MY MOON

CHAPTER 24: ALEX

My head felt heavy and my eyes struggled to open. As I opened my eyes, I realized, Alya's arms are wrapped around me, providing a comfort I hadn't felt in a long time. The situation was perplexing—I couldn't quite piece together how I had ended up here—but the feeling of her holding me was undeniably amazing.

I gingerly untangled myself from her embrace and made my way to the bathroom. The fog of last night's events clouded my mind as I stepped into the shower, trying to piece together the fragments of my memory. I recalled drinking heavily at the bar and making my way home, but everything afterward was a blur. Snippets of conversation flashed through my mind: "I'm so sorry," "Alex?" "I felt like I lost you." Dammit, I couldn't remember it all, but it seemed like I had apologized to Alya.

After my shower, I walked back into the bedroom, only to find it empty. I ventured out and spotted Alya in the kitchen, busily making breakfast. I stood by the wall, observing her as she made everything seem wonderfully normal for a moment. It was as if all we did last night was: we had cuddled, slept together, and now she was making breakfast for me. It was a beautiful illusion, one that made me wish things were truly that simple.

Alya noticed me and flashed a warm smile. "You're awake?" she asked, her voice unexpectedly friendly, cutting through the fog of our recent events.

"Yeah," I replied, slightly taken aback as I walked towards her.

"Come and sit down. I'm making French toast," she said, her tone light and casual, as if all the bad things between us were forgotten.

"Okay," I responded with confusion as I took a seat at the kitchen table.

Soon enough, Alya brought over two plates of golden French toast, the smell of cinnamon and vanilla filling the air. She sat across from me, eating with an ease that belied the complicated mess we had been wading through. There were no sarcastic remarks, no underlying tension—just a peaceful, almost surreal silence. My mind raced, trying to figure the change in her attitude.

I softly said, "I am so sorry Alya, for last night, I got high."

She didn't flinch, she continued eating her breakfast.

"And also I really am sorry, Alya, for the wedding night, whatever I said, last night, I mean it. I never wanted to hurt you, I know you can't just forget everything but I want to make it up for you for everything I said," I said looking at her.

After a few moments, she broke the silence. "I've decided to put the past behind us, Alex," she said, her eyes focused on her plate as she took a bite.

"Huh?" I blurted out, not entirely sure I had heard her right.

She looked up, meeting my gaze with a calm resolve. "I don't know why, but I believe there's more to what happened that night than what you showed or I heard," she said, her voice steady.

"Alya, I don't understand," I replied, still struggling to catch up with the sudden shift in our dynamic.

"Whatever happened that night at the wedding," she continued, her eyes softening, "I want to believe the Alex I know would never intentionally hurt me. But yes, the words you said—they broke me. I wasn't myself for weeks. I self-doubted. I can never forget them, those words, but still I think I can start to forgive you."

Her conviction floored me. "Alya—" I began, my voice cracking under the weight of her unexpected grace.

She held up a hand to stop me. "I know you can't explain it right now. If you could, you would have already. So I'll wait until the truth comes out. But understand that this doesn't mean I trust you, Alex, trust doesn't come easily anymore to you. You'll have to earn it, I don't know when I will again trust you or if ever I will but sure as hell you gotta earn it cuz I don't trust you now," she said, a quiet determination in her tone.