Cynthia paced the small corner of her apartment before heading to work that morning. Her heart was still pounding from the memory of the night before—the fight with Alexander replaying over and over
Why did it have to end like this? she thought, biting her lip. I know he meant well. He was trying to help"cynthia said to herself
She had rehearsed what she would say to him a hundred times. Every scenario ended the same way: her heart in her hands, her voice trembling, but Alexander's expression unreadable, his posture stiff, professional.
By the time cynthia brooks stepped into Voss Art & Media, her stomach was a knot of anxiety and anticipation.
The office hummed as usual printers whirring, colleagues murmuring, phones ringing but to Cynthia, it was all background noise. Her eyes scanned the office until they landed on him
Alexander. He stood near his office, reviewing papers with meticulous precision. His posture was perfect, composed, commanding the Alexander she had always known.
Her chest tightened.
She took a deep breath, trying to steady her voice, her hands, her courage. Then, she approached him.
"Alexander," she said softly, stopping just a few steps from his desk.
He looked up, and for a moment, the office seemed to pause. The distance between them felt impossibly large, yet achingly close.
"Cynthia," he said carefully, tone neutral, unreadable.
She swallowed. "Can we… talk?"
His eyes narrowed slightly, just enough to make her stomach flutter nervously. "About what?"
"About the night and yesterday....about us," she said, stepping a little closer. Her voice was low, almost a whisper. "Please… just hear me out."
Alexander didn't move. He didn't respond. But he didn't walk away either.
"I… I overreacted," she continued, her words tumbling out in a rush. "I know I did. I… I misunderstood what you were trying to do. And I—" She stopped abruptly, her throat tight. "I feel like I owe you an explanation. And… and maybe… forgiveness. I… I need you to understand."
He finally leaned back slightly in his chair, his arms folding across his chest. "Cynthia… it's not just about understanding. You were upset. I could see it. And you have every right to be."
"I know," she said, her voice trembling. "But… I don't want this to ruin everything. What happened—it was one night. One mistake, a misunderstanding.
Her hands were clenched at her sides. Her heart was pounding so fast she thought it might jump right out of her chest. She had never begged anyone like this before not Alexander. Not anyone. But she couldn't help it. Not after everything that had happened.
Alexander's expression softened slightly, though his voice remained measured. "Cynthia… you're asking me to forget how upset you were?
"Yes," she said, stepping even closer, her hands almost shaking.
He leaned back in his chair, eyes fixed on her. For a moment, silence filled the room—a heavy, almost suffocating quiet. Cynthia's breath hitched. She felt exposed, vulnerable, but she refused to step back. Not now. Not ever.
"Cynthia," he said finally, voice low and controlled, "you're… persistent."
"I am," she admitted, tears threatening to spill. "
He remained still for a moment, watching her. And then… something in his posture softened. His arms unfolded slightly, and he leaned forward just a fraction.
"Cynthia,i forgave you," he said quietly,
"But i hace something to tell you too"he saud as he stood up from his office chair and grabbed her wrist
Her heart skipped a beat. "okay? ," she whispered.
"I'm sorry about i said to you ,i fon't mean to be harsh . And I… I know I overreacted. ", alexander explained himself
"I know," she said softly, her eyes glistening.
He studied her for a long moment. The tension in his shoulders eased slightly. .