Page 141 of This Life of Mine

“I need to speak with my wife,” he says.

The words are nearly hushed. There’s weight in them—recognition, regret, and even shame taking shape on his face.

He views me then, and his voice softens. “I’ve always cared for you, Lina. Truly,” he exhales.

“And I want to thank you—for being kind to my mother. For being patient with my son when I know he didn’t deserve it.”

I swallow, emotion pressing up unexpectedly.

“I understand your reservations about Cole,” he continues. “I won’t push this any further. I’m truly sorry, Lina.”

Now I’m the one in disbelief. An apology? And a sincere one?

“I’m glad you’re doing well,” he says. “I mean that. And for what it’s worth…I’m happy for you.”

There’s no manipulation in his tone. No agenda. Just a quiet acknowledgment of the life I built after walking away from theirs.

David nods, then turns and walks toward his car. I watch him go as the weight of the conversation works its way beneath my skin.

That’s when I noticehim.

Half-swallowed by shadow, Alex stands—watching. Leaning against a tree. Close enough to hear but not close enough to interrupt.

He didn’t intervene. He only listened and protected from afar.

Our eyes lock.

No words pass between us, but something does—understanding, reassurance, a silentI’ve got you.

Only then does Alex step forward, the darkness releasing him inch by inch.

I was never alone.

Chapter forty-three

Lina

We’re back at my place when I tell him everything.

I pace as I talk, words spilling out in uneven bursts—what David Allister said, how genuinely confused he seemed, the way his face changed when I mentioned the funeral, the moment it all clicked for me.

“I don’t think David was the one who hired someone to kill me, Alex.”

Alex doesn’t seem surprised. He exhales, then nods. “That lines up with what I found today.”

My stomach tightens. “So it’s confirmed?”

“Yes,” he says. “David’s been doing his own digging into some questionable financial transactions.”

I slump onto the edge of the couch, the weight of everything pressing into my chest. “He really meant it,” I say. “When he said he cared. When he thanked me.”

“I believe him,” Alex replies. “I don’t think that was an act, Lina.”

He pulls up my vanity chair to sit across from me, forearms resting on his knees, voice steady but grim. “There’s more.”

I fix my eyes on him. “Of course there is.”

“Money has been moving from David’s account since Virginia passed,” he continues. “Large sums. Quiet transfers. Shell accounts.” His jaw tightens. “And someone’s been forging David’s name.”