Chapter Seven - You Made Me Feel Like a Fool

The cold water ran over me in the shower, steady and unforgiving. I let it fall as my thoughts spun out of control. Tears mixed with the water, slipping down my face as I tried to understand the mess inside me. Seeing Alex standing there, so calm and so beautiful, tore open wounds I believed were finally starting to heal.

How could fate be so cruel? Why did it have to be Alex, of all people? The woman who had captivated my heart in Paris, only to shatter it with her lies. The woman who had haunted my thoughts ever since, refusing to let me move on.

As I sat there, the sound of a loud knock echoed through the bathroom, startling me back to reality. I coughed, the sudden noise breaking the stillness around me, and quickly rose to my feet. The cold water had left my hand numb, a stark reminder of the pain I was trying so desperately to numb.

Drying myself off with a towel, I couldn't bear to meet my own gaze in the mirror. My eyes were swollen from crying, a physical manifestation of the turmoil raging inside me. I felt foolish for allowing myself to be affected like this, but I couldn't seem to shake the overwhelming sense of despair that consumed me.

Another knock at the door interrupted my thoughts, my mother's concerned voice filtering through the wood. "Honey, are you okay?" she called out, her worry evident in her tone.

Swallowing hard, I forced myself to respond, my voice barely above a whisper. "I'm okay," I managed to choke out, hoping to reassure her. She must have left, as the house fell silent once more.

I tended to my injured hand, the physical pain a welcome distraction from the emotional turmoil churning inside me. But no bandaid could mend the shattered pieces of my heart, scattered carelessly in the wake of Alex's arrival.

Dressing in shorts and a tank top, I retreated to my bedroom, locking my door. I crawled into bed, not caring that it was only 2 pm. Sleep offered the only respite from the relentless ache in my chest, the hope that maybe, just maybe, I would wake up and find that this was all a cruel dream.

---

The hard knocking on my door pulled me out of a restless sleep. For a moment, I was confused, stuck between dreams that felt too real and the quiet of the room. I blinked and sat up slowly, and the day came crashing back all at once. Oh. I was at my mother’s house.

Rubbing my eyes, I made my way to the door, the knocking growing louder with each step. As I swung it open, I was met with my mother's concerned expression, her eyes filled with worry.

"Honey," she said, her voice tinged with uncertainty, "are you okay? Wait, were you sleeping?"

I nodded, the weight of exhaustion heavy on my shoulders. "Yeah, just... What time is it?" I mumbled, trying to sound nonchalant.

My mother's concern deepened, her hand reaching out to pull me into a hesitant hug while her other hand held my forehead to probably check my temperature. God! She was really treating me like a child today.

 A pang of guilt twisted in my chest as she apologized for her earlier outburst, her words heavy with remorse. I shrugged, trying to brush off her concern.

"It's okay, Mom. My hand's fine," I replied, glancing down at the bandaid covering the wound. It felt numb, disconnected from the emotions raging inside me.

Her gaze shifted behind me, and she lowered her voice to a whisper. "Xander's still here," she confided, her words hitting me like a ton of bricks. Xander. Alex. The woman who had turned my world upside down with her mere presence.

A rush of panic hit me, threatening to break the fragile calm I was holding onto. I nodded and forced a smile. “I’ll leave you two alone,” I said quietly. “I’ve already ruined your afternoon. I’m sorry. I know you wanted it to be perfect.” My voice was barely there.

My mother’s sharp look stopped me. Her voice hardened. “You are not leaving until you make food.”

My heart sank. Knowing I had to stay longer—and that I might see Alex again—I turned away. I put on something decent and walked to the kitchen.

Seeing the leftovers in the fridge brought a small wave of relief. At least I didn’t have to cook. I placed the food in the microwave, and as it hummed to life, my mother stepped closer and wrapped her arms around me from behind, holding me in a quiet, warm hug.

"Honey..." her voice trailed off, filled with a mix of concern and remorse.

