Secluded with the Rogue

Chapter 16

Chapter 16

A lexander woke with the first rays of dawn filtering through the curtains, casting a soft glow over the room. The warmth of Genevieve’s body beside him was a reminder of the night they had shared, a night that had left him reeling in ways he had not anticipated. He lay there for a moment, his mind racing, torn between the lingering satisfaction of finally being close to her again and the heavy weight of the past that still hung over them.

He turned his head slightly, watching her as she slept, her breathing steady, her face soft and relaxed in sleep. She looked so peaceful, so different from the woman who had been guarded and wary of him the day before. But he knew better. The moment she woke up, the walls would go back up. She had every right to be guarded around him—he had earned that mistrust.

But things were different now. He was different.

The guilt and shame of what had happened five years ago still gnawed at him, but last night had been a step toward something else, something better. He had opened up to her, told her why he had left, and though she had kissed him—though they had shared a passionate night together—he could still feel the uncertainty radiating from her even now.

She stirred beside him, her lashes fluttering as she slowly awoke, and Alexander felt his heart skip a beat. He wanted to say something, to break the silence before the weight of the night caught up with them, but the words stuck in his throat.

When her eyes finally opened and met his, he saw the flicker of confusion, of vulnerability, and his chest tightened. She was battling something—her fears, her hurt—and he knew it was not something that could be fixed overnight.

“Morning,” he said quietly, his voice hoarse from sleep.

Genevieve blinked and then shifted slightly in the bed, her expression carefully neutral. “Morning.”

The tension between them was palpable, hanging in the air like the aftermath of a storm. The intimacy of last night still lingered, but so did the unresolved feelings—the years of pain, the fear of being hurt again. He could see it in her eyes, even though she was trying to hide it.

He sat up slowly, raking a hand through his hair. “I know you are probably… regretting what happened,” he said carefully, though the thought of her regretting their night together twisted his gut. “But I meant what I said last night, Genevieve. I am not the same man who left you. I would never do that again.”

Her eyes flicked away, focusing on the window as if she could not bear to look at him directly. “It is not that simple, Alexander. You do not just forget years of hurt in one night.”

“I do not expect you to forget,” he said quickly, his voice earnest. He turned toward her, needing her to see that he meant every word. “I just want you to know that I am not going anywhere. I will spend as long as it takes proving that to you.”

Genevieve sighed, her hand fidgeting with the blanket, her eyes distant. “It is not just about you leaving. It is… everything. You did not trust me enough to tell me what was happening. You made a choice for both of us, and it nearly destroyed me.”

Her words hit him hard, but he did not shy away from them. She was right, and he could not argue against the truth of what he had done. He had been a coward back then, letting fear and his father’s influence dictate his actions. But the past was behind them now. What mattered was the present—and the future he hoped they could have together.

“I know I made the wrong choice back then,” Alexander said softly. “I thought I was protecting you by walking away, but I see now that all I did was cause more pain. I am not asking you to forgive me right away, but I need you to believe that I will never make that mistake again.”

She finally met his gaze, and for the first time since she had woken up, he saw the raw emotion in her eyes—the conflict, the hesitation. She was torn between the pull she still felt toward him and the fear of being hurt again. He could see it in the way she bit her lip, the way her hands trembled slightly as they clutched the blanket.

“Why now?” she asked, her voice barely above a whisper. “Why did you come back? After all this time, why now?”

He exhaled slowly, leaning forward as he rested his elbows on his knees. “Because I could not stay away any longer. After my father died, I realized how much I had let fear control me. I spent years regretting what I did to you, Genevieve. I thought about coming back so many times, but I did not know if you would ever want to see me again.”

She laughed softly, but there was no humor in it. “I certainly did not. I spent years convincing myself that I hated you.”

Her admission stung, but he did not flinch. He had known she hated him for leaving, and he had deserved every bit of that hatred. But seeing her now, hearing the vulnerability in her voice—it made him realize just how much pain she had carried because of him.

“I deserve that,” he said quietly. “But I want to change that. I want to show you that I am here, that I am not running away this time.”

Genevieve’s gaze softened slightly, but the hesitation still lingered. “It is not just about you staying, Alexander. It is about trust. I trusted you once, and you broke that trust. How am I supposed to believe that you will not do it again?”

He reached for her hand, taking it gently in his, his thumb brushing over her knuckles. “I know it will take time. I know I need to earn your trust again, and I am willing to do whatever it takes to make that happen.”

For a long moment, she did not say anything, her gaze fixed on their hands as if she were lost in thought. The silence between them stretched, but it was not the same tense silence as before. It was heavy with possibility, with the hope that maybe, just maybe, they could find their way back to each other.

Finally, she looked up at him, her eyes filled with a mixture of fear and something else—something softer, more vulnerable. “I do not know if I can just… let my guard down,” she admitted, her voice trembling. “I want to believe you, but I am scared.”

Alexander’s heart clenched at the rawness of her words. He could see how hard it was for her to open up and admit her fears, and it only made him more determined to prove that he was not the man who had left her.

“I understand,” he said softly, squeezing her hand gently. “And I am not asking you to let your guard down all at once. Just… let me be here. Let me show you that I am not going anywhere.”

Genevieve searched his eyes as if trying to decide whether she could trust him, whether she could let herself be vulnerable again. The silence stretched on, the weight of her decision hanging between them.

Finally, she nodded, though the hesitation was still there. “Yes,” she whispered. “But I am not making any promises.”

A small smile tugged at his lips, and he nodded in return. “That is all I am asking.”

They sat in silence for a few moments longer, the tension between them easing just a little. Alexander felt a flicker of hope. It was not a resolution, but it was a start.