Chapter 7
944words
"Very funny," I replied, fumbling to light another candle. "Who would have thought the entire building would lose power?"
Outside, a storm raged, lightning illuminating our apartment before thunder crashed overhead. Ten minutes ago, the electricity had suddenly cut out, plunging us into complete darkness. Now, our small apartment was lit by the warm glow of a dozen candles, creating a strange intimacy.
"At least we have wine," Alexander said, holding up a bottle of red. He'd bought it earlier that day to celebrate Margie offering him a full-time position.
I smiled, retrieving two glasses. "To power outages?"
"To unexpected turns," he corrected, filling both glasses.
We sat on the living room floor, backs against the sofa, surrounded by the glow of candles. Outside, the storm continued to howl, but in our little space, everything felt remarkably peaceful.
"So," I sipped my wine, "full-time consulting at Margie's Café. Is this the career path you imagined?"
Alexander chuckled softly. "Honestly? No. But I find I really enjoy it. At Barrett Industries, everything was about big numbers and shareholder value. At Margie's, I can see how my decisions directly impact real people."
"Like that elderly gentleman who comes in every morning, always smiling now that you suggested adding those special sugar-free pastries."
"George," Alexander nodded. "He's diabetic. Before, he could only watch his wife enjoy desserts."
I studied his face, softened by the candlelight. "You've changed, you know that?"
"For better or worse?"
"For more... real." I searched for the right word. "When I first discovered your true identity, I thought the 'Adam' I knew was just a character. But now I realize that maybe Alexander Barrett was the character."
He looked thoughtfully at his wine glass. "I think you're right. I spent my whole life playing the person others expected me to be. My father's son. The Barrett heir. Board member. Philanthropist. But never really... just me."
"So who is the real you?" I asked softly.
He looked up at me, vulnerability and honesty in his eyes. "I'm still figuring that out. But I know I like simple things. I like solving problems. I like helping people. I like seeing direct results." He paused. "I like being with you."
The last statement hung between us, full of unspoken meaning. My heart raced, unsure how to respond.
"What about your father?" I asked, changing the subject. "Have you heard from him?"
Alexander's expression grew complex. "His assistant contacted me last week. Apparently, the company has been having some difficulties since I left. Father wants me back."
I felt a twinge of unease. "Will you go back?"
"Not on his terms." Alexander shook his head. "He wants me to give up my life now, return to the old track. But I can't do that." He looked at me. "I don't want to do that."
The air between us seemed to thicken, filled with unspoken words and actions not taken.
"Have you ever wondered," I asked carefully, "where we would be now if you hadn't lost everything?"
"Every day," he admitted. "If I were still Alexander Barrett, billionaire heir, we might never have had the chance to truly know each other. You would have kept seeing that surface person, and I... I might never have learned what really matters."
"And what do you think really matters?" I asked, my voice almost a whisper.
Alexander set down his wine glass, turning toward me. In the soft candlelight, his eyes were as deep as the ocean during a storm. "This," he said softly. "You and me. A real connection. Not based on money or status, but on... who we are."
His hand gently touched my cheek, warm and steady. My heart thundered, but I didn't pull away.
"Emma," he whispered, "I want to kiss you. I've wanted to for a long time."
I should have hesitated. Should have remembered all the complications, all the ways this could go wrong. But in that moment, with the storm howling and candles flickering, everything felt so simple and clear.
"What are you waiting for, then?" I whispered back.
He leaned forward, his lips meeting mine gently, tentatively. The kiss started soft, almost hesitant, but quickly grew more confident. My arms wrapped around his neck, and he pulled me closer until I was nearly sitting in his lap.
When we finally broke apart, we were both a little breathless. Alexander's forehead rested against mine, his hands still cradling my face as if I were something precious.
"I've been worried this would change everything," he murmured.
"It will," I admitted. "But maybe for the better."
He smiled, that genuine smile that lit up his entire face. "I never thought losing everything would lead me to find something more important than anything I ever had."
We kissed again, more passionately this time, more certain. Outside, the storm continued to rage, but in our little apartment, in the warm glow of candles, we'd found our own shelter.
That night, we talked for hours, sharing stories from our past, dreams of the present, and hopes for the future. When the power finally came back on, we barely noticed, too absorbed in each other's presence.
When I finally fell asleep, it was in Alexander's arms, his heartbeat steady against my ear. I realized that of all the possible outcomes, this was one I had never anticipated—that I would fall in love with Alexander Barrett, not for his wealth or status, but for the man he became after losing it all.