I gently wiggled out of her hold, a sigh escaping my lips. "Mom, what is it now?" I asked, my tone tinged with frustration. Why couldn't she just drop it? Or let me go. I was fine, or at least I was trying to be, and I wanted to be out of here.

She sighed and said softly, “You didn’t ruin my day. Not at all.”

Something about it irritated me. Her apology didn’t comfort me—it made everything worse. It filled me with guilt and unease. I was used to her sudden moods, but this felt different. Controlled. Like she was trying to prove something. That she was older. That she still had power over me. I wondered if she was trying to impress her ex by being hard on me.

Either way, I was exhausted. Tired of the apologies. Tired of being there. I just wanted to go back to my place. I didn’t know then that the love of her life would wake a side of her I had never seen.

I focused on the microwave, grateful for the distraction. The hum, the light, the seconds ticking down. Then it dinged.

Before I could move, someone else walked into the kitchen.

Alex. Or is it Xander?

The room suddenly felt too small. My chest tightened, and I had to fight to stay calm. Why was I reacting like this? I told myself to breathe, to stop panicking—but my body didn’t listen.

My mother’s voice cut through my spiralling thoughts and pulled me back into the room.  She introduced us, formally this time, "Lizzy, honey this is Alexander, uhm Xander, this is my beautiful daughter Elizabeth. Apologies again about earlier since you couldn't formally be introduced." I swallowed hard, extending my elbow awkwardly for Alex to bump, my injured hand tucked protectively against my side.

"Nice to meet you, Alexander. I'm so sorry about what happened earlier. I guess I was tired," I said, trying to hold it together. Alex smiled that same smile that drove me crazy in Paris, but now it made me sick to my stomach. Still, I kept my composure, determined not to break down again like I did during lunch. I was a big girl. All I needed to do was get through this and then act like Alex didn't exist.

Alex's voice pulled me back from my thoughts, driving me a bit crazy. "It's okay, Elizabeth. You don't have to apologize. I don't know why your mother acted like you were a toddler. But are you okay? Is your hand okay?"

I rolled my eyes, safely facing away from them, but forced a smile as I turned towards them with my plate in my left hand, struggling to take a fork with my right. I sighed. "I'd say my hand is perfect, but I can't even use it."

Alex was by my side in a second, placing the fork on my plate. "Here, I can help you with that."

"Thank you, Alex...Xander." I stumbled over her name, unsure which to use.

"You can call me Alex. It's okay," she replied, her voice soft.

My mother finally spoke, breaking the tension. "Okay, I have wine. Let's all go bask in the sun outside before it rains again. You guys know how December gets."

I had no choice but to follow the two women outside. We all sat at the table, the warm sunlight contrasting sharply with the storm brewing inside me. Alex looked at me and said, "The food was really good, Elizabeth. Miranda told me you cooked while she was panicking."

I nodded, trying to muster a smile. "Thanks. I'm glad you liked it."

The sun was setting, casting a golden hue over the backyard. The air was thick with the scent of blooming flowers, and the sound of birds chirping filled the silence between us. Despite the peaceful surroundings, my mind was in turmoil. Seeing Alex here, so close yet so far from the woman I thought I knew, was almost too much to bear.

As I sipped my wine, I couldn't help but steal glances at Alex. She looked different in this setting, more relaxed than I was, yet the same intensity lingered in her eyes. I wondered if she felt the same pull, the same confusion and longing that I did.

Her haircut was still the same, but fresh this time and she had a different leather jacket this time. Why was she here? What did she want?

My mother chatted away, oblivious to the tension between us. I nodded along, trying to participate in the conversation, but my thoughts kept drifting back to Paris, to the night we spent together, and the lie that wiped that night and stayed in my head ever since. I thought I left her there forever.

