30 Days of Passion and Revenge-Chapter 50: Lavish Trappings

He handed Lily a towel within the suite, his motions steeped in ingrained courtesy. Only then did she fully register her disheveled appearance.

A bitter chuckle nearly escaped at the realization that she no longer belonged amid such lavish trappings. "Don’t be so formal, Alex," she chided gently. "It’s just me."

Just me. Her detachment from the exclusive realm he inhabited was devastatingly profound.

As Alex settled beside her, studying her with familiar curiosity, Lily ached for their old camaraderie. But the stilted silence stretched interminably, causing discomfort to settle over them like a spectral fog.

Lily busied herself needlessly, using every gesture as a shield against the gnawing urge to ask the searing questions on her tongue. Alex watched with unguarded adoration in his warm, sable eyes as she lifted her gaze.

Suddenly, she could no longer bear his tender scrutiny. As her composure failed her, the familiar sting of tears blurred her vision.

"Ah, what a state I must be in!" she laughed shakily. "I never imagined we’d reunite like this."

When Alex didn’t respond, her watery chuckle withered into silence. "Alex, I..." Before the words could tumble out disastrously, she stopped herself.

He didn’t deserve to have her neuroses and inadequacies flung at him after her self-imposed exile nine years ago.

Yet her reticence concerned him. Leaning in, he brushed away a damp tendril with infinite tenderness. "Why are you crying? Please, Lily, not after all this time apart."

His gentleness broke the dam of her composure. Great, racking sobs shook her slender frame as she released the weighty burdens of her harrowing past.

Through the haze, she felt Alex’s arms encircle her once more, not urgently but with a soothing cadence that beckoned her to find solace against him. He cradled her close, murmuring endearments as he stroked her hair.

"Don’t cry, Lily," he soothed, his voice wavering with fragility. "We’ve loved each other at last. Nothing else matters now, my dearest friend.

Yet everything mattered. The chasm separating the woman Lily had become from Alex Carter’s privileged existence mattered immensely.

As the cathartic sobs ebbed, Lily became keenly aware of how wretched she must appear to this sophisticated man. Her hair was a banner of shame, and her evening gown was surely disheveled from its ordeal.

The crisp, refined scent of his cologne, befitting the world of wealth and privilege he occupied, struck her as she shifted in his tender embrace. In contrast, her world had descended into untold depths of squalor and degradation.

How could words convey the ruin and indignity she had endured? The all-consuming shame toxified her very being until she felt utterly unworthy of occupying the same air as him.

When she finally spoke again, resignation cloaked her words. "I should go."

After his relentless pursuit, Alex stiffened against her, confirming his fear of relinquishing this fragile thread between them.

"Stay," he implored, the desperate rasp in his voice thinning to a reedy whisper as his arms tightened. "Lily, I’ve searched for you for so long. Don’t abandon me again."

It took every ounce of Lily’s will to extricate herself, her cheeks burning with shame as she avoided his soulful gaze. She unfolded her trembling limbs and rose on halting steps, steadying herself against the nauseating waves of vulnerability crashing over her psyche.

She dared to look back at the man she had cherished yet thoroughly forsaken only when she had put distance between them.

Alex remained on the sofa, his shoulders slumping in wretched defeat as he stared at his hands. His mouth worked soundlessly for several moments before he found his voice.

"Don’t," he croaked, anguish twisting his customarily gentle features. "Please, Lily, don’t leave me again when I’ve only just found you."

It took every ounce of Lily’s fortitude to turn away from that haunting spectacle of desolation. She focused on putting one foot in front of the other as she retreated, each step shoring up the tattered remnants of her resolve.

As she reached for the door handle, Alex’s voice trailed after her in a ravaged whisper.

"I miss you very much," Alex said. "Can we keep in touch?"

Lily raised her head and smiled. "My phone is temporarily unavailable. Give me your contact number. I’ll call you."

Lily was stunned for a moment before nodding. "Okay, wait for me."

