Julian's voice came out sharper than he intended. "What the hell is wrong with you?"
Alex didn't flinch. She simply stared past him, her expression unreadable. When she finally spoke, her voice was cool — dangerously calm.
"Nothing's wrong. You just don't get it, that's all."
Julian leaned back, frustration tightening his jaw. "Get what exactly? That you're mad for no reason?"
Alex gave a small, humorless laugh. Then she turned her head away again, staring at the far wall as if it suddenly became the most interesting thing in the world. She wasn't going to explain herself — not to him.
Julian wanted to argue, to demand she speak, but something in her tone — or maybe the way her fingers clenched under the table — stopped him. He sighed and rubbed a hand over his face.
"Wife," he said softly this time. "Talk to me."
"I don't have anything to say, Blackwood."
And that was that. The wall was back up. She had built it fast — faster than he could understand.
Julian's phone rang, breaking the silence like a blade through glass.
He didn't even glance at Alex before answering.
"Yeah?"
His tone shifted — first confusion, then alarm, then… something softer.
"We'll be there soon," he said finally and hung up.
Alex arched an eyebrow. She wished she didn't have to ask but she was curious. "Who was that?"
Julian hesitated. "My mother. She—uh—said it was urgent."
Alex frowned, surprised. Elizabeth Blackwood had always struck her as a woman who didn't panic easily. "Is she okay?"
"She didn't say." His jaw tightened. "Just that she needs to see us."
Us. The word echoed in her head. She wanted to correct him but didn't bother. Instead, she folded her arms. "Fine. Let's go."
The drive was silent except for the soft hum of the Porsche. The tension between them was thick enough to choke on. Alex could feel Julian's sideways glances, but she wasn't in the mood. Whatever charm he thought he had, it wasn't working on her right now.
When they finally pulled up to the Blackwood estate, Alex felt a strange mix of relief and apprehension. Elizabeth's home was grand but not intimidating — warm cream walls, ivy creeping over stone, and a faint scent of roses that always hung in the air. It was the kind of place that made her feel safe.
Elizabeth was already standing at the entrance, dressed elegantly as always, a soft smile on her lips. But there was something else in her eyes — something mischievous.
"My darlings," she said as they approached, her voice dripping with motherly affection. "You're here."
Julian immediately frowned. "You said it was urgent, Mother. What's wrong?"
Elizabeth's hand flew to her chest. "Can't a mother call her son without you assuming the worst?"
Julian's eyes narrowed. "You said you needed to see us immediately."
Elizabeth sighed dramatically. "Yes, well… perhaps I exaggerated a little." Her eyes twinkled as they moved from her son to Alex. "I just wanted to see how you two were getting along."
Alex almost smiled. Almost. She caught the look of horror on Julian's face and fought the urge to laugh.
"Mother," Julian said, exasperated. "You scared me."
"Well," she replied lightly, "If I'd said, 'Come have lunch with me,' would you have come this fast?"
Julian groaned softly, rubbing his temple. "You can't keep doing this."
Elizabeth waved him off. "Oh, stop sulking. Come in, both of you. I made lunch."
Alex hesitated but followed. The familiar scent of cinnamon and freshly baked bread filled the dining room. For the short time she'd known her, Elizabeth always had a way of making even silence feel comfortable.
"Sit, my dear," Elizabeth said, gesturing to the chair beside her. "You look lovely, Alex."
"Thank you," Alex murmured, taking a seat. She felt herself relax almost immediately. Elizabeth's kindness had that effect on her.
Julian sat across the table, still visibly annoyed, though Alex suspected he wasn't half as angry as he wanted to seem.
"So," Elizabeth began as she poured them both a drink. "How's married life treating you?"
Julian nearly choked on air.
"C'mon mother, we just got married yesterday."
Alex just looked down, hiding a smirk.
Elizabeth's eyes sparkled. "Yes yes, but that doesn't mean anything. So, answer me."
"She's impossible, as usual."
Alex looked at him sharply. "Excuse me?"
Elizabeth chuckled. "Ah, there it is. The spark. I knew it wouldn't take long."
Julian sighed. "Mother, you're reading too much into things."
"Am I?" she said, raising an elegant brow. "Because I sense tension."
Alex stiffened slightly, her fingers tracing the rim of her glass. "It's nothing. Just… a disagreement."
Elizabeth studied her closely. "You don't strike me as someone who argues without a reason, dear."
Julian muttered something under his breath that sounded suspiciously like she doesn't need one.
Alex shot him a glare that could cut through steel. Elizabeth noticed but chose not to comment. Instead, she smiled warmly and reached over, placing her hand gently on Alex's.
"Sweetheart, don't let my son frustrate you. He's always been stubborn — gets it from his father."
That earned the faintest smile from Alex. "I can imagine."
Julian frowned. "Mother—"
"Don't 'Mother' me," she interrupted smoothly. "You should be grateful Alex even tried to put up with you."
Alex tried to suppress her laugh but failed. The sound was soft, genuine — something Julian hadn't heard from her before. He looked at her, a little stunned.
Elizabeth noticed that too. "Ah," she said with a knowing smile, "there it is. I was beginning to think I'd never see you smile around him."
Alex looked away quickly. "He gives me very little reason to."
Elizabeth laughed lightly. "Fair enough."
Lunch continued in comfortable silence. Elizabeth talked about her garden, the new roses she'd planted, and the neighbors who kept trying to outdo her with their fountains. Alex listened, responding here and there, completely at ease.
Julian barely spoke. He just watched — the way Alex's eyes softened when Elizabeth spoke, the way her guard slipped without her noticing. For once, she wasn't defensive or distant. She hadn't been this warm, not even when she'd made breakfast for him that morning.
When they finished eating, Elizabeth stood and motioned toward the balcony. "Come, both of you. Let's get some air."
The afternoon sun spilled across the garden, warm and golden. Alex leaned on the railing, breathing in the scent of the roses. Elizabeth stood beside her, her voice gentle.
"You don't like to open up, do you?" she asked quietly.
Alex blinked. "What makes you say that?"
Elizabeth smiled knowingly. "A mother knows. You carry your pain like it's armor."
Alex didn't respond. There wasn't anything to say.
Elizabeth touched her hand softly. "You don't have to explain yourself, dear. Just… don't let the armor turn into walls. Sometimes the right person slips through when you least expect it."
Alex followed her gaze toward Julian, who was pretending not to stare at them. She sighed. "I'll try," she said finally.
"That's all I ask."
Elizabeth smiled, content. "Now go on, you two. Spend the day together. Try not to kill each other."
Julian groaned, but Alex — for the first time — didn't argue.
As they walked back to the car, she caught herself glancing at him. She hated that Elizabeth's words lingered.
Maybe walls did keep people out. But maybe — just maybe — they also kept her trapped inside.