But here she was, sitting in the backyard of my childhood home, facing the pool that had injured my hand earlier, I couldn't help but wonder. Had I been just a one-night stand to Alex in Paris? Was I the only one who felt my heart open wide when I looked into her brown eyes at the height of our passion? Was I the only one who couldn't stop thinking about her for the past two months?  Also, did she read my letter? These thoughts swirled around my mind, making me feel so small and insignificant. The weather was perfect, the sunset beautiful, but I struggled to concentrate on these things because of the attractive woman next to my mom.

I knew I needed to talk to Lena about this because I never thought I would see Alex again. Let alone see her here at my home as my mother's ex.

The home phone rang, and my mother got up. "I'll get that, I'm waiting for an important call," she said, leaving us alone in the backyard. Alex and I sat there in silence, the sounds of birds chirping in the nearby trees filling the air.

I had so many questions, so many things I wanted to ask, but I didn't know where to start. Deep down, I knew Paris was supposed to be just a business fling. I wasn't supposed to like her or however I felt. But the heart wants what it wants, and it falls without direction. I felt so weak for falling for Alex so easily. If only she hadn't been so perfect in Paris.

"Lizzy..." Her voice pierced through the silence, the voice that once drove me insane now felt like a dagger in my heart. "Look at me please." Her voice was so soft that it made me turn towards her. Our eyes met again, and everything I felt in Paris came crashing back. I got lost in those eyes and the softness of her voice. But instead of melting me, it made me furious.

"Please Xander... Stop," I snapped, using her new name to create some distance between us. Calling her by the Paris name would invite my feelings to grow, and I didn't want that. I wanted to put distance between us so I wouldn`t indirectly get hurt again.

I took a deep breath, trying to steady myself, but the anger and my thoughts were too overwhelming.

"Lizzy..." She whispered again but I cut her off, "what the hell are you doing at my mom's house? How did you even know where I stay?"

"I didn't know you stay here, I just..." Then she froze, like she had run out of words to say.

"You have no idea, do you?" I said, my voice trembling. "You have no idea what you did to me. How you made me feel."

Alex looked right at me, her expression softening. "You won't understand right now because I can't explain this here, but it's a bit more complicated than what you know."

I shook my head, not wanting to understand anything anymore. "It doesn't matter, Xander. You made me feel like a fool, feel so used. We had what I thought was mind-blowing sex, you cried on me, and then you acted like I was some used thing you picked up from the street and were now done with. Cold and distant, and you lied to me about leaving the following day. I know you were not leaving Paris. If you didn't want to see me, if what we did was so horrible to you, you could have at least acted your age and told me you couldn't see me after that. Not lie to my face and make me feel like I'm not enough or like I did something wrong to you."

I was furious, my heart bleeding as I let out the pain I had been holding inside. Alex lifted her hand, trying to touch me, but I pulled away sharply. "Don't touch me, Alex. I don't want to infect you with what I did in Paris."

Alex sighed and asked softly, "Can we talk? Just the two of us, not here." She looked behind towards where my mom went as she said that.

I stood up, my eyes blazing with anger and hurt. "Have fun with my mom... Xander."

I stormed off, my mind a whirlwind of emotions. I could feel my heart pounding in my chest, a mixture of rage and sorrow. The backyard, once a place of comfort and memories, now felt like a battlefield where my emotions were laid bare.

I walked briskly through the house, my mother’s concerned gaze following me but unable to stop me from going into the house. I could hear the muffled sounds of Alex and my mother as she asked if I was okay. And Alex said I told her I needed to call a friend or something. I laughed a bit at how that lie fit perfectly, the same way her lie about leaving Paris fit to what was happening. I stupidly thought oh she was crying because she was leaving, because she felt we didn't have enough time together. But joke was on me. No matter how perfect it fit, it was a lie.

I needed to escape, to find some semblance of peace away from the woman who had unknowingly torn my world apart. And maybe calling a friend wouldn't be a bad idea. I was done crying over Paris and what happened there. I needed to pull myself together and Lena was going to help me with that.