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Chapter 415
Madison
Alexander’s eyes held mine across the crowded venue, and everything else faded. The jazz music, the chatter, and the celebration were happening around us. None of it mattered because he was here.
At this party.
Why was he here? Had Hazel invited him? Or Oliver? Was he following me? My mind spun, trying to make sense of his presence.
Then I spotted Anthony behind him, and pieces started clicking into place. Oliver or Hazel must have invited Anthony, who brought Alexander.
But still. The coincidence felt too perfect, too deliberate.
Hazel appeared beside me, her hand on my arm. “Breathe, Madison. You look like you’re about to pass out.”
“What is he doing here?” I hissed, my voice low enough that only she could hear.
“I invited him.”
My head snapped toward her. “You what?”
“I invited Alexander.” Hazel’s expression was apologetic but firm. “And before you yell at me, Anthony and Oliver are colleagues. Oliver invited Anthony. They’re friends. It would have been weird not to extend the invitation to Alexander.”
“You could have warned me.”
“Would you have come if I had?”
She had a point. A frustrating, logical point.
Alexander started walking toward us, Anthony trailing behind him with an expression that suggested he knew exactly how awkward this was about to be.
“Madison.” Alexander’s voice was carefully neutral as he reached us. “Good to see you.”
“Alexander.” I forced the words past the tightness in my chest. “You too.”
Anthony stepped forward, his expression warm. “Madison. How are you?”
“I’m good. Busy with the café and everything, but good.” The lie came easily, practiced from months of pretending everything was fine when it wasn’t.
Oliver appeared at my side, probably sensing the tension radiating off me in waves. He extended his hand to Alexander. ” Alexander Knight. Good to finally meet you properly. Anthony mentioned you ”
“All good things, I hope.” Alexander shook his hand, that CEO smile firmly in place
“Mostly.” Oliver’s tone was light, but his eyes were assessing. He knew my history with Alexander Hazel had told him everything.
“Oliver,” Anthony said. “Happy birthday, man Great venue.”
“Thanks. Hazel picked it out. I just showed up and signed checks,”
Hazel laughed. “That’s not true. You helped with the guest list.”
“After you rejected my first three attempts.”
Their easy banter created a buffer, a momentary reprieve from the awkwardness of Alexander standing three feet away from ine.
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“King Alexander! You came to the party too!”
Ethan’s voice cut through the adult conversation like a knife through butter. My son barreled toward us from across the room, his face lit up with pure joy.
My heart stopped.
Alexander turned, his entire body going rigid as Ethan skidded to a halt in front of him.
“Hi!” Ethan waved enthusiastically. “I didn’t know you were coming! Do you know Uncle Oliver? It’s his birthday! He’s getting old!”
“Thanks, kid,” Oliver muttered.
“Are you friends with Uncle Oliver?” Ethan bounced on his toes. “Can I still count your building floors?”
Alexander crouched down, bringing himself to Ethan’s eye level. “Hi, Ethan. Yes, I know Oliver through Anthony. And yes, you can definitely count my building’s floors.”
“All hundred of them?”
“Every single one.”
“That’s gonna take forever!” Ethan’s excitement ramped up another notch. “But I’m really good at counting! Miss Daisy says I’m the best counter in my whole class!”
“I don’t doubt it.”
I should intervene. Should grab Ethan and take him back to his table before this got more complicated. But I couldn’t move, couldn’t do anything except watch my son interact with his father like they were old friends.
“Do you want to see my new trick?” Ethan asked. “I can do a cartwheel! Well, almost. Sometimes I fall over, but Mom says that’s okay because I’m still learning.”
“I’d love to see it.”
“Really?” Ethan’s face lit up brighter. “Okay! Watch this!”
He took three steps back, his little body preparing for the cartwheel. His hands hit the ground, his legs went up, and he promptly collapsed in a heap.
“Ta–da!” He popped up immediately, arms spread wide as he’d just stuck an Olympic landing.
Alexander’s lips twitched. “That was impressive.”
“I know! I’ve been practicing forever!” Ethan grabbed Alexander’s hand without hesitation. “Come on! I want to show you the cake! It’s HUGE! Bigger than me!”
Alexander let himself be pulled toward the dessert table, glancing back at me with an expression I couldn’t quite read.
Hazel leaned closer. “Well, that happened.”
“Shut up.”
“I’m just saying. Your son really likes him.”
“My son likes everyone. He tried to befriend a squirrel last week.”
“This is different, and you know it.” Hazel watched them disappear into the crowd. “Look at them. They have the same walk. Same hand gestures when they’re excited. It’s uncanny.”
She was right. Watching them together was like seeing past and future collide. Ethan’s animated chatter, Alexander’s careful
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attention, and the way they both tilted their heads the same way when considering something.
“That’s eerie,” Hazel whispered beside me. “Like looking at a time–lapse video.”
I couldn’t respond. My throat had closed up, watching my son bounce around Alexander like they’d known each other forever.
The party swirled around us. Music played, conversations rose and fell, and waiters circulated with appetizers. Normal celebration noise that felt too loud and not loud enough simultaneously.
“Mom, look!” Ethan raced back to me, his face flushed with excitement. “King Alexander says I can visit his kingdom anytime! Can we go? Please?”
“We’ll see, baby.”
“But Mom!”
“Ethan.” My tone carried a warning.
He deflated slightly, then spotted another kid near the balloon arch and took off like a rocket.
Alexander approached, hands in his pockets, looking more relaxed than I’d seen him since he’d shown up in Connecticut. “He’s energetic.”
“That’s putting it mildly.” I crossed my arms. “Did you really tell him he could visit your building?”
“Yes.”
“Without asking me first?” (1)
“I was making conversation with my son.” His jaw tightened. “Is that not allowed?”
Hazel cleared her throat loudly. “I’m going to check on the cake situation. You two play nice.” 1
She disappeared into the crowd, leaving us standing there like awkward strangers at a party.
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Sara Lili is a daring romance writer who turns icy landscapes into scenes of fiery passion. She loves crafting hot love stories while embracing the chill of Iceland’s breathtaking cold.
