Heir of Deception | (for mature audience)

Chapter 24: Christian

Christian

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The engagement party is just a couple of weeks away, and while Alexandria has finally agreed to hire an event planner to help us organize it, she hasn’t quite relinquished control. In fact, she has been micromanaging Ava, our event planner, to an exhausting degree.

I understand her desire for everything to be perfect, but it’s becoming increasingly clear that Alexandria is wearing herself thin in the process. It’s not just me who has noticed; several of our friends have commented on how stressed she seems, and it worries me.

Her workload has noticeably increased, and despite her best efforts, the stress seems to be taking a toll on her. I suspect part of her anxiety stems from the pressure of her family’s expectations. They have a reputation for being rather judgmental, and I can only imagine how much she wants to impress them. However, the relentless pursuit of perfection can be a double-edged sword. It often leads to burnout, and I fear that’s exactly what Alexandria is heading toward.

Today was particularly hectic. I was running late getting home from work because my team had called an unexpected meeting regarding one of our current projects. Our client had submitted a series of last-minute changes that, unfortunately, would push us over the original budget we had been working with. It was a stressful situation, and I could feel the tension in the room as we scrambled to find solutions while keeping the client happy.

As I walked through the door, I felt a wave of relief wash over me. "You're home," Alexandria said, her face lighting up with a quick smile.

She was seated in the living room, surrounded by an array of pictures showcasing various decorations, along with templates for the invitations to the engagement party.

"Hello! What are you working on?" I asked, planting a gentle kiss on the top of her head. It was a small gesture, but I hoped it conveyed the support I wanted to offer her.

"Ava and I are just putting the final touches on the party," she replied, her voice a mix of excitement and fatigue. "Oh, and we need to discuss the guest list so that the invitations can be sent out on time."

"Okay, did you eat yet?" I inquired, noticing the slight shadows under her eyes.

"Yeah, I just finished my plate. I hope you’re not mad that I ate without you," she said, a hint of guilt creeping into her voice.

"No, of course not," I reassured her, though I couldn’t shake the concern that had begun to settle in my chest.

As I moved toward the kitchen, I noticed her half-eaten plate of food resting on the counter. This was becoming a troubling trend—another instance of her barely touching her meals. Before all this chaos began, she had slowly started to regain her appetite, and I had genuinely believed she was getting better. But now, it seemed like she was sliding back into old habits, and that worried me deeply.

After dinner, I decided to take a quick shower to wash away the stress of the day before heading to bed. When I finally climbed under the covers, I found Alexandria already asleep, her brow slightly furrowed even in slumber. I couldn’t help but feel a mix of emotions as I watched her. She looked so peaceful yet burdened, as if the weight of her worries was too heavy to carry even in her dreams.

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As the days passed, the engagement party loomed closer, and Alexandria’s stress levels seemed to escalate. She became increasingly fixated on every detail, from the damn color of the napkins to the arrangement of the flowers. While I appreciated her dedication, I couldn’t help but feel a growing sense of unease. She was becoming a shell of her former self, consumed by the desire to make everything perfect.

One evening, I decided to confront her about my concerns. "Alexandria," I began softly, "can we talk for a minute?"

She looked up from her laptop, her expression weary but attentive. "Sure, what’s on your mind?"

"I’ve noticed that you’ve been really stressed lately. I think it’s great that you want everything to be perfect, but I’m worried about you. You’ve been working yourself too hard, and it’s taking a toll on you," I said, choosing my words carefully.

She sighed, running a hand through her hair. "I know, I know. I just want everything to be right. My family… they can be so critical, and I don’t want them to think I didn’t put in enough effort."

I nodded, understanding her fears. "But you’re doing more than enough. It’s okay to ask for help or to let some things go. You don’t have to carry this burden alone."

"I appreciate that, Christian. I really do. It’s just hard for me to let go of control," she admitted, her voice tinged with vulnerability.

"Then let’s work on it together. We can talk to Ava and delegate some tasks. You shouldn’t have to handle everything by yourself," I suggested, hoping to alleviate some of her pressure.

After a moment of silence, she nodded slowly. "You’re right. Maybe I need to let Ava take the reins a bit more."

Encouraged by her response, I pressed on. "And remember, no matter what happens at the party, I’ll be there by your side, and fuck everyone and their opinions."

With that conversation, a weight seemed to lift, albeit slightly. I hoped that by voicing my concerns, I could help her find a balance between her desire for perfection and her own well-being.