Two Days Later - Sunday Evening

Alex sat on the edge of his couch, forearms resting on his knees, staring at the coffee table in front of him.

The city lights filtered through the window behind him, casting long shadows across the hardwood floor.

It had been two days since he walked out of Lila's apartment. He'd collapsed into his bed and slept like the dead.

For the first time in long, he'd really slept.

Not the restless, half-conscious drifting punctuated by racing thoughts and tangled anxiety.

Not the kind of sleep where Linda's voice echoed through his dreams, her confession replaying on an endless loop.

The weight that had been crushing his chest had finally lifted. Just enough. Just barely enough to let him breathe.

Lila was handled. The plan had worked. Sophia's scheme had been exposed and countered.

One burden, gone.

And with it, the constant static in his mind had quieted.

He'd woken up next morning and realized, with something like surprise, that he hadn't dreamed of her at all.

It should have felt like relief.

Instead, it felt like the calm before a storm.

Alex reached for the glass of water on the table, taking a slow sip while his eyes tracked the play of headlights across the ceiling. Sunday evening traffic.

People heading home from wherever they'd spent their day. Normal lives. Normal problems.

His phone sat beside him, face-down and silent.

He'd checked it twice today. Once in the morning. Once around noon. Nothing urgent. Nothing demanding his immediate attention.

Everything was under control.

So why did his chest feel tight?

Why did the quiet apartment feel less like peace and more like a held breath?

He set the glass down, leaning back against the couch and closing his eyes.

You're fine, he told himself, forcing his breathing to steady. You're fine. Just take it as a bad joke from Lilith. Another one of her twisted games.

But even as the thought formed, another one whispered beneath it, quieter and far more dangerous:

You're avoiding it.

Linda.

The thought of her name alone made something twist in his gut. Not the sharp, immediate panic from before. Something else. Something slower. Heavier.

He'd been so focused on Lila, on Sophia, on protecting Mike and Danny, that he'd successfully pushed Linda into a compartment labeled "deal with later."

And for two glorious days, "later" had felt comfortably far away.

Now, sitting alone in his apartment with nothing left to distract him, "later" was starting to feel a lot like "now."

The black interface burned into his vision an instant later, hovering just at the edge of sight.

A single line of cold white text blinked back at him.

[System Notice: Remaining Time — 5 hours, 14 minutes.]

He stared at it, thoughts slamming into place all at once.

The reprieve shattered... peace evaporating like mist.

Five hours.

It was too soon. He thought he had time... time to breathe, to think, to build something functional again.

But the system had its own ideas.

It always did.

The weight returned to his chest, just enough to steal the calm from his breath.

He pressed his palms against his eyes, the afterglow of the system text burning behind his lids.

He wondered if he was ready. The answer came easily... not yet.

He didn't even know what "ready" would look like. What he'd say to her. How he'd handle the conversation that was inevitable but still felt impossible.

She'd laid her heart bare, shattered every boundary they'd built, and he'd walked away without giving her an answer.

Because there was no good answer.

There was no version of this that didn't destroy something.

Alex opened his eyes, staring at the ceiling.

You can't avoid her forever.

He knew it. Sooner or later, he'd have to face Linda.

Was he really ready to do whatever it took... to silence his own conscience for power, for wealth?

He didn't know. But he suspected he already had.

His phone buzzed.

The sound cut through the silence like a gunshot, making his entire body go rigid.

Alex stared at it, face-down on the couch beside him, vibrating insistently against the leather.

For a moment, he didn't move. Just sat there, watching it buzz, his pulse picking up speed for reasons he didn't want to examine too closely.

It's fine, he told himself. Probably Danny. Or Mike checking in.

But his hand was already reaching for it, fingers closing around the cool metal, flipping it over...

Linda's name stared back at him from the screen.

His breath stopped.

The phone continued to vibrate in his hand, her name glowing against the dark background, and for several long seconds, Alex just... looked at it.

Of course.

Of course it was her.

Of course the universe wouldn't let him have more than two days of peace before dragging him back into the fire.

His thumb hovered over the screen. Decline. Answer. Decline. Answer.

Fuck.

He answered.

"Alex."

Linda's voice hit him like a physical force... soft, trembling, carrying so much weight in just his name that he had to close his eyes against it.

For a moment, neither of them spoke. Just the sound of her breathing on the other end of the line, and his own pulse hammering in his ears.

"Mom." His voice came out rougher than he intended. Tired. Guarded.

"I..." She paused, and he could hear her gathering courage. "I know you probably don't want to hear from me. I know I have no right to ask anything of you after... after everything."

Alex said nothing. Just waited, his jaw tight, fingers gripping the phone hard enough to hurt.

"But please," she continued, her voice breaking slightly on the word. "Please, Alex. Come to my house. We need to talk. Really talk."

His eyes opened, staring at nothing. "Mom, I don't think..."

"Please." The single word cut through his deflection like a blade. Raw. Vulnerable. Desperate.

"Just... give me a chance to explain everything. To make you understand. Then, if you want to leave, if you want to walk away and never look back, I swear I won't stop you."

Alex's throat tightened.

He could hear it in her voice... the hope she was trying so hard to contain, the fear that he'd say no, the fragile thread of possibility she was clinging to.

And beneath all of it, something that sounded a lot like love.

Silence stretched between them, heavy and impossible.

Every logical part of his brain was screaming at him to decline. To tell her no. To protect himself and her and everyone else from the inevitable disaster this would become.

But his mouth, traitorous and beyond his control, opened anyway.

"Okay." The word fell out before he could stop it. "I'll be there in twenty minutes."

The sharp intake of breath on the other end told him she hadn't actually expected him to agree.

"Thank you," she whispered, and the relief in her voice made his chest ache. "Thank you, Alex. I'll... I'll see you soon."

The line went dead.

Alex sat there, phone still pressed to his ear, staring at nothing.

What the fuck did you just do?

The two days of peace, the quiet mind, the relief of finally sleeping without her voice in his head... all of it evaporated in an instant.

His pulse was racing now, adrenaline flooding his system like he was preparing for a fight.

Because that's what this was, wasn't it?

A fight.

Not with fists or words, but with something far more dangerous.

With feelings he'd been trying so hard to keep locked away. With boundaries that had already been shattered. With a situation that had no good ending.

He stood slowly, legs feeling heavier than they should, and grabbed his jacket from the back of the couch.

This is it, he thought, the words settling over him with grim finality. The final push toward the edge.

He didn't know what Linda was going to say. Didn't know what he was going to say in response.

But as he walked toward the door, keys in hand, one thought echoed louder than all the others:

This can't end well.

And yet, he was going anyway.

***

Morrison House

Linda set the phone down with trembling hands, her heart racing with a mixture of terror and exhilaration she'd never experienced before.

He's coming. He's actually coming.

She moved through her bedroom with purpose, checking her reflection in the full-length mirror.

The house was empty.

She'd told them all she needed to pick up a few things, to check on the house and clear her head.

Danny had offered to drive her, Mike had insisted she rest instead... but she'd declined, her smile calm, practiced, convincing.

No one questioned it.

No one needed to know that stepping into an empty house tonight felt less like duty and more like surrender.

***

Author's Note:

Thank you for reading! I hope you enjoyed this chapter and felt every twist, turn, and pulse of the story.

Your support means the world... comments, messages, and feedback are always welcome.

Stay tuned for the next chapter; things are only going to get more intense!

Next chapter will be updated first on this website. Come back and continue reading tomorrow, everyone!

If you find any errors ( broken links, non-standard content, etc.. ), Please let us know < report chapter > so we can fix it as soon as possible.