Chapter 143
The message took Alina seventeen minutes to send.
She wrote it.
Deleted it.
Rewrote it.
Deleted it again.
By the fourth attempt, she was no longer editing the words.
She was negotiating with herself.
Finally, she pressed send.
Can you come to New York?
The three dots appeared almost instantly.
Luc:
Are you alright?
She stared at the screen.
The truthful answer was complicated.
So she settled for another truth.
I miss you.
This time the reply took longer.
I’ll book the first flight I can.
He arrived two days later.
The board meeting was only four days away.
Alina met him at the arrivals hall.
No flowers.
No dramatic reunion.
Just people rushing past with luggage and tired faces.
Luc emerged wearing a navy jacket, one backpack slung over his shoulder.
The moment he saw her, he smiled.
Not the polite smile he gave strangers.
The one that belonged only to her.
She crossed the distance almost without thinking.
He barely had time to put down his bag before she wrapped both arms around him.
For several long seconds, neither of them spoke.
New York continued around them.
Announcements echoed overhead.
Suitcases rolled across polished floors.
Someone laughed nearby.
The world carried on.
Inside the embrace, it became strangely quiet.
Luc rested his cheek lightly against her hair.
“You must have missed me p>
She laughed softly.
“I really did p>
The taxi ride back to Manhattan felt unusually peaceful.
Luc talked about èze.
Gabrielle had invented another impossible pastry.
Claire had adopted a stray cat despite insisting for years that she disliked animals.
Thomas was planning another village festival.
Small stories.
Gentle stories.
The kind that slowed her heartbeat.
He noticed she was quieter than usual.
“You don’t have to entertain me p>
“I’m not p>
“You’ve been apologizing every time the traffic stops p>
She blinked.
“I have p>
“Three times p>
She hadn’t even realized.
He reached across the seat and quietly took her hand.
“You don’t have to apologize for New York either p>
When they arrived at her apartment, Luc stood by the windows for a long moment.
The skyline stretched endlessly beyond the glass.
“It’s beautiful p>
“It is p>
He turned toward her.
“And exhausting p>
She smiled.
“You’ve understood the city p>
“I think I’d survive forty-eight hours p>
“And after that p>
“I’d begin negotiating with pigeons p>
She laughed—a real laugh.
It echoed through the apartment.
Luc smiled to himself.
He had come for that sound.
That evening they cooked together.
Not because they had to.
Because it felt familiar.
Luc quietly criticized the apartment knives.
Alina pretended to be offended.
He insisted the olive oil deserved better bread.
She argued that New York had perfectly acceptable bakeries.
He looked scandalized.
She surrendered before the debate became international.
The kitchen slowly filled with warmth.
Garlic.
Butter.
Fresh herbs.
Music played softly from her speakers.
For a little while, Manhattan disappeared.
It became only two people making dinner together.
After they ate, neither wanted to clear the table immediately.
Luc watched the lights beyond the windows.
“You’re somewhere else tonight p>
She lowered her gaze.
“I know p>
“You’ve been carrying something since you came back p>
She nodded once.
“I know p>
He reached across the table.
Covered her hand with his.
“I won’t ask again p>
She looked up.
“You won’t p>
“No p>
His voice remained calm.
“When you’re ready, you’ll tell me p>
“And if I’m never ready p>
He smiled sadly.
“Then I’ll simply be grateful you asked me to come p>
Something inside her loosened.
Not completely.
Just enough.
Much later, they stood together by the windows.
The city glittered beneath them.
Alina rested her head against his shoulder.
“I was so sure I could do this alone p>
Luc didn’t answer immediately.
Instead, he brushed a loose strand of hair behind her ear.
“And now p>
She laughed weakly.
“I’m tired of being strong p>
The confession surprised even her.
She had not planned to say it.
Luc’s expression softened.
“I’ve been waiting to hear you admit that p>
“I thought strength meant carrying everything myself p>
“No p>
He gently shook his head.
“Strength is knowing when to let someone stand beside you p>
Her eyes filled before she could stop them.
“I don’t know how p>
“I know p>
He smiled.
“So we’ll learn p>
She kissed him first.
Not urgently.
Not desperately.
Simply because words had become too small for everything she wanted to say.
He answered with the same gentleness that had always defined him.
There was no hurry.
No performance.
No need to prove anything.
Only closeness.
Only trust.
The apartment, so empty for weeks, finally felt lived in again.
For the first time since returning to New York, Alina allowed herself to stop thinking.
No boardroom.
No shareholders.
No White Clover.
No Darius.
Only the steady certainty of another heartbeat beside her.
Later, they lay together in the quiet darkness, the city lights painting soft patterns across the ceiling.
Luc traced absent-minded circles against the back of her hand.
Neither of them spoke for a long time.
Eventually, Alina broke the silence.
“I’m afraid p>
It was the first time she had said the words aloud to him.
Luc turned toward her.
He did not ask what she feared.
He already knew the answer wasn’t simple.
Instead, he kissed her forehead.
“I know p>
She smiled faintly.
“You always say that p>
“Because I don’t need to know every detail to know you’re frightened p>
A tear slipped down her cheek before she could stop it.
“I’m scared that after this p>
She hesitated.
Luc gently wiped away the tear with his thumb.
“Everything has already changed p>
She looked at him.
“The difference is that you’ve changed into someone you can finally be proud of p>
She closed her eyes.
For months, Helena had taught her how to enter a boardroom.
How to command a room.
How to dismantle an opponent without raising her voice.
Luc asked nothing of her.
He simply reminded her that beneath the strategist p>
beneath the investor p>
beneath the woman preparing for war p>
she was still allowed to be human.
She moved closer until her forehead rested against his.
“I don’t know what happens after next week p>
“Neither do I p>
“And that doesn’t frighten you p>
“It does p>
He smiled.
“But uncertainty has never stopped me from choosing someone p>
Her breath caught.
No grand declaration.
No dramatic promise.
Just a quiet choice.
The kind that asked for nothing in return.
Outside, Manhattan burned with restless light.
Inside the apartment, for one precious night, Alina allowed herself to stop carrying the weight of tomorrow.
She simply rested.
And for the first time that week sleep came easily.