The night air in the city had turned cool as Alex and Leila walked side by side through the quiet streets. The noise of the bustling city seemed a distant hum, replaced by the occasional murmur of their conversation.
They had spent the evening together after Leila finished her shift at the café. Normally, the hours they spent together were light-hearted, filled with teasing and small talk. But tonight, there was something different in the air, a quiet tension that neither of them could ignore.
Leila glanced at Alex, noticing the subtle shift in his posture. There was a certain weight to his silence that hadn't been there before. He had been quieter than usual, his mind clearly preoccupied. Normally, Alex was a man of few words, but tonight, there was a stillness in him that hinted at something deeper.
They passed a small park, the trees swaying gently in the breeze. The streetlights cast a soft glow on the path, and Leila's footsteps echoed as they walked together, the distance between them closing with each step.
"You've been quiet tonight," Leila said, her voice gentle. "What's on your mind?"
Alex stopped walking for a moment, his gaze fixed on the ground, the faintest of frowns creasing his brow. He hesitated for a moment, the words clearly weighing heavily on him. For the first time since they had met, Alex seemed unsure of himself.
"I've been thinking about... my mother," he said, his voice quiet but firm.
Leila's heart skipped a beat. She had known bits and pieces of Alex's past—the hints of a strained relationship with his father, the coldness that seemed to define him. But she had never asked about his mother. She never wanted to intrude, never wanted to push him to share things he wasn't ready to.
"I'm sorry," she said softly, her words tentative. "I didn't know—"
"It's not something I talk about much," Alex interrupted, his eyes meeting hers for the first time that night. There was something raw in them, a vulnerability she hadn't seen before.
"She died when I was young. I was only nine."
Leila's breath caught in her throat. She hadn't expected this, hadn't expected him to open up about something so personal. But there was a quiet pain in his voice that made her want to reach out, to hold him and take away the hurt that had clearly been with him for years.
"I've never really talked about it," Alex continued, his words coming slower now, almost like they were being pulled from deep within him. "I didn't have a lot of people around after that. My father wasn't... the most present. I spent most of my childhood in foster care."
Leila felt her heart break for him. She had known Alex as the confident, composed billionaire, the man who ruled his empire with a cold, calculating nature. But now, in this vulnerable moment, she saw him in a new light. She saw the boy who had lost his mother, the man who had fought to survive without the guidance and warmth most people took for granted.
"I didn't know," she whispered, her voice full of empathy.
Alex's gaze softened, his eyes filled with an emotion that Leila had rarely seen. For a moment, it felt like he was truly letting her in—showing her the cracks in his carefully constructed walls.
"I don't like to talk about it because it makes me weak," he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper. "But sometimes, I wonder what life would have been like if she'd still been here. I wonder if things would've turned out differently."
Leila reached out, her hand brushing his arm in a gentle, comforting gesture. It was small, but it felt like the world had shifted in that moment. Alex's walls, which had always been so impenetrable, seemed to soften under the touch of her hand.
"You're not weak," she said, her voice sincere. "Talking about it doesn't make you weak. It makes you human."
Alex looked at her, his eyes intense, as though he was seeing her for the first time. He was used to being the one in control, the one who never let anyone close. But tonight, something had changed. And in that moment, Leila saw the man beneath the billionaire—the man who had been carrying so much alone for so long.
"Thank you," he said, his voice barely audible. "For listening."
Leila smiled softly. "Anytime, Alex. You don't have to carry everything by yourself."
They continued walking, the surrounding air charged with a newfound understanding. It wasn't just the city lights that lit the way anymore. There was something else—something deeper—between them now. And for the first time, Alex didn't feel the need to retreat behind his walls. He felt lighter, as if, in sharing that piece of himself with Leila, he had begun to free himself from the weight of the past.