The apartnt slled like coffee and toasted bread.
Alexander stood at the kitchen counter in a plain T-shirt and sweatpants, sleeves pushed up, moving with quiet efficiency as he cracked eggs into a bowl.
The city outside was awake, sunlight spilling through the wide windows, calm and deceptively normal.
He glanced once toward the hallway.
The bathroom door was closed. He could hear the faint sound of running water.
Evelyn was in his house and that fact alone made sothing warm settle in his chest.
He flipped an olet carefully, resisting the urge to smile like an idiot, when the doorbell rang.
Alexander froze.
The doorbell rang once, twice.
He stared at the door as if it might explain itself.
Then it rang again and his brows knitted. It was still very early for anyone to visit.
He wiped his hands on a towel and walked toward the door, unease creeping in because only three people always showed up in his apartnt unannounced.
He opened it.
Margaret Reid stood there with her cane in one hand, expression both sharp and amused.
Beside her was Pauline, holding two neatly packed containers and looking far too pleased with herself.
Alexander blinked. "Grandmother—Mom?"
Margaret peered past him into the apartnt, eyes already scanning. "Good, you are alive. I was beginning to think corporate stress had finally killed you."
Pauline smiled gently. "Good morning, sweetheart. We brought breakfast."
Alexander stepped aside automatically. "You didn’t have to—"
"We absolutely did," Margaret cut in, tapping her cane once as she entered. "You have been living on caffeine and irritation for the last few days."
She stopped mid-step when her gaze landed on the kitchen, then the counter and then on the second coffee mug.
Then slowly back to Alexander.
"Oh," Margaret said.
Pauline followed her line of sight and froze for a fraction of a second before understanding dawned.
Her smile widened.
"Oh," she said
Alexander opened his mouth to speak just as the bathroom door opened.
Evelyn stepped out, hair still damp, wrapped in one of Alexander’s shirts—clearly his, far too big on her—absently drying her hands with a towel.
She looked up and for a second she stopped breathing.
And for one long, silent second, no one moved.
Margaret’s eyes lit up like she had just won a private war.
Pauline gasped softly. "Evelyn?"
Evelyn’s face went from normal to pink to absolutely mortified in under two seconds.
"I—Mrs. Reid—Pauline—this isn’t—" she started, then stopped, then tried again. "Good morning."
Margaret broke the silence with a delighted laugh. "Oh, don’t look so terrified, child like we caught you committing a cri."
Evelyn wished the floor would open and swallow her whole.
Alexander stepped forward instinctively, calm but protective. "She stayed over because she had a little too much to drink last night,"
Margaret waved him off. "Relax. I am not blind and I am certainly not offended." She turned to Pauline with a triumphant look. "See? I told you. Grandmother soon. And ?" She smiled wider. "Great-grandmother."
"Mother," Pauline said helplessly, though she was laughing now. "Don’t start."
Evelyn looked like she wanted the floor to swallow her whole. "Nothing happened," she blurted out.
Margaret humd. "Of course not. You are both far too tense for that."
Alexander choked but was also a little offended. Many things would have happened last night if he hadn’t stopped it.
Pauline hid her smile behind her hand. "We just ca to bring food and see how Alexander was doing," she said gently. "Not to interrogate anyone."
Margaret looked around pointedly. "Still it’s nice to see the house so bright and warm."
Evelyn glanced at Alexander, mortified. He gave her a small, reassuring smile, stepping closer. He wasn’t touching, just grounding.
"I was making breakfast," he said calmly. "You ca at the perfect ti."
Margaret bead. "A man who cooks? Evelyn, hold onto him. They are rare."
Evelyn let out a nervous laugh. "I am trying."
Pauline shook her head fondly as she unpacked the food. "Why don’t we all sit? Before Mother starts planning the wedding nu."
Margaret lifted an eyebrow. "I already have ideas."
Alexander sighed, but there was warmth in it.
...
Alexander was clearing the dishes after breakfast when his phone rang. It was work and urgent by the look on his face.
He glanced once toward the kitchen where Evelyn stood with a mug in her hands.
"I have to go, there is a eting I have to attend," he said apologetically. "I will see you tonight."
She smiled, soft and sleepy. "Drive safe."
Margaret waved him off from the couch. "Don’t overwork yourself, young man. Stress kills faster than bullets."
Pauline laughed. "We will drop Evelyn ho. Go."
Alexander leaned in, pressed a quick kiss to Evelyn’s temple. It was nothing dramatic, just instinctive and then he was gone.
The door closed.
The warmth lingered for exactly five seconds longer than it should have.
....
[Alexander’s Car]
Alexander rged onto the main road with one hand on the steering wheel, the other resting casually near the gearshift.
The traffic was light as it was still early.
Lucas’s voice crackled through the car speakers. "So," he said lazily, "did you survive the night or should I start planning your morial?"
Alexander snorted. "You are dramatic."
"Am I?" Lucas replied. "Because last I checked, you spent the night alone with the woman you are clearly in love with."
Alexander shook his head, smiling despite himself. "Focus, Lucas."
"I am focused," Lucas said. "On how fast you are driving."
Alexander glanced at the speedoter and eased off instinctively.
That was when he felt it, the car didn’t slow.
His smile faded.
He pressed the brake pedal again and the car did not slow down.
Alexander’s grip tightened on the wheel.
"Lucas," he said calmly.
"What’s wrong?" Lucas asked.
"The brakes," Alexander said, testing the pedal again—harder this ti. It sank uselessly beneath his foot. "They are not responding."
There was silence for a second and then Lucas’s tone shifted completely. "Okay. Listen to . Are you on the highway or the city road?"
"City road," Alexander answered, eyes scanning ahead. A traffic signal glowed red in the distance and the cars were slowing but his wasn’t.
"Try the handbrake," Lucas said sharply. "Slow, controlled but don’t yank it."
Alexander reached for it, pulling gradually.
The tires scread and the car jerked sideways.
"Shit—" Alexander swore, correcting the wheel as the vehicle fishtailed.
"Alexander," Lucas said, voice tight now, "get into the left lane. Look for an escape, a shoulder, a divider, anything."
"I see it," Alexander replied, pulse pounding. The red light was too close now and there were too many cars.
He downshifted aggressively and then the engine roared in protest but the speed dropped slightly, clearly not enough.
"Lucas," he said, breath sharp, "this isn’t working."
"Stay with ," Lucas ordered. "You hear ? Don’t panic."
Just then a truck ahead slamd its brakes.
Alexander swerved instinctively.
Then the world tilted, tal scread and glass shattered.
The impact ca hard, and sideways, throwing him against the seat as the car spun, slamd again, then finally screeched to a dead, unnatural stop.
....
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