CHAPTER 34: A PLACE AT MY TABLE

I was halfway through preparing dinner when I decided to invite Alexander to meet my family.

It wasn't a sudden decision. I had been thinking about it since our last conversation. He had told me about the lonely childhood hidden behind his family's wealth, and I wanted him to experience something different. I wanted him to sit at a table where nobody cared about company shares, business titles, or how much money he had.

I wanted him to experience my ordinary life.

I picked up my phone.

Me: Are you free tomorrow evening?

His reply came a few minutes later.

Alexander: For you, yes.

Me: I'd like you to have dinner with my family.

There was a longer pause than usual.

Alexander: Your family?

Me: Yes. My mother and Daniel. Nothing fancy. Just dinner at home.

Alexander: I'd like that. Are you sure they're comfortable meeting me?

I smiled.

Me: You'll find out.

Alexander: Should I bring anything?

Me: Yourself. And please don't bring anything expensive.

Alexander: Understood. I'm beginning to suspect you enjoy giving me rules.

Me: Only because you need them.

He sent a laughing emoji, and I put my phone away.

 

The following evening, our apartment smelled of roasted chicken, garlic, and freshly baked bread. My mother sat in the living room, folding clean laundry while Daniel moved around the kitchen, stealing pieces of food whenever he thought I wasn't looking.

“Daniel, stop eating the chicken.”

“I'm checking whether it's cooked.”

“You've checked four times.”

“Quality control.”

I shook my head.

My mother laughed.

“You should let him help instead of shouting at him.”

“I did. He ate half the ingredients.”

Daniel grinned and disappeared into the living room.

A knock sounded at the door.

My stomach tightened.

I wiped my hands on a towel and opened it.

Alexander stood outside wearing dark jeans and a simple navy shirt. No expensive suit, no tie, and no visible security team. He held a small paper bag.

I narrowed my eyes.

“What did I say about expensive gifts?”

He lifted the bag.

“Bread. From the bakery down the road.”

I looked inside. It contained two loaves of fresh bread.

“That's acceptable.”

“I'm relieved.”

He looked slightly nervous, which was unusual enough to make me smile.

“Come in.”

As he stepped inside, he glanced around the small living room. The old sofa, the framed family photographs, the little shelf Daniel had built at school, and the curtains my mother had sewn herself were all visible.

“This is home,” I said.

He nodded.

“It feels warm.”

I wasn't sure why those words touched me, but they did.

 

My mother stood when we entered the living room.

“Mr. Blackwood.”

“Please, call me Alexander,” he said politely. “It's good to meet you.”

She shook his hand but didn't smile immediately.

“Thank you for coming.”

“Thank you for inviting me.”

Daniel appeared behind her.

“So you're the billionaire.”

I closed my eyes.

“Daniel.”

“What? It's a reasonable question.”

Alexander looked at him, then smiled.

“I suppose that's one way to describe me.”

“Do you have a helicopter?”

“Daniel!”

Alexander laughed. “No. I don't own a helicopter.”

“Then what do you use when you're late?”

“Usually a car.”

Daniel looked disappointed.

“That's boring.”

For the first time since he arrived, Alexander laughed properly.

“I'm beginning to understand why Amelia talks about you.”

“I hope it's good things.”

“Mostly.”

I gave Alexander a warning look, and he quickly added, “Very good things.”

My mother watched the exchange quietly.

I noticed that Alexander didn't try to dominate the conversation. He didn't mention his company or his money. When Daniel asked what he did all day, Alexander explained his work in simple terms, and when Daniel complained that school was boring, he asked which subjects he enjoyed.

“Computer science,” Daniel replied. “But I hate mathematics.”

“You may need mathematics if you want to work with computers.”

“That's what my teachers keep saying.”

“Unfortunately, they're probably right.”

Daniel groaned.

I laughed.

 

Dinner was served at our small dining table. There wasn't enough room for everyone to stretch comfortably, and Alexander's knees nearly touched the underside of the table.

“Sorry,” I said. “The table is a little small.”

“It's fine.”

I passed him a plate.

