Suddenly, I was enveloped in Alexander’s warm embrace, his strong arms holding me up at the moment I felt my weakest. I leaned heavily against him, grateful for the comfort he offered, grateful that he believed me.
I allowed myself to cry—to grieve the life that had been stolen from me and all the choices I had made that had led me to that fate.
Everything since my second chance began had been so rushed, so urgent. I hadn’t had time to truly process what I had experienced. And I knew I still couldn’t fully process it now.
But at least I had this moment.
“I can’t imagine how hard it was for you to tell me all of this,” Alexander said gently when I finally pulled away from his arms. I took another tissue to clean my face and averted my gaze, feeling incredibly embarrassed.
