"Sofia!"
My voice came out so shrill I barely recognized it.
Both of them turned toward me.
Sofia blinked with those innocent, wide eyes. "Mommy!"
And Alexander—
He looked up, those brown eyes locking directly onto mine.
Time froze.
Five years.
Five years, and he looked exactly the same. Still devastatingly handsome, still dangerous, still... making my pulse spiral out of control.
But now his eyes held shock, disbelief, and something else I didn't dare name.
"What are you doing outside?" My voice trembled. "Didn't I tell you to stay in the house?"
I had to get her away from him. Now. This instant.
Before he put the pieces together.
"My ball rolled over the fence," Sofia held up her pink ball, completely oblivious to my terror. "This nice man helped me get it back. He's really kind! Mommy, his name is Alexander, and he lives right—"
"We're going inside." I cut her off, practically lunging forward to sweep her into my arms.
"But Mommy—"
"Now."
Sofia flinched at my sudden severity, her little mouth quivering.
I clutched her against me, turningto flee.
"Anna."
His voice—low, rough, carrying that achingly familiar timbre.
My feet refused to move.
Don't turn around. Don't look at him.
But my body betrayed me, and I slowly pivoted back.
He had risen to his full height, his imposing silhouette casting long shadows in the morning sun. Those brown eyes bore into mine as if they could strip away every secret I'd buried.
"It is you," he said, his voice thick with certainty, wonder, and something carefully restrained. "It's really you."
My throat constricted. Not a single word would come.
We stared at each other across the divide of five years, and suddenly it all came rushing back.
That night—his kiss, his touch, the way he'd made me feel alive.
The panic of the next morning, that pathetic note I'd left behind, the way I'd fled like a thief in the night.
