them, mingled with sadness.
“Thank you,” he said quietly. “I want you here.”
Yalda’s heart fluttered, the weight of the moment pressing in.
“I want to be with you,” she told him. A long time had passed but nothing had changed. She still wanted to be with him.
He managed a tired smile. “Tomorrow, I’m going back to my penthouse.”
She blinked, surprised.
“I don’t want to spend the rest of my time in a hospital room,” he explained, voice steady despite the frailty. “The penthouse… it’s where I feel most myself. It’s where I want to be.”
Yalda’s mind raced, a jumble of memories flooding back. She hadn’t thought she would ever go back there. Not after everything. But now, the thought of it stirred something fragile yet fierce inside her.
Alexander’s eyes met hers again, searching, hopeful.
“Will you come with me?” he asked softly. “I don’t
want to be alone.”
Yalda hesitated only a moment before nodding. “Yes. I’ll go with you.”
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