At this moment, Lily wants to remember him. I deeply etch everything about him, every move, in my mind.

After this time, they probably wouldn’t meet again.

Alex handed her the paper and said, "One is for home, one is for personal use, and the other is for the office." Alex folded the paper into a square and placed it in her palm with his fair fingers. "I’ll answer whatever you call.

Lily clutched the neatly folded paper in her hand, on which were the three phone numbers inscribed by the pale fingers of Alex Carter. "One for home, one for personal, and one for the office," he had said. "I’ll answer no matter which you call." She was leaving, forcing a smile as she prepared to step out the door, but it was abruptly shut again. Alex’s tall figure leaned against it, his hand pressing against the door, stopping her departure. His short hair was slightly messy, and the diamond ring on his ring finger was glaringly bright.

"Alex, what’s wrong?" Lily asked, taken aback.

His face showed a hint of embarrassment as he looked down at her, his long eyelashes flickering slightly before he spoke. "Lily, where do you live now?" he asked, his tone anxious when she didn’t respond immediately.

Lily was at a loss for words. She didn’t want to deceive him but couldn’t tell him the truth. Did she say she lived in her uncle’s modest courtyard house or the lair Ethan had claimed as his own? Neither place was one she wanted Alex to know about, especially not now when she felt soiled and unworthy of his concern.

"Lily, I just want to know where you live so I can visit you when you’re free," Alex said gently, his voice careful. 𝒇𝙧𝙚𝓮𝙬𝙚𝓫𝒏𝓸𝓿𝓮𝒍.𝓬𝙤𝓶

But Lily couldn’t allow it. She couldn’t let him see how far she had fallen, how she had become a woman of ill-repute in his eyes.

With a forced, carefree smile, she replied, "I have your number, Alex. I’ll call you to make plans."

His bright eyes dimmed at her words. Was this her way of rejecting him? Lily, who had never denied him anything, had changed after nine years.

"Lily," he called softly, his voice like a gentle breeze across her face. "Do you have a boyfriend?"

She stiffened, her face pale as she reluctantly confirmed, "Uh... yes."

The sight of Alex’s despondent gaze caused her heart to ache anew. Was it because she had a boyfriend that she didn’t want him to visit her home, for fear of disturbing them? Did that mean they were living together?

"So, Alex, don’t feel guilty about the engagement," Lily said with difficulty, expending all her strength. "Because... I’ve never waited for you."

Never waited...

Alex’s face, usually so warm and gentle, lost all expression. The belief he had held onto for years crumbled in an instant. He would have preferred her anger, her resentment for breaking his promise, over her telling him that she had never waited for him.

Something inside him was slowly being crushed, leaving him speechless.

"Alex," Lily called softly, her eyes still red as she pleaded, "Can you not tell your fiancée about meeting me?"

Alex looked at her in surprise, not understanding her reasoning. But Lily, just by being herself, made it impossible for him to refuse.

He nodded with a smile, "Yes."

Lily smiled back and opened the door again. Alex didn’t stop her this time, watching quietly as she left.

"Goodbye," Lily said, looking back at him.

"Goodbye," Alex replied stiffly, his gentle eyes hiding his reluctance to let her go.

Exiting the hotel room and closing the door behind her, Lily realized she had expended all her energy, so weak that she could barely stand. Slouching against the metal door, she felt utterly drained after encountering Alex. Meeting him had been more exhausting than dealing with Ethan.

From the other side of the door, she heard the faint sound of piano music—the slow and heavy notes of Chopin’s Nocturne Op. 9, each striking her heart with a sense of oppression. As a child, she often found Alex alone in the music room, playing this piece. He would play it in a sad mood, seeking solace in solitude. He had once said that the piece was unfortunate, much like how he felt sometimes.

Now, after nine years, she heard him play it again, but this time with an intensity that was suffocating in its sorrow. Why was he playing this piece now? Was it because seeing her had not brought him the joy he had imagined? Was it because he was disappointed to see how different she had become?