Crestfallen [COMPLETED]

ᴄʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀ - 40

Alex

A week has passed since Joanna and I began living apart. Every moment feels like an eternity without her. The house, once filled with warmth, comfort, and the essence of her presence, has turned cold and empty. The walls seem to echo her absence, amplifying the loneliness I feel.

I can't continue like this. I can't bear the silence, the void that has taken over my life. I need to take action. I miss her so much that it hurts.

Hesitantly, I stand in front of the hotel room door, my palms sweaty with nervousness. I raise my hand to knock, my gaze fixed on the door. When it opens, my heart skips a beat at the sight of her.

Joanna. My wife.

"Alex," she mumbles, her eyes reflecting surprise and shock.

I barely register anything else in that moment – just the sound of my name from her lips, like a lifeline.

"Joanna," I respond, my voice carrying a mix of emotions.
"Can I come in?" I ask, my words soft.

Joanna hesitates but eventually steps aside, allowing me to enter. I step inside, my eyes scanning the hotel room. It's a bit messy.
Items scattered around, and a small smile tugs at the corners of my lips.

This is so like her,organized chaos, her natural element. It's as if she can't exist without creating a bit of mess around her.

Even back at our home, I used to find enjoyment in arranging her little messes, creating order out of her chaos.

My thoughts are interrupted as she clears her throat, her gaze focused on me.

"What do you want, Alex?" she asks, her tone cautious.

You. Only you. I want to shout at the top of my lungs. But I don't.

"A chance," I reply, my voice soft but firm.

Her eyebrows furrow slightly, her eyes searching mine for something. "A chance?" she repeats, a hint of skepticism in her voice.

I take a step closer, and she instinctively takes a step back.

The movement cuts through me, at the painful reminder .

"I'm so sorry, Joanna," I say, the words heavy with sincerity. "For what I attempted that night. There's no excuse for my actions. I'm disgusted by what I did. I wouldn't blame you if you never forgave me."

She looks away, her lips pursed, her body language betraying a mix of emotions.

"I hate myself for it. Trust me," I continue, the rawness of my feelings evident in my words.

This time, she meets my gaze, her eyes locking with mine. It's as if a silent conversation takes place between us.

"I want a chance, Jo," I say, my voice catching slightly. "A chance for us. For you and me. To show you that I still...," I trail off, the emotions too overwhelming to put into words.

She swallows, her gaze unsteady, her eyes welling with tears. It's a sight that both breaks and mends my heart simultaneously.

"Please, Jo," I implore, feeling the intensity of my emotions surge within me. "Give me one last chance. Come back with me. Come back home."

My words hang in the air, and her expression shifts, caught off guard. I can feel the tension, the uncertainty in the room.

"Give me time to think. Can you wait?" she finally asks.

"Yes," I reply without hesitation, a surge of hope and enthusiasm rushing through me. "A thousand times, yes. I'll wait for you."