Alexander's bella

Chapter 16

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Alexander

Alexander slowly opened his eyes, the room spinning slightly as he attempted to sit up against the headboard. A sharp pain shot through his chest, making him wince as he realized he was covered in bruises. His head throbbed, a dull ache clouding his thoughts. He struggled to recall the events of the previous night, but his memory was frustratingly blank. Desperation began to creep in as he scanned the room, his eyes searching frantically for someone—anyone—who might be there to explain what had happened. But the room remained eerily silent, and the emptiness only deepened his sense of unease.

Hearing a faint noise, Espella stirred from her sleep and quickly rushed over to Alexander’s side. Without thinking, she placed her hands gently on his shoulders, her concern overriding any hesitation. Their eyes met, and in that brief moment, the intensity of his gaze sent a rush of heat to her cheeks.

Realizing what she had done, Isbella's heart raced, and she quickly withdrew her hands, stepping back as though she had committed a grave error. Her blush deepened, and she stood with her hands clasped behind her back, her gaze fixed on the floor. She bit her lower lip, her mind spinning with a mix of embarrassment and confusion, wondering if he could sense how flustered she felt.

Alexander winced as a wave of pain coursed through him, causing Isbella to instinctively step forward, her hand reaching out as if to offer comfort.
"I'm sorry," she murmured softly, her voice barely above a whisper.

Alexander, still holding his head, looked at her with a mix of confusion and curiosity, trying to piece together the fragments of his memory. "Why?" he asked, his voice strained.

Isbella hesitated, her eyes flickering with guilt as she bit her lip. "I mean... yesterday, you got angry because of me," she admitted, her voice trembling slightly. The weight of her words hung in the air, leaving her unsure if she should say more or retreat in silence.

Alexander strained to recall the events, and with a sinking feeling, he realized he had raised his voice at Isabella. The memory weighed heavily on him, and he buried his face in his hands, releasing a deep, regretful sigh. His mind raced with thoughts of how he could have handled things differently, how the harsh words he’d spoken now seemed so unnecessary. Each breath he took felt heavier, burdened with the guilt of his actions.

He wished he could turn back time, to erase the hurt in her eyes, to replace his anger with understanding. But all he could do now was hope for forgiveness and find a way to make amends.

Alexander gazed into her eyes and beckoned Isabella to come closer.Before Isabella could even register what was happening, Alexander swiftly lifted her into his lap, wrapping his arms around her in a tender, protective embrace. The warmth of his touch and the steady rhythm of his heartbeat against her brought a sense of calm that words could never convey. He held her close, as if trying to shield her from the world, his fingers gently tracing soothing patterns on her back. In that moment, everything else faded away—no more misunderstandings, no more harsh words—just the quiet comfort of being in each other’s arms. The tension between them began to melt, replaced by a silent promise of unspoken understanding and a shared desire to mend what had been broken.

Alexander inched closer to her, their faces now so close that their lips were barely an inch apart. His breath mingled with hers, and every fiber of his being screamed to close the gap, to kiss her with all the passion he had been holding back. But he fought the urge, forcing himself to pause. With a shaky breath, he whispered,

“I’m sorry, Bella, for getting angry at you.” His words trembled in the air, their lips nearly touching, as if suspended in time. The apology hung between them, heavy with the weight of unspoken feelings. Alexander’s eyes searched hers, desperate for forgiveness, while his heart pounded in his chest, torn between desire and restraint. The air was thick with tension, every second stretched as they hovered on the brink of something that could change everything.