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The sound of the bell reaches my ears, prompting a soft sigh to escape. I ease the covers off and slip my feet into cozy slippers. With cautious steps, I make my way downstairs, enveloped by the night's darkness. An enigmatic presence awaits me below.
I swing the door open, my urgency mirroring the sight before me. Alexander stands there, weariness etched across his face, shadows playing under his eyes, and his hair staging a disheveled performance. His hands tucked in his pockets, a departure from his norm. The palpable unrest that clings to him speaks volumes-an unmistakable sign that something's amiss.
"Alexander," his name slips from my mouth, laced with worry. "What's wrong?"
He exhales, weariness dissipating with the sigh. "You were right. Nicholas isn't my son."
I move, gesturing for him to come in. "Come in, please."
But Alexander lingers at the doorway, reluctance clear. "He's my brother's child."
The sound that reaches me sends shivers through me. I had meant to be honest with Alexander, yet the reality cuts deeper than I expected. His flesh and blood. The idea of someone betraying their kin hangs over me like a haunting shadow.
I raise my arm, a wordless invitation for Alexander to step inside. After a moment of hesitation, he agrees, stepping into the living room. With a tired exhale, he sinks into a sea of cushions, letting himself be enveloped by their soft embrace.
No need for words, I head to the kitchen. The sound of running water breaks the silence as I set the kettle on the stove. Once it's ready, I pour the hot water into a mug, carefully steeping chamomile tea. I hand the mug to Alexander, his gratitude is clear in his actions as he accepts it with a grateful nod.
"I never meant for things to unravel like this," I murmur, my voice just above a whisper. "I'm sorry."
Understanding crosses Alexander's face in a fleeting moment. "You're not to blame. I never imagined my brother could do something like this."
I place the mug of tea on the coffee table, my focus momentarily fixed on it. "I didn't even know you had a brother."
Alexander leans against the sofa's backrest, weariness etched on his features. "Our relationship is complicated."
"This revelation will only complicate things further," I remark softly, letting my words carry the weight of their situation.
Alexander acknowledges my unspoken empathy with a confirming nod. I idly play with the hem of my nightgown while crossing my legs. The air around us hangs dense with silence, stifling conversation. It's as if the weight of time and the disclosed secrets have conspired, rendering any dialogue nearly impossible.
He remains silent, his lips sealed as if guarding untold thoughts. I readjust on the sofa, the fabric's soft friction against my skin a minor distraction. Impatient, I tap my watch, the faint clicking sound punctuating the quiet room. The urge to yawn surfaces, but I quickly suppress it, aware that time has stretched late into the night. Fatigue tugs at my senses, a reminder of the need for rest. Still, my determination to stand by Alexander battles with my longing for sleep.