My mother served the chicken and vegetables, while Daniel talked about a school project. The conversation moved from university applications to football, then to the neighbour who had somehow managed to lock himself out of his apartment twice in one week.

Alexander listened with genuine interest.

He asked Daniel about his plans for university and what he wanted to study. He didn't offer to pay for anything or promise him a job at Blackwood International.

When Daniel mentioned that he wanted to work in technology, Alexander simply encouraged him to explore different fields and work hard.

“You sound like a teacher,” Daniel said.

“That's probably the worst thing anyone has ever said to me.”

We all laughed.

I watched Alexander as he ate. He thanked my mother for the food and complimented her cooking without making it sound like a performance. When she offered him more chicken, he accepted.

“You really like it?” she asked.

“Very much. I haven't had a home-cooked meal like this in a long time.”

My mother studied him.

“Then perhaps you should eat at home more often.”

“I think I should.”

Something softened in her expression.

But she wasn't finished.

 

After Daniel went to get another drink, my mother put down her fork.

“Alexander, may I ask you something?”

“Of course.”

“I know who you are. I've read about your company, and I know my daughter spent time in your house. I also know she came home hurt.”

The table became quiet.

I looked at my mother.

“Mum—”

“Let him answer, Amelia.”

Alexander placed his fork down.

“You're right,” he said. “I hurt her. I made decisions without asking her, and I used her difficult circumstances to bring her into a situation she didn't fully understand.”

My mother held his gaze.

“Why should I believe you won't do it again?”

“You shouldn't believe me simply because I'm sitting here saying the right things.”

He paused.

“I can't demand your trust, or Amelia's. I can only show through my actions that I've changed. And if she decides she doesn't want to continue this relationship, I'll respect that.”

My mother remained quiet.

“You understand that she has already been through enough?”

“Yes. And I don't want to become another reason she loses her peace.”

I felt my throat tighten.

He wasn't defending himself. He wasn't blaming the pressure of his family or the mistakes of his past.

He was accepting responsibility.

My mother finally nodded.

“Good. Because my daughter has always had to be strong. I would like her to have someone who allows her to rest sometimes.”

Alexander looked at me.

“So would I.”

For a moment, our eyes met.

Then Daniel returned, carrying a glass of water.

“Why is everyone so serious?”

“Nothing,” I said.

He looked between us.

“Did I miss dessert?”

 

After dinner, Daniel insisted on showing Alexander his school project. They spent nearly twenty minutes discussing a small computer programme Daniel was trying to build.

I watched them from the kitchen doorway.

Alexander was patient. He asked questions, listened to Daniel's explanations, and even admitted when he didn't understand something.

It was a side of him I rarely saw.

Not the intimidating businessman. Not the man who controlled boardrooms.

Just a person sitting beside a teenager, trying to understand something he cared about.

When Alexander finally prepared to leave, my mother thanked him for coming.

“I enjoyed the evening,” he said. “Thank you for making me feel welcome.”

“You're welcome,” she replied. “But remember, Amelia makes her own decisions.”

“I know.”

He looked at me.

“Goodnight, Amelia.”

“Goodnight.”

He hesitated, then asked, “May I call you tomorrow?”

I smiled.

“Yes.”

He left without making promises or extending the evening longer than necessary.

I closed the door and leaned against it.

My mother watched me from the living room.

“Come and sit with me.”

I knew that tone.

 

She waited until Daniel had gone to his room before speaking.

“Do you trust him?”

I sat beside her.

“I trust that he's trying.”

“That's not what I asked.”

I looked down at my hands.

“I still have feelings for him, Mum. I won't lie about that. But I haven't forgotten what happened.”

She nodded slowly.

“Sometimes we remember the good moments because they're easier than remembering the pain.”

“I know.”

“Are you sure you aren't just missing the man you hoped he could become?”

Her question made me think.

“I don't know exactly what the future holds,” I admitted. “But I'm not going back to the way things were. I have my work, my plans, and my independence. If Alexander wants to be part of my life, he has to respect all of that.”

“And if he doesn't?”

“I'll leave.”

My mother looked at me carefully.

Then she asked, in a voice much softer than before:

“What will you do if he breaks your heart again?”