Chapter Five

Chapter 5

The sound of laughter drifted through the house, soft and unexpected. Elena paused in the kitchen, her hands still wet from washing dishes, and tilted her head to listen. It was Thomas, his voice bright and full of life. Alex’s deeper tone joined him, the two of them caught up in a moment that sounded almost... happy.

Elena’s chest tightened, conflicted by the warmth spreading through her. She quickly shook it off, focusing back on the sudsy plates in the sink. She wasn’t here to bask in the sound of a happy family; she was here for Thomas. That was it.

The door creaked open, and Alex stepped inside. He held an empty glass in one hand, his shirt sleeves rolled up. His gaze landed on her, flicking to the sink and then back to her face.

“You didn’t have to do that,” he said, setting the glass on the counter.

Elena shrugged, not looking up. “I wasn’t doing anything else.”

Silence settled between them, and she thought he might leave. Instead, he moved closer, rolling up his sleeves further.

“What are you doing?” she asked, finally turning to face him.

“I’m helping,” he replied simply, grabbing a towel and reaching for a plate she’d already washed.

Elena frowned. “I don’t need help.”

“And yet, here I am,” Alex countered, his tone light but unyielding.

She huffed, turning her attention back to the dishes. His presence was distracting, and not in a good way. She focused on scrubbing a stubborn stain, determined to ignore him.

“Elena,” he said after a moment, his voice quieter now.

“What?” she asked, not looking at him.

“Thank you,” he said, catching her off guard.

She froze, her hands still submerged in the warm water. “For what?”

“For doing this. For being here.” His voice was steady, but there was something vulnerable beneath it.

Elena swallowed hard, forcing herself to respond. “I’m here for Thomas,” she said firmly.

“I know,” Alex said, his gaze fixed on her. “But it still matters.”

She didn’t know how to respond to that, so she didn’t. Instead, she quickly finished the dishes and dried her hands. “I’ll check on Thomas,” she said, more to end the moment than anything else.

Alex didn’t stop her, but she felt his eyes on her as she left the kitchen.

Thomas was curled up on the living room floor with his coloring books, his small face scrunched in concentration. He brightened as soon as he saw her.

“Miss Elena, look!” he said, holding up a vibrant drawing of what she assumed was a superhero.

She crouched down beside him, smiling. “That’s amazing, Thomas. You’re getting so good at this.”

He beamed, his pride infectious. Elena found herself genuinely smiling, the day’s tension momentarily forgotten.

“You think so?” he asked eagerly.

“Definitely,” she assured him, ruffling his hair.

Alex appeared in the doorway, leaning against the frame with his arms crossed. His expression was softer now, a faint smile tugging at the corners of his mouth.

Elena glanced at him briefly before returning her attention to Thomas. She couldn’t let herself get caught up in whatever that look meant.

Elena sat on the couch, her legs tucked beneath her, a book resting in her lap. She wasn’t reading, though. Her eyes skimmed the pages without absorbing the words, her mind elsewhere.

Thomas had gone to bed hours ago, his little face peaceful in sleep. She’d checked on him twice already, lingering longer than necessary each time, as if watching him breathe would steady her thoughts.

Her gaze drifted toward the doorway, where she half-expected Alex to appear. He’d been scarce all evening, retreating to his study after dinner without a word. Elena told herself she didn’t care, but the tightness in her chest said otherwise.

Just as she was about to give up and head upstairs, the sound of footsteps on the hardwood floor reached her ears. She stiffened slightly, gripping the edges of her book as Alex stepped into view.

He paused in the doorway, his hands shoved into his pockets. His hair was slightly tousled, and the first two buttons of his shirt were undone, giving him a disheveled, almost vulnerable appearance.

“Couldn’t sleep?” he asked, his voice low and rough in the quiet.

Elena shook her head, closing the book with a soft thud. “I guess not. You?”

Alex shrugged, moving to sit on the couch across from her. The cushion dipped under his weight, the space between them suddenly feeling much smaller than it actually was.

“I’ve got a lot on my mind,” he admitted, leaning forward to rest his elbows on his knees. His gaze was steady, but there was a flicker of something unreadable in his eyes.

Elena didn’t respond immediately. Instead, she studied him, trying to piece together the thoughts swirling in his head. For a man who seemed to have everything under control, Alex Hitler was surprisingly hard to read.

“What are you thinking about?” she asked finally, her voice softer than she intended.

He hesitated, as if weighing whether to answer honestly. Then he sighed, running a hand through his hair. “You. Thomas. This whole... arrangement.”

Elena’s stomach tightened, her fingers gripping the book a little harder. “What about it?”

Alex leaned back, his arms stretched along the back of the couch. His posture was relaxed, but his expression was anything but. “It’s not what I expected.”

“Disappointed?” she asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Far from it,” he said without missing a beat, his gaze locking onto hers.

The air between them seemed to thicken, the silence stretching as his words hung in the space between them. Elena’s pulse quickened, and she hated the way her body betrayed her.

She broke eye contact, glancing down at the book in her lap. “This isn’t real, Alex,” she said, her voice firm despite the flutter in her chest. “It’s just an arrangement.”

“Is it?” he asked quietly, his tone challenging.

Elena looked up sharply, her eyes narrowing. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

Alex leaned forward again, his elbows on his knees, his face mere inches from hers. “You can tell yourself that all you want, Elena, but we both know it’s more than that.”

Her breath caught, her heart pounding so loudly she was sure he could hear it. She opened her mouth to argue, to shut him down, but no words came out.

Alex’s gaze dropped to her lips for the briefest moment before snapping back to her eyes. The tension was palpable, the unspoken words hanging heavily between them.

“Elena,” he said softly, his voice barely above a whisper.

She swallowed hard, her resolve wavering. “This is a mistake,” she murmured, but the words lacked conviction.

Alex reached out, his fingers brushing against hers. The contact sent a jolt through her, and she pulled her hand back as if burned.

“I should go to bed,” she said abruptly, standing so quickly she nearly knocked over her book.

Alex rose with her, his movements slow and deliberate. He didn’t say anything, but his eyes never left hers, the intensity of his gaze making it impossible to look away.

“Elena,” he said again, his voice lowered this time.

“Goodnight, Alex,” she said firmly, turning on her heel and heading for the stairs.