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Alex stood in front of Lola's apartment door, his heart pounding harder than he would've liked. He had never been this nervous, not even when things had first started between him and her, when everything was fresh and raw and uncertain. This was different. His hand hovered over the door for a moment, hesitating before he knocked.
He could feel the weight of the small velvet box in his jacket pocket, pressing against him like a secret. The family engagement ring. He had asked his mum for it a few weeks ago, after they'd sat down in the kitchen, cups of tea cooling between them as she'd given him the kind of advice only a mum could.
"Love's not easy," she'd said, her eyes soft and knowing. "But it's worth fighting for. If I'd let your dad slip away every time things got tough, we wouldn't have made it all these years." She'd taken his hand then, squeezing it tightly. "Love isn't about letting people go, Al, sweetheart. Love is about doing anything to stay with them."
So here he was. Ready to fight. Ready to ask for another chance. His mum had been shocked when he'd asked for the ring - she probably hadn't meant that much fighting. But it was what he thought was right. It was what he wanted. He just wanted her.
And her entirely.
He knocked, two short raps, his heart lodged somewhere in his throat.
The door opened a moment later, and there she was. Lola.
She looked... different. Softer, somehow. Her hair was tied up messily, the way she always did when she was busy (Alex remembered how she had told him one time how her mind couldn't focus with her hair down), but her eyes lit up the second they met his, and she smiled.
"Alex," she breathed, surprised but not in the way he had expected. There was no anger, no frustration in her expression like the last few times they had spoken, when she'd snapped at him over the phone, telling him to stop calling her when he was pissed.
He hadn't spoken to her at all for some months, so for him to appear at her flat, he had thought she would be furious. He'd braced himself for such, but instead, she looked happy to see him.
"Lola," Alex managed, trying to wrap his head around her reaction. "I... uh, I hope it's okay that I stopped by."
She blinked, still smiling, and stepped aside, waving him in. "Of course. Come in."
He followed her into the apartment, a little stunned. He'd imagined this a thousand different ways—her slamming the door in his face, telling him to leave, or worse, her not opening the door at all. But she was inviting him in, smiling like she wasn't mad, like the months that had passed hadn't been filled with tension and unanswered or hung-up calls.
"Do you want something to drink?" Lola asked, already moving toward the kitchen.
"Uh, sure," Alex replied, his voice a little strained. "Just water's fine."
