Alex Alvarez One Day At A Time Novels & Stories

I sighed wearily guiding him toward my office. It was barely eleven on a Tuesday morning, but I wanted it to be Sunday so badly. "I guess you have news,” I said once in my office. Alex nodded as he sat down across from me. “Josh Daley lives outside of Brooklyn, he's forty years old, and the longest he has lasted in a job has been five months.” “Wife? Children?” "Nope, but he lives with his mother,” he replied with a shrug, "What do you intend to do with this information?"

Alex pov I got up buy my stupid alarm. I groaned and turned it off. I looked at my side and saw Alexa was sleeping peacefully. I quietly got out of bed and went to have a shower.. I finished my shower and changed into one of the outfit I wanted it to be simple. Alexa was still sleeping and I didn't wanted to wake her up. She looked cute. I clicked a quick snap of her and then left my room. I went downstairs and everyone was already there. I gretted them all morning and I got morning in return. I gave Alesa a quick hug and sat on my regular seat.

It felt like the kind that knew we had already said too much, lived too much, survived too much. Eventually, he sat down beside me. Not touching. Just close enough that I could feel his shoulder near mine. “You’re quiet,” he said, his voice low. “I’m thinking,” I said. “What about?” I looked at the water instead of him. “Everything. And nothing.” He let out the smallest breath not quite a laugh, not quite frustration. Just a sound of understanding. “Alvarez is gone,” he said. “His men have withdrawn. The camps are empty now.”

**The Next Day...** As dawn broke, a gentle light filtered through the curtains, casting a warm glow across the room. When Alex finally stirred from his deep slumber, he realized that he was still curled up in the same position from the previous night. He couldn’t recall when exactly exhaustion had embraced him, but he distinctly remembered the comfort of resting his head on Anjali's lap, drowning in tears yet finding solace in her presence. After a decade of tumult, the morning air felt invigorating, as if it had lifted a weight he had carried for far too long.

Before I could open my mouth to explain, Chloe shouted out in mock astonishment, “Gross! Her filthiness burns my eyes. I’ve seen trashy people before, but I’ve never seen anyone ruin themselves to this extent. This is sickening.” Amidst the wave of foul insults, Greg looked at me with disgust and shoved me hard, sending me crashing to the floor. Then, he grabbed a bottle of high-proof liquor from the table and poured it directly over my chest. “How dare you show up in front of me looking like this? Fine, I’ll play the good guy for once and give you a proper disinfection!” I clenched my fists tight, tears finally betraying me and bursting from my eyes. I wanted to say, Greg, do you have any i

Alex arrived at Miguel & Anderson’s office at eight thirty the following morning after an evening spent settling into her new home. She had refused Cristina’s offer of an evening meal but had agreed to meet up again later in the week. After unpacking her clothes and putting the food she had bought at the market into the kitchen cupboards, she had made herself a coffee and taken it onto her balcony to enjoy the last of the evening sun. When it turned into a spectacular sunset that bathed the roofs below her in pink and gold, she congratulated herself anew on her good fortune and decided that she would make the most of this unexpected chance to stay in such a beautiful, sunny place. She would

The soup was there, the specific bread beside it, torn rather than sliced, the way he had mentioned once without thinking anyone was paying attention. He sat with that for a moment then he picked up the bread and ate it and looked at the garden through the sitting room window and let the first day pass around him the way difficult days passed, one hour at a time, each one manageable on its own if you didn’t look at all of them together. Mrs Alves was the one who told him how serious it was.

There is clearly a lack of communication between them, as well as a large dose of jealousy. "That would help me a lot, Zalev. I want to go to the mall first to buy some presents. And then straight to Crescent Moon." Alvarez steps in and sits down beside me at the head of the table. He picks me up and sits me on his lap. His heavenly scent fills me and I cannot resist taking his head between my hands. Gently, I bite his lower lip before plunging my tongue deep into his mouth. Alvarez moans, his hand gripping my shoulders to hold me close.

I reached for the crown, set it on the side table, then felt around for my phone. Seven forty-two. Six new emails. Three from Dianna. Two from Lorenzo Bianchi. One newsletter telling me how to “create a more mindful home with beige.” I turned off the screen. No. I was not ready to read rich people moving lemon trees with nuclear-war urgency before I had even brushed my teeth. From downstairs came a small crash.... “GABBY! HE’S NOT FOOD!” Alvaro shouted. I closed my eyes again. “MAMI!” Apparently three seconds had been too ambitious.

Four days. It had been four days since Santiago Alvarez, founder of Alvarez Industries, had passed away in his sleep. Four days since the world had shifted on its axis. The house felt different now. Like a living thing that had lost its heart and was slowly dying from the inside out. Everyone walked on eggshells, their voices hushed, their movements careful. The staff whispered in corners, their eyes darting nervously toward the second floor where Miguel had locked himself in his home